| abstract
| - Selu Kraen sat up groggily just as the rusted metal deck lurched beneath him, and the motion dumped him back on his side again. After the ship’s initial jump into hyperspace, his captor had come back to secure him in a dingy little cabin, lit only by a cracked glowpanel loosely suspended from the ceiling. Past stains on the walls were a grisly and discomfiting reminder of past occupants and their plights. He had dozed off after using a Jedi technique to calm his mind, despite the uncomfortable nature of the metal block that served as a bunk. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up. His chafed wrists reminded him of where the binders had so recently bit into the flesh. A few minutes later, his captor came back and opened the door, standing there silhouetted by the lights in the corridor. “What is it?” he asked slowly. “Breakfast,” she announced, tossing him a ration pack. “Thank you,” he replied. “Thank me?” the Mistryl replied, laughing. “Are you always so polite to your captors?” “I have no reason not to be,” he said. “So far, you haven’t hurt me.” “Not yet,” she told him coldly. “Good enough for now,” he remarked, peeling off the cover of the ration pack. Interestingly enough, he had only noticed one Mistryl on the ship. Had he and the Durashield guards been good enough to kill or incapacitate the others? He suspected so, but had no way of confirming it. Looking up, he noticed she was still there. “Is this some sort of trick? What, you’re going to poison me with the food and laugh about it?” Selu honestly didn’t expect that sort of thing from the Mistryl, and a Jedi would not have made that statement, but he was role-playing as a scared, nervous scientist, so he continued with the charade. The Mistryl snorted. “Don’t be so juvenile, Kraen. I’m merely keeping an eye on you until our guests arrive.” “I see,” he said, sliding over on the block to make more room. “Would you like to join me, in that case?” “What? You’re crazy, Kraen,” she replied. “Am I? Look, my legs are still chained to this block and I’m pretty sure you could take me in hand-to-hand if you wanted to. I just figured you’d be more comfortable sitting down, Miss—uh—whatever your name is.” “You can call me Helsi,” she said. It was against Mistryl protocol to get chummy with the prisoners, but Kraen seemed harmless enough. While she would get in a lot of trouble with her superiors if they found out, they didn’t have to know. She sat there quietly, watching him devour the rations hungrily. Something didn’t seem quite right with the whole situation, but she couldn’t pin it down, and the crackling of the bridge communications board distracted her. She smiled coldly at Kraen. “Must be off,” she said. “Have to go welcome my sisters aboard.” As she left, Selu Kraen smirked quietly. Deadly this Mistryl might be, but not nearly as professional as might be expected. No experienced interrogator would sit by a prisoner, even if he was supposed to be harmless. Her comrades, on the other hand, would pose a more interesting problem. If it wasn’t for the fact that she had to have reported in to her superiors, he would have simply broken free and taken over the ship. However, the disappearance of the vessel might eventually put the Mistryl back on his and Sarth’s trail, and he wasn’t willing to risk that. There was also the little matter of the computer core that he had been given that would lower the Mistryl planetary defenses. Judging from what the Car’das agent had said, the other party involved was likely the Empire. Selu smiled at the thought of the Mistryl being forced into submission by an Imperial Star Destroyer or two. Maybe the Empire was good for something after all. He sat there quietly for a while. There was no sense in trying to get a view from his cabin—there were no windows and the door was quite solid. However, he could use the Force to get a sense of what was going on. Six more humans had just boarded the vessel, all of them apparently female judging by the weight of their footsteps. One of them seemed different, though he couldn’t determine why. Augmenting his hearing, he still could only pick out snatches of conversation over the natural noise of the ship’s machinery, so he gave that up. Instead, he sat on his crude bed, meditating as best he could. The Mistryl could have placed any kind of sensor or holocam in the room, so he had avoided any postures or stances that could be traced back to the Jedi; it was hard enough to just to pretend to be Sarth without having to answer awkward questions and drawing suspicion. Then the door opened again and one of the females walked in. Selu sat there quietly as she entered, not caring who she was. “You’ll stay here until we arrive,” said one of the Mistryl, a different one, from the doorway. “It won’t be long, but we apologize for the accommodations.” “Do you mind?” the other woman asked him, indicating the metal block on which he was sitting. “Not at all,” Selu replied, sliding over some on his crude bed to make room for the new occupant. As she sat down, he got a good look at her face for the first time and started in recognition. “Do I know you?” he asked, as a cover. She turned to regard him with a slight smile. “You might,” she said. “I was all over the holofeeds at one time.” Selu knew exactly who she was and precisely why there had been such great media coverage, and it made his blood boil. However, he kept his cool, at least externally. “Then I know who you are. To what do I owe the pleasure, Jenna Zan Arbor?” he asked politely. “I imagine the same thing as you are here for,” she said dryly, shaking his hand. “A new employment proposition.” “Enforced at the point of a vibroblade,” he added. “Precisely. And might I ask whom I am speaking to?” she asked. “Sarth Kraen. I used to work on advanced droid algorithms and weaponry. I already know your specialty, I believe.” “I find myself flattered. Which of my past projects have you heard of?” she intoned smoothly. Killing civilians and Jedi, Selu wanted to say. Jenna Zan Arbor was a notorious rogue scientist who had captured Jedi before joining the Confederacy. In Separatist employment, she had helped concoct planet-ravaging stone mites and deadly swamp gas. Jedi across the Republic were familiar with her bioweapons and had been instructed to apprehend her on sight, with the use of lethal force an option if she resisted. “Oh, just a few things throughout the war,” he said. “We were on opposite sides, so I only heard about you in passing.” “Well, I haven’t heard of you, to be honest, but I suspect we’ll be working for the same people now.” “So they’re recruiting us into the Mistryl?” he said. “I figured as much. I mean, I look so good in a combat jumpsuit packing a pair of vibroblades.” “Into their war effort, actually. I suspect they’ll give us things to do to help them in their conflict with some neighboring systems. I got an earful of their spiel on the way in. How about you?” “I didn’t hit it off so well with them, actually.” “Because you’re a man?” “No. Because some of my, um, associates killed some of them.” “How inconvenient,” she said. “I imagine that wouldn’t go over well.” “It didn’t,” he answered. “But in the end, I figured it wasn’t such a bad deal.” “So why did they hire you? We both know my specialty, but what’s your claim to fame?” “Do you know what a droideka is?” he inquired. “Sure. Nasty little droid. Perfect amalgamation of speed, firepower, and protection.” “Right,” he said. “I deciphered the control algorithm for it. If my research hadn’t disappeared courtesy of some of these fine people, the Republic would have been able to take over every droideka during the Battle of Coruscant.” Zan Arbor’s mouth actually gaped open. Selu smiled slightly at the thought of having actually impressed such a notorious scientist, though he figured Sarth would have appreciated it more. His desire to kill Zan Arbor was somewhat interfering with enjoying the moment. Clamping down on that most assuredly dark-sided idea, he continued to quietly chat with the most wanted Confederacy scientist, vaguely aware that he had just shaken a hand stained with the blood of thousands. Commenor, two days earlier Sarth Kraen slowly walked back into the medcenter, followed by Cassi and Spectre. The doors hissed open and the Securer standing guard at the ward waved them inside after checking their identities. Spectre slowly walked over to an occupied bed and began slowly taking off his armor, and Sarth figured the ex-trooper was likely in pain from his injuries. Slowly relaxing, Sarth let himself sink into a chair by the side of the bed. He was tired and drained physically and emotionally after such a harrowing week and his mannerisms showed it. “Ah, welcome back. Did you rescue the detective?” asked Jorge, walking in through the other door. “Yes, we got to her,” said Sarth. “She’ll be all right.” “Good,” said Jorge. “Where are my parents?” asked Sarth. “They’re still finishing up their meal,” Jorge replied. “They’ll be back in a few minutes.” Sarth looked around, but Cassi had disappeared, off on some errand of her own. “You look tired,” Jorge said. “I am,” Sarth agreed wearily. “It’s been a long couple of days.” “Same for me,” Jorge replied. “You can just rest there a bit and I won’t bother you.” Sarth smiled and nodded a thank-you to Jorge as he relaxed his tense shoulders and arms and sank into the seat. He closed his eyes and let the darkness wash over him, temporarily drowning out all of his cares and worries for a few peaceful moments. Munto Medcenter Annita was sitting up in the medcenter bed, a datapad on her lap and a collection of files strewn across the blanket. Unable to sleep despite her recent ordeal, she was sitting up in the bed. She had a busted lip and a bruise still evident on her face, but otherwise looked none-the-worse for wear. She was determined to keep working on the case, even if that meant doing it from a medcenter bed. No Mistryl was going to get away with breaking into the Investigator office, killing a guard, and then kidnapping a detective, and she vowed not to rest until she had hunted her captor down. For the moment, though, she was safe. There were two Securers on guard on the floor and the medcenter’s windows had been reinforced. Outside, she saw the silhouette approach the door, escorted by another Securer. A light rap sounded on the door, and though a flicker of jealousy ran through her, she suppressed it, schooling her voice into her best professional tones. “Come in,” she said. Cassi entered, an uncertain look on her face. “Have a seat,” Annita told her. “What can I do for you?” Cassi asked as she pulled up one of the chairs and sat down in it. “Just reviewing witness statements and I had some follow-on questions to the initial interview you gave the Securers.” “Okay,” Cassi replied, then frowned. “Shouldn’t you be resting though?” Annita laid the datapad down and stared unwaveringly at Cassi. “Don’t question my capabilities or my resolve,” Annita told her bluntly. “I’ll rest when the Mistryl who did this are imprisoned or dead.” “Sorry,” Cassi answered repentantly. “I didn’t mean it like that.” “Mmhmm,” Annita replied insincerely. “Well, let’s get on with this. You were present when the Mistryl attacked the safehouse, right?” “That’s right,” Cassi told her. “But not for the initial attack at the Kraen estate?” “Yes. I was on the Hawk-bat.” “Why?” Cassi blinked. “Excuse me?” “Why were you on the Hawk-bat that first night?” Annita probed. “I had some work to do,” Cassi explained, having difficulty with recalling the details of an event that occurred prior to so much tumult. “So Sarth didn’t bring you along to meet his parents at first?” Annita asked, checking over the statement on her datapad. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Cassi inquired. “Just trying to establish some background,” Annita answered smoothly. “On the case, or on me and Sarth?” Cassi countered. Annita rolled her eyes. “Let’s stick with the case. Do you have access to the ship’s communication system?” “Yes,” Cassi answered. “All of the crew does.” “And you were the first one to receive the distress call from Sarth the evening they were attacked at the Kraen state?” “That’s right.” “Why is that? Wouldn’t the captain have received the message first?” “We were all asleep when the call came. The captain and Jorge had been out on the town earlier doing business.” “So you were alone on the ship for a prolonged period of time that evening?” Annita asked. “Yes,” Cassi said easily, then she realized where Annita’s line of inquiry was going. She’d been baited by the detective’s nonchalant line of inquiry, and now Annita was driving hard on a dreadful implication that felt like a kick in the gut. The detective was a driven woman who possibly had an agenda against her. This was not good. “Wait,” Cassi said slowly, still in shock at the realization. “It isn’t what you think.” “Don’t tell me what I think,” Annita returned coldly. “When did you and Sarth first meet?” “On Coruscant, several months ago.” Annita nodded. The timeline made sense—Cassi had joined the ship’s crew shortly after the first failed Mistryl attack on Sarth on Coruscant. Now it was time to go in for the kill. “How long have you and Sarth been . . . together?” Cassi hesitated, knowing that this next answer could sink her. “The truth, please,” Annita reminded her. “I will cross-check your answer with Sarth.” “A few weeks,” Cassi admitted, knowing that she was falling into Annita’s trap. “I see,” Annita answered evenly, but the slight upturn at the corner of her mouth was just the hint of a gloating smile. “And every single one of them has been wonderful,” Cassi persisted. “Sarth and I love each other. I would never do anything to hurt him.” “I’m sure,” Annita replied, sounding entirely unconvinced. “We’re going to be checking your background and financials, Miss Trealus, as well as reviewing all the security footage from the safe house to make sure that you’re the innocent lovebird you claim to be.” Cassi shook her head in disbelief. “You’ve got this all wrong! I’m not helping the Mistryl!” “I’ll be the judge of that,” Annita answered. Cassi stood up angrily. “I helped fight off the Mistryl at the safe house,” she pointed out, indicating the bandage on her chin. “And you were the least injured out of the party that was attacked,” Annita countered. “We came to save your life,” Cassi tried again. “As I seem to recall, that was Spectre,” Annita returned. “And obviously you have to maintain your cover. Now here’s what I think. I think that you’ve lured the Mistryl to Sarth, and you may have even gotten his cousin killed. I think you were sent out to seduce him, to bring them down on him wherever he goes. It’s an old plan, and it often works.” Cassi sank back down onto the chair, hands clasped to her face in horror as she stared out across the window. “You’re turning everything I say against me,” she said. Annita was quiet, implacable. Cassi’s eyes searched the horizon for several seconds, as if looking for the answers to quell this cloud of suspicion. Finally, she turned back to Annita, confused and hurt. “Is it so hard for you to believe that Sarth and I are in love?” she asked. “That I would never do anything like what you’re suggesting?” “I’m trying to protect him and the rest of his family,” Annita said. “Just doing my job.” “Ask Sarth,” Cassi urged her. “He’ll vouch for me.” “I’m sure he would, but I don’t know that we could trust his answer,” Annita replied. “For all we know, you’re a very good actress—I wouldn’t expect anything less from the Mistryl Shadow Guard.” Cassi’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m not with the Mistryl,” she pleaded simply. “I’m with Sarth Kraen.” “That’s what concerns me,” Annita told her. “Because it’s easier to believe that I would betray him than be there for him?” Cassi asked. “I’m innocent of anything except falling for the same man you did, and I think you know that.” Annita arched an eyebrow at her quizzically. “If you really thought I was a threat to Sarth, I wouldn’t be here right now,” Cassi said simply. “I’d be in custody already.” “Is that so?” “We both know that you’re good at your job, but the fact that you haven’t had me arrested means you don’t really believe it, and imprisoning someone falsely isn’t acceptable to you ethically.” For the first time throughout the whole conversation, Cassi smiled. “You were trying to get me to confess, trying to bait me into something that would validate your dislike of me.” “I’m a detective,” Annita answered. “Part of my job is getting people to tell me the truth.” “I’ve already told you the truth,” Cassi said earnestly. “I love Sarth, and I would never do anything to hurt him.” Annita nodded slowly. “I can see that,” she said at last. “I owe you an apology—for a lot of things. I was wrong about you—I’d hoped you were less than the person that you are. I’ve made some unfair accusations against you, and I’ve treated you poorly. All I can say is that I’m honestly sorry—it was petty and stupid. I can see why he’s taken with you. That kind of sincerity is rare.” “It’s how I’ve always lived,” Cassi said simply. Annita sighed and shook her head, setting the datapad down and dropping her professional mask. “I have a confession to make,” Annita told her. “I was prepared to hate you from the time I first laid eyes on you.” “Why is that?” Cassi asked. “It’s not your fault. I had-I had held this place in my heart for Sarth for years, waiting for him to come back, waiting for him to say that I held the same place in him. It was a dream and I had it for years, always in the back of my mind, and then you showed up and he seemed so taken with you. It about drove me mad.” “I-I don’t know what to say,” Cassi said. “I’ve never regretted the time I’ve spent with Sarth.” “That’s what made me feel so wrong about it. You were so happy but I just couldn’t stand it. Then I tried to stay out of the way.” “Wait. You were trying to stay out of the way?” Cassi asked. “I thought you were trying to split us up.” “The word being ‘trying,’” Annita answered. “I had to deal with my own stress and hurt.” “Seems like we’ve done a good job of prejudging each other,” Cassi remarked. “Pretty much.” “I think we could do better, though,” Cassi added quickly. “How so?” Annita asked. “I don’t know what’s going to happen,” Cassi told her. “I don’t know if the Mistryl will finally leave us alone, if I’ll continue to serve on the Hawk-bat, or how it’ll all work out. But I know it’d be nice to have a friend with me no matter what happens. It’s been hard to talk to my parents or my sister since the war.” Annita shook her head. “And what do we have in common? Did Sarth tell you how I grew up?” “No,” Cassi answered. “My father was an abusive drunkard. He took out his anger for his wife leaving him by beating me. If it hadn’t been for Sarth noticing and asking his father to intervene, I’m not sure what would’ve happened. Not all of us are lucky enough to have had a perfect family and childhood back home.” “I didn’t know,” Cassi admitted. “And you’re right, I did grow up in a loving family that encouraged and supported me. They sent me to school on Coruscant to follow my dreams, and then the war happened. My family lost their farm. I was on Coruscant when it was attacked and a crashing ship hit the university. I lost dozens of friends that day, and at that point, I wanted off that planet, away from those painful memories.” “I’m sorry for your loss,” Annita answered, a statement said with an appropriate mix of professionalism and sincerity that she’d had to cultivate as part of her job when talking to the family of victims. “The point is, we can’t let our pasts weigh us down and stop us from connecting with others,” Cassi persisted. “We can overcome all of that. You did. You joined the police force and advanced up to detective.” “I wanted to stop people like my father from hurting others,” Annita answered. “My point exactly,” Cassi said. “We aren’t so different after all. We both went through hardship. We both know what it’s like to lose loved ones. We both made great sacrifices to get where we are today.” She paused before continuing, aware that her next statement was loaded. “We both know Sarth.” Annita’s gaze dropped momentarily. “I was always a little sister to him, never anything more. I think I knew that was the case, I just couldn’t bring myself to admit it.” She looked up again. “You’re good for him. He needs someone like you.” “Just like we could help each other,” Cassi said. “I don’t know about you, but after shipping on the Hawk-bat for a year with four men, it’d be nice to have another woman to talk to.” Annita nodded soberly. “It’s almost the exact same way in the force.” Cassi’s eyes lit up hopefully. “So maybe we can talk again soon, when you’re feeling better?” Annita considered it. The whole exchange had been peculiar to her. Cassi’s frank honesty and willingness to make amends were almost foreign concepts to her, but the other woman’s acceptance of her past and readily revelation of her own traumatic histories had helped Annita identify with her. Despite her misgivings about Cassi, she had to admit that her unrequited interest in Sarth would never have been reciprocated even if Cassi hadn’t come along. Sarth simply didn’t see her that way and she’d been lying to herself for years to think otherwise. Vocalizing that had made it easier to put it behind her, and Cassi’s offer to make amends did hold a certain attraction. Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all, now that she no longer considered herself a rival for Sarth’s affections. “We could. I’d . . . like that.” “Great,” Cassi answered, beaming. “I’m looking forward to it.” Cassi smiled and returned to Annita’s bedside to embrace her warmly. Annita was startled at first by the gesture; it was hardly something she was used to, but she found that she had no desire to reject the hug. Something about it made it acceptable, made her feel encouraged rather than encroached upon. “Is there anything I can get you or do for you while you’re stuck in here?” Cassi asked. “Not really,” Annita replied. “I have a stack of reports from work to go over and the caf’s not bad. Though, there is one thing.” “What’s that?” “Look out for Sarth. It doesn’t take a detective to see that he needs you.” “I’ll do my best,” said Cassi. Rising, she left the hospital room and returned to the waiting area where Sarth and Jorge were still sitting. Upon hearing her entrance, Sarth perked up, opening his eyes groggily. “Hey,” he said. “Where were you?” “Annita had some questions for me,” she answered simply. “She was feeling better and wanted to set some things straight.” “What kind of things.” Cassi grinned slyly, not seeing the need to embroil Sarth in the now-resolved dispute between them. “Oh, you know. Girl stuff.” Jorge shook his head. “You’re better off not asking beyond that, Sarth. Believe me, you’d probably rather not know.” “It’s nothing that horrible,” Cassi with mock indignation to Jorge. “I’ll tell you later.” “Sounds good,” Sarth replied. “Sounds good?” said a new voice. Everyone turned to see Milya standing in the doorstep. “How does that sound good?” she asked. “Your brother is off on a suicide mission to Emberlene, and you’re just sitting here.” “Brother?” said Sarth, remembering to cover for Selu this time. Milya rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. He told me his true name when he met me, and if you haven’t told everyone else in this room, it’s probably a good time to spill the news.” “Actually, I think everyone in the room does know now,” put in Cassi. “See?” Milya said reprovingly. “Where have you been?” asked Jorge. “I went out to the docking bay, looking for clues,” she replied. “I found this.” She held up Selu’s dropped sidearm. “So what are you going to do now?” she asked. When no one answered her immediately, she continued. “Selu saved my life and helped me out when I was in trouble. I owe him one—and that means I’m going to go find him.” “That is just not feasible,” said Sarth slowly. “They’ve got to have him locked up securely somewhere by now.” “Well, assuming your trooper over there is up to the task, that shouldn’t be a problem. If not, I’m not bad myself. Anyway, does it really matter?” “Yes, it does,” Sarth answered. “What good is his sacrifice if we manage to get ourselves killed for his sake?” “If we do this correctly, there won’t be any sacrifice on his part,” she replied. “Look, I know you all don’t know me, or know who I am. I haven’t done anything to earn your respect or trust, but I am going to rescue Selu. You can either do nothing, you can help me, or you can stop me. In which case I’ll probably have to hurt someone. But I am not going to abandon someone who saved my life to a bunch of Mistryl.” “Do you have any notions on how to pull that off?” asked Sarth. “Not yet,” she replied flippantly. “It’s a day or two from here to Emberlene, if we push it. That’s plenty of time to plan, isn’t it?” “I see,” he said slowly. “Milya, going to Emberlene . . . it’s suicide. For all of us. Besides, Selu told us not to go after him.” “I’m not dead yet,” she countered. “And Selu isn’t here. Are any of you coming, or not?” “I’ll go,” said Jorge, standing up. “You’ll need someone to pilot the Hawk-bat. I owe Selu from New Holstice too.” “What happened on New Holstice?” Sarth asked. “I still haven’t heard.” Jorge quickly recounted the story to Sarth, Cassi, and Spectre, starting from when they arrived on New Holstice through the death of Captain Sei’lar and their subsequent escape from the world, as best as he could. There were gaps in his narrative, and his speech faltered and stuttered through the account. However, he got the general idea across to his audience, so in that, he felt successful. Sarth sat in quiet silence, realizing to just what depths his brother had gone to remove the threat of danger from him. That first night that they had met, the night the Jedi Order had fallen, Sarth hadn’t known what to make of this strange relative of his who had suddenly fallen back into his life. Then had come the chilling realization that he was hunted, the memory of being abducted rushing back to him. Selu had come after him, having known him for less than a week, and saved him from the Mistryl. Ever since joining the Hawk-bat, Sarth had gotten the impression that Selu was silently standing watch over him, whether that be fending off pirates or battling Mistryl mercenaries. Sarth had always prided himself on being able to outthink his way out of any situation, but the truth was that he owed a lot to Selu. Even as Jorge’s tale filled his ears, his heart knew that he was going to pay Selu back. It might be too late for any hope of rescuing him, but he would never know if he had gone back. Cassi was similarly pensive. She had known, or thought she had known a man named Micor for several months. Crewing onboard the same relatively small freighter meant that everyone knew each other fairly well. Micor, or Selu now, she guessed, had always been a bit distant when asked about his past, but she never would have thought that he was a Jedi Knight in exile until Sarth told her about it, or that R’hask Sei’lar would have been a gunrunner for partisans rebelling against the Empire. Part of her just wanted to leave, tell the Empire, and make it all disappear, but after crewing with Sei’lar, she was skeptical of any type of government and did not want to get Sarth in trouble. The whole turn of events was entirely beyond her control, it seemed to her, and there was little she could do, even if she was sure of a course of action. The one thing she had made up her mind was that she was not going to leave Sarth. He might not be a Jedi Knight, but his quiet intelligence and strength in this time of crisis only served to deepen her respect, admiration, attraction, and love for him. Sarth Kraen was still so much a mystery to her, but there was no way in space that she’d abandon him now. For her part, Milya was contemplating how to persuade the others to aid her if Jorge’s account was unsuccessful. Her contingency plan was merely to steal the Hawk-bat and fly it to Emberlene herself, but that was far from her preferred strategy. Selusda Kraen had saved her life, and offered her the chance at the closest thing to family she’d ever had. Then, he had showed the depth of his commitment by handing himself over to the Mistryl, a ruthless group of customers if there ever was one. All for the sake of family. Even if she had never experienced a bond of that close-knit nature, Milya knew that she wanted it, and would honor Selu’s sacrifice to the best that she could. “Wow,” said Sarth finally, as the rest of them continued to sit in quiet silence, reflecting on what they had just heard. “See?” Milya remarked. “Selu is the reason that Jorge and myself are standing here. He’s fought the Mistryl for you, and now he needs our help. So what do you say?” “I’m in,” said Sarth. “Me too,” chimed in Cassi. Cassi drew in close to face Sarth and he could smell the scent of her perfume as she looked into his eyes. “I’m not letting you get away from me,” she breathed. “Are you sure about this?” he asked. “If you’re going, I’m going,” she told him resolutely. “You’ll get into trouble without me there to keep an eye on you.” “I suspect I’ll get in trouble even with you there, maybe even more so,” Sarth said. “Are you up for that?” “I can handle it,” she replied. “I guess I should say something about how much I love you?” he asked. “Good timing,” she said, then added teasingly. “But next time, work on the delivery.” “I will,” he promised. “Over and over.” “You do that,” she said, giving him a quick kiss. Then the couple remember the presence of the others in the room and they reluctantly turned back to face them, not the least bit embarrassed. “How about you, Spectre?” said Sarth. “I decided to go by myself on the way back here. I’ve been thinking about how to do that while you’ve been talking,” said the ex-ARC. “Glad to hear it,” Sarth said. “Between us, we should be able implement a rescue plan.” “Let’s get going then,” Milya added. “We don’t have any time to waste.” At that point, Samtel and Lena returned, followed by Bwilor and Drelve. “Hey Spectre, glad you’re back,” said Bwilor. “Go get your gear; we’ll be headed out soon. Jorge got our reimbursement, so here’s your pay.” Spectre accepted the credit chit gladly, but not so the instructions. “I’ll be getting my gear, but I won’t be leaving with you. I’m sorry, Bwilor, but I won’t be working for Durashield Securities anymore.” “What are you talking about? You did splendidly, despite the tragic loss of Twone. We had you in line for a raise.” “I appreciate that, sir, but I have other obligations to handle.” “Are you sure about that?” Bwilor asked. “You’re throwing away a stable income and a chance at a new life. Not all our work is as dangerous as this job has been; quite the opposite. Your skills could earn you a good place in the company.” “I respect that,” said Spectre. “And the danger doesn’t bother me, but I have some unfinished business to take care of. Perhaps later.” “Well, if your mind is made up,” Bwilor replied. “It is.” “In that case, it’s been good working with you,” said Bwilor, pumping Spectre’s arm one last time. “Be seeing you,” said Drelve. And with that, the two security professionals took their leave of the rest of the group and were out the door to go collect their gear and return to their business. “I’m sorry to see them go,” said Samtel. “They did their best to protect us.” “That they did,” agreed Sarth. “And I’m sorry to break this to you so suddenly, but I need to tell you something.” “What is it, son?” said Lena softly. “I’m leaving—we all are. We’re going after Selu,” Sarth replied slowly. “But, you can’t do that!” Lena said. “They’ll capture you too, or worse.” “Son, think this through,” Samtel added. “I have,” Sarth said. “Look, Selu is our son, too, and we love him dearly. But we love you too,” interjected Lena. “We don’t want you to get hurt.” “I know you, Mom,” said Sarth. “But this is necessary.” “Why?” “Selu saved my life; saved all of us. We owe him that much.” “Son, are you sure about this?” said Samtel. “Dad, you instilled in me the need to always do the right thing and never abandon a friend. Selu’s not just a friend; he’s family. I can’t do nothing.” “Fair enough,”Samtel replied. “I don’t want you to go, but you’re right.” “What about us? About me? I don’t want to lose both of my sons on the same day,” cut in Lena, her eyes glistening and her face contorted with emotion. “You won’t,” said Sarth quietly. “I’ll bring Selu back. I promise.” “I hope so,” Samtel replied gravely, as Lena began crying and buried her head into her husband’s shoulder. The elder Kraen put his hand around his wife of over twenty years and looked his older son in the eye. “I love you, son. Be careful out there.” “Love you too, Dad. I will.” Sarth gave each of his parents a hug, then walked out the door resolutely with the others, not looking back, not wanting to see the tears flowing from their eyes. “Clear skies,” said Samtel falteringly as the group filed out of the hospital. Holding his gently crying wife, he looked up at the ceiling as if trying to find the answers to life’s problems there, wondering why the universe would try to take both his boys from him. If nothing else, questioning the rationale for fate kept his mind off of just how cruel fate could be. As a father, he had never wanted to see his sons hurt or injured, and his heart ached at the thought of the trials and tests that awaited them. He needed to be strong, strong for Lena, and strong for whatever would come. If only he could summon that strength when he needed it. Emberlene Selu was rudely awakened by the ship’s lurching. A small intercom crackled, and he looked up blearily to see Jenna Zan Arbor already sitting there quietly. “Secure yourself for landing,” squawked the intercom. Selu sat up slowly, rubbing the aches out of his arms and legs. He had been sleeping on the deck, leaving the crude bed for Zan Arbor. He was relatively used to discomfort anyway, but he had planned on spending most of the trip using Jedi techniques to draw on the Force and prepare a plan of some sorts to get himself out of Mistryl custody. Unfortunately, that plan had been rudely disrupted. Jenna Zan Arbor had once experimented on Jedi, many years ago, and had encountered others throughout the war. She would have studied them and recognized Jedi-like behavior relatively quick and Selu simply could not afford that. However, not being able to draw on familiar meditation techniques had prevented him from strategizing as much as he would have wanted. The fact that they were fellow captives meant nothing; Zan Arbor was as slippery as a greased Dug and had always worked for the highest bidder. “We must be arriving on Emberlene,” said Zan Arbor, a bare hint of a smile on her face. “I’m overjoyed,” said Selu sarcastically. “I don’t understand what your problem is, Kraen. These people are willing to pay us considerably for our talents.” “Perhaps when they attack you and kill off your associates, it’ll make more sense,” he replied. “You are such a naïve idealist. Credits make associates fairly easy to replace.” “Some things are more important.” She laughed. “You certainly do a good imitation of a mad scientist.” There was no real response to that, so Selu shrugged and settled in to wait for set-down. Not long afterward, the door opened and two Mistryl appeared. “Get up,” said one of them. “The Matriarch is waiting to see you.” Selu and Jenna were quickly hustled out of the ship by the Mistryl out onto the landing pad. They were in some kind of enclosed compound that served as a landing bay, well-protected by hooded and robed Shadow Guards. Selu noted that it was evening local time and the stars were peeking through gaps in thick cloud cover. The sight of tall buildings and skyscrapers told him that they were in an urban area, but aside from the dim glowpanels revealing the pale green permacrete or equivalent material that everything seemed to be made of, he could not get a good idea of what the compound looked like. The Mistryl led both of them to a tall building with high, arched doors that adjoined into the bay, and the entire party stopped at the door, two Mistryl following behind with his computer core and another pair of storage cylinders that must have belonged to Zan Arbor. The lead Shadow Guard stepped forward as two guards appeared from nowhere. Apparently, her authorization was good, as the doors slowly creaked open and they were led into a sizable turbovator shaft tucked away inside the entrance. The deck of the turbovator easily accommodated all of them, and Selu noted that they ascended up until they were near the crest of the building. As the lift came to a halt, another pair of doors, also impressively high and covered with intricate carvings, slowly opened to reveal a long hall. Selu slowly walked down into the middle of the room. It was dimly lit, with an elevated dais illuminated by two torches at the end of the room, but a giant stained glass window that dominated the wall behind them likely provided more light during the day. The only other lighting in the room came from flickering torches tucked away into nooks along the wall that cast their flickering light along the pillars and walls of the room, providing a subterranean feel. There was a chair on the dais, and various holodisplays and consoles lining the walls of the room, neatly tucked away behind pillared alcoves, but their light was subtle and the sanctum at large remained shrouded in shadowy gloom. Selu observed that there were Mistryl manning some of the workstations, though he could not make out what they were working on. However, the chair at the end of the hall soon caught his attention. “Welcome, Jenna Zan Arbor and Sarth Kraen,” said an aged female voice slowly from the chair. A slender hand with long nails gestured out towards them as the voice spoke. “I am Palla D’sephone, Matriarch of the Mistryl.” At the sound of the name, all the Mistryl in their party dropped to one knee. Selu and Zan Arbor also hesitantly bowed. “Rise,” Palla said. “I apologize for the haste in which you were conducted here and in some cases” —here she cast an eye at Selu— “the circumstances in which you were approached, but I assure it was only what we felt was necessary. I will get right to the point with both of you. You are here on Emberlene because we have need of your services, as well-regarded and innovative scientists. We are assailed by those who would see us ruined, and the war goes ill for us. With your help, we shall turn the tide on our foes once more.” “What’s in it for our help?” asked Zan Arbor. “Ah, a woman of the galaxy. How refreshing. Have no fear, you will amply compensated for your time,” replied Palla, smiling. “Besides the standard room and board, there will be considerable financial incentive.” Palla snapped her fingers, and two younger Mistryl acolytes pushed in a pair of hoversleds from one of the side hallways that connected to the main hall near the front of the room, each loaded with a small trunk. Quickly, the two acolytes halted the sleds off to the side where both the scientists could see them easily. The lids were opened and even in the dim light, Selu could see the sparkling of precious gems. “They are small, legitimate, and quite untraceable. The current market value of each chest is 40,000 credits and there is more where that came from,” said Palla slyly. “What if we are not really interested in the offer?” said Selu. “In that case, Mr. Kraen, your stay on Emberlene might not be so pleasant. However, I understand that you’ve had a long trip and that you are weary. Forgive the impatience of my Shadow Guards. Helsi, provide accommodations for our guests for now. There will be another audience, but after they have a chance to rest.” Helsi bowed slightly at the waist. “It shall be as you command, Mistress.” An hour later, freshly sanisteamed and dressed in a clean utility jumpsuit that had been provided for him, Selu Kraen was led back into the Matriarch’s chamber. His hair was still tousled from the hour or so long nap that he had taken and somewhat damp, but other than that he looked fairly respectable. He had pulled his spacer’s jacket back on over his new clothes—his old ones had been taken while he was in the refresher. The Mistryl had been courteous enough since he had arrived, taking to him to a small bedroom complete with refresher for his own use. The quarters that had been loaned to him had certainly been functional enough, and if he was going to be here for a prolonged period, he expected that he would see more of them. However, that was hopefully not in the cards. Escorted up to the Matriarch’s hall again, he noted as he walked down toward the dais that Jenna Zan Arbor was already here, seated in one of the work alcoves and working on something. “Welcome back, Sarth Kraen,” said Palla in her oddly gravelly voice. Selu bowed slowly in response. “Rise. I trust you rested well.” It was not a question, but Selu answered it like it was. “I did indeed, Matriarch.” “Good. We have much to talk about, I think. Do you know what you were brought here for?” “Because of my work in droid programming and military technologies,” he said. If he weren’t posing as scientist, he might have tried baiting the Matriarch with some barbed wit, but that wouldn’t fit with this character. “That’s correct. Are you familiar with the droideka?” “Yes I am. I worked on them during the war; was even able to find a way to access and override their control algorithms.” “I know. That is one of the things you will do for us; controlling the droidekas we have been able to obtain will be of great help. Do so now—whatever you need can be acquired to get the task done. We have inactive droidekas in this complex if disassembly or manual manipulation is required and computing stations on hand for you to use.” Whatever I want. Hmm. How about a ticket off this planet and lifting the hunt off of my brother? Selu considered. However, quashing that thought, he returned to his scientist persona, trying to sound educated. “Preliminarily, I need to access the files embedded into the core I brought. I can’t commence alteration and control override programming on those droids until I retrieve the pertinent algorithms.” “Then perhaps you would care to activate the computer core now?” “Uh, certainly,” said Selu. Walking over to where the large cylinder was located, he opened the main access hatch, folding up a holodisplay and control panel. Trying to appear as calm and competent as possible, he went through the steps of activating the device as the instructions prompted him to. Thankfully, there did not seem to be many security devices, other than a voice recognition and retinal scan test that must have been coded based on his encounter with the Devaronian agent on New Holstice. Also, the computer had been programmed to run itself with relative ease of operator use, a sincere relief to Selu. A double-cross from the Car’das Syndicate was certainly a very real possibility, and an unpleasant one at that. Glancing at the holographic display, Selu noted that the computer was now fully activating, but it would require three hours for full functionality. “Matriarch, I have activated the core, but it will take some time for it to come online. I’m sorry, but it was built according to certain specifications and will need some time. I cannot change that now. Perhaps if it was linked into your power systems and data networks, the process would be faster.” The Matriarch contemplated his proposal, and then indicated to her attendants to attach the core into one of the networks. They did so silently, but that left Selu standing somewhat uncomfortably before her, wondering what to do now. He figured that having direct relays into the main data systems would allow the slicer programs in the core to bypass the security protocols and disable the defense systems faster, but there was still the issue of the three hours. Selu hoped that the Car’das group had timed this properly, or else it would be time for plan B. Also, the Matriarch seemed to have the same idea regarding his idleness. “It seems we have some time on our hands, Master Kraen.” “Yes, Matriarch,” he said, trying his best to look servile. There was a long silence, and Selu wondering if his answer was unsatisfactory. His hands fidgeted behind his back, though he earnestly wished his nervousness was not conspicuous to any casual observers. “Do you play dejarik?” the Matriarch asked suddenly. Selu thought back to countless hours of playing the game when he was a Jedi. “I used to be decent,” he said. “I figured you might be. Come up here on the dais and we’ll play a game.” “As you wish,” Selu answered. It wasn’t like he really had a choice in the matter. A new acolyte, also hooded, brought in a holographic game table from a corner and placed it on the dais near Palla’s throne, as one of the first two brought a chair for Selu. “Dejarik is an ancient game, a thinking game,” Palla said as she considered her opening move. “Much more sophisticated and subtle than sabacc or anything other such foolishness.” “Indeed,” agreed Selu. “Are you hungry?” asked Palla. “Yes, Matriarch,” Selu replied, as he was famished. She waved a hand and an acolyte disappeared down a hall only to reappear a minute later with a bowl of muja fruit, which she handed to Selu. The Matriarch started the game while Selu, munching on the crisp, juicy flesh of the muja, planned his own first move. He soon found himself mired in a contest of wills with the Matriarch, each player calling upon his or her knowledge of the nuances of stratagem, deceptions, counter-deceptions and various obscure tactics. Time dragged by, yet neither of them noticed it, too intent on the holographic game monsters decorating the polished dejarik board. They were evenly matched throughout the contest, though the Matriarch was slowly, gradually, taking over. Dejarik is a game of skill and strategy, noted Selu. One had to use his own pieces to their maximum effect while keeping the opponent from doing the same. Alternately, one could also feign weakness while disguising a trap for an unsuspecting opponent. Still other approaches to the game involved trying to maneuver the other player’s monsters into unfavorable positions where they could be bypassed in favor of more significant end goals, such as controlling the center squares of the circular board. The Matriarch was playing a highly deceptive strategy, utilizing a large variety of traps and leverage positions in an attempt to off-balance him. Her monsters stormed the board from all angles, seeking to cut off and isolate his pieces, a strategy which was so far proving to be largely successful. Selu considered using the Force to sense the perceptions and possibly the strategies of the Matriarch, but some strange feeling told him not to, that he should save his strength for later struggles. That same niggling urge had caused him to damp down his Force presence upon entering the hall the second time. Plo Koon would have called it the guidance of the Force and Selu willingly obeyed it, though he was not entirely sure why. He certainly could use the guidance of the Force, though pertaining to how to get out of this rancor’s nest, not dejarik. That was just a game. On the flip side of things, he wanted to beat the Matriarch, wanted to show her up. He was tired of being ordered around and of this charade of weakness, but the time wasn’t right. Selu leaned in closer to study the arrangement of the pieces and suddenly realized that it wasn’t just a game. The Matriarch’s strategy of cutting off each of his pieces and assaulting them from many angles was a mirror of the Mistryl Shadow Guard’s attacks on his family. His attempts at a fairly consolidated, conservative defense were staving them off, but could not endure for an indefinite span of time. Every single move that the Matriarch made was representative of the contest between the Mistryl and his family and each of his moves was comparable to the defensive strategies that had been used to counter them. Was that deliberate on her part, or mere chance? Having traveled the galaxy from a young age, Selu did not believe in chance. However, that meant that his next move would tell her what his plan was. She had contrived to place him in such a position that there was only one move that he could still utilize in order to win the game. The problem with that was that if she was using the dejarik board to determine his motivations, she would immediately know his intent in being here. There was no way a player of her skill could possibly miss it. As Selu stared at the pieces and tried to decide, he was distracted by a chiming sound. Following the sound back to its source, he noted that the computer core was signaling him. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said to the Matriarch. “I’ll return shortly.” She nodded, and he got up and walked down the steps to the computer core. The display read that it was eighty percent completed with activation. Did he want to commence the final sequence? Yes, he certainly did, despite the cost involved. With no small measure of trepidation, he keyed in the final commands and let the computer do its work; he had about thirty minutes more. “What does it say?” asked the Matriarch. “It wants to know if the final activation sequence should commence,” said Selu. “Did you start it?” she asked. “Yes,” he said. “Good. Then come back and we’ll finish our game,” she said, her eyes glinting. “It won’t be long, I think.” “No, probably not,” Selu said, a small bead of sweat trickling down the side of his head. He swallowed hard, then returned to his seat at the game table. “Your move,” said the Matriarch. “I know,” said Selu. It was decision time.
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