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| - R’hask Sei’lar looked over his shoulder nervously, his tan and brown fur rippling, as he walked down some of the shadier parts of Munto. Behind him, his first mate, Jorge, followed him at a respectful distance, keeping an eye out for anyone tracking the Bothan. Sei’lar ducked into one of the shadowy alleys nearby, Jorge following a few minutes later. Had he done so in full daylight, he might have been noticed, but in the dusky sunset the streets weren’t as full as they were during the day. Sei’lar mopped his brow and tried to smooth his fur. Gone were his usual jovial mood and nautical mannerisms. Jorge was also somber, alert and fingering the holdout blaster tucked into an underarm holster. Captain R’hask hoped that this deal would go as planned, but it never hurt to be on the safe side, especially on such a dangerous transaction. After waiting for several minutes, they were joined by another human ducking into the alley, who was wearing a dark gray cloak over his clothes and a low-brimmed hat that obscured his face. “Neeves, I’m glad you made it,” said Sei’lar. “So am I. I’ll be even happier when I’m back at home instead of handling this business,” replied Neeves. “I never thought it would have come to this,” Jorge said. “At first, I didn’t either,” replied Neeves. “But we have no other choice. It has to be done, and I’m all for starting quickly, before we’re discovered.” “You’re not the only who wants this to be over with,” assured Sei’lar. “But it’s for a good cause.” “Indeed,” said Neeves. “Where do we deliver the cargo?” asked Jorge. “Not to me,” Neeves replied. “That’d be too obvious. You’ll have a rendezvous on New Holstice in three days. It’s far enough out of the way that you can take care of business without drawing too much notice, although that may change soon. That Jedi memorial is bound to attract Palpatine’s attention. You’ll meet a Gungan named Skoors. He’ll take your cargo from there.” “All right. Three days it is.” Neeves turned to go, but Sei’lar placed one furred hand on his shoulder. “Will it work, Neeves?” he asked. “I hope so. Not if we’re discovered,” said Neeves tersely. “Just deliver your cargo, and you’ll be doing more than your part to help.” “You’re one of them—a soldier, aren’t you?” asked Jorge. “Yes, I am,” said Neeves. “Now, I really must be going. Skoors will meet you on New Holstice. He’ll take care of everything.” As the other human vanished off into the shadows, Sei’lar slid the datacard with the landing coordinates on New Holstice into a pocket and casually walked back out of the alley onto the streets. He and Jorge still had a lot of work to do, and they wanted to get back to the Hawk-bat to check on the preparations. Thankfully, Sarth and Micor were out of the way visiting their family, and Cassi was not as curious or observant as those two. R’hask had deliberately given her a lot of tasks to during the day, as it was her turn to remain on the ship. His excuse had been that he was testing her to see how much she could handle and as expected, she had believed him. R’hask really was testing her, just for different things. If she didn’t investigate the actual contents of the cargo, she passed. Rather than take a speeder, the two walked back to the ship. Though it took longer, they didn’t want to hire a speeder—too easily traced by anyone who might have been following them—and the weather was pleasant, with a cool breeze blowing through the Munto Valley from a sea twenty or so kilometers away from the city. The two journeyed through avenues of terraced houses that were built into the somewhat steep sides of the valley, many of which were accented with gardens and other greenery placed around it. Sei’lar found the appearance of the city to be overwhelming and rather unnerving, as his native town on Bothawui was surrounded by dry, rolling plains. Jorge was largely indifferent, too focused on keeping his captain safe to focus on the scenery. The roguish Corellian usually would have been keeping an eye out for any attractive females to socialize with or festive cantinas, but on this occasion, his mind was elsewhere. The captain and his first mate reached the spaceport after nightfall and were both inwardly relieved to see the Hawk-bat sitting on its pad, basking in the light from several glowpanels, the same as they had left it. As they walked up to the main personnel hatch on the ship’s neck, the hatch slid open at a wave of a securicard from Captain R’hask. The two entered to find Cassi asleep, her head resting gently on her desk in the hold and breathing with the long, rhythmic breaths typical of human sleep, weary from her duties and from being on ship’s time. A quick check of the ship revealed that everything was as it should be, although the comm console had a flashing red light indicating a recently missed transmission. Jorge went and checked it, reporting back to his captain. “Captain, it was Sarth.” “What did he want?” “He just met up with his parents, and Mrs. Kraen invited us to dinner tomorrow.” “That’ll be nice,” R’hask replied. “I like her cooking, and her husband is an old friend of mine.” “Good, because Sarth says she won’t take no for an answer.” “Another excellent reason to accept then,” replied R’hask, heating up two of the many prepackaged meals from the ship’s food storage unit for him and Jorge. After he finished eating, R’hask went to his cabin to record his log on his datapad. As he composed it, he thought long and hard about the choices he had made. Would they be the start of something new, or would they lead to his downfall? R’hask didn’t know, but he was apprehensive about the whole thing, and would be until they finished on New Holstice. He believed in the cause, or else he wouldn’t be doing it, but there were a lot of potentially lethal complications. He sighed. There were just too many things that could go wrong and he wasn’t sure he and Jorge could handle all of them. Emberlene Emberlene was a planet armed for war, engaged in a conflict to take over the neighboring planets. However, recently fortune had turned against her. Her armies and fleets had stalled in their conquest of the surrounding areas, and her leaders sought additional advantages to gain an edge in their localized conflict. Shadows and rumors had swept over the city, as dark plots were considered in secret places to rejuvenate their war effort. Their recent setbacks reminded them that only a major victory would allow the Mistryl to regain the momentum in the struggle. Deep in a dark stone sanctum lit only by the flickering glare of torches, Palla D’sephone sat on a chair made of carved Fijisi wood, awaiting the report from the holorecord. Palla was one of the Eleven, the matriarchal leaders of Mistryl society, and had been for many years. No longer young, she could still shatter duraplast with a blow or break a neck faster than many of the others. Now, instead of undertaking field missions herself, as she once had done, she gave orders to others. She was tasked with assigning covert missions because of her expertise in the area: not every Mistryl could claim two dozen covert missions pulled off successfully, as they could be abominably difficult and notoriously complex. On a holoprojector in front of Palla the image of a hooded operative, younger than she was, shimmered into existence. Palla directed her steely gaze toward the projector. Operatives had to be reminded of their place and proper respect was called for, especially from those who had yet to prove themselves. “I am at your service, Matriarch,” intoned the Mistryl. “Greetings, Helsi,” said Palla, her voice rasping just a bit, worn from age and the scar of a wound left there by an angry Trandoshan. “What is your report?” “We’ve picked up the trail of the scientist by tracking his ship, a light freighter called the Hawk-bat.” “How many crewbeings does it have?” “We have only seen five, Mistress, including the scientist.” “Will they be a problem?” “Five crew trouble for six Shadow Guards? I think not,” Helsi said derisively. “Have you boarded it yet?” “No, Matriarch. The ship has landed on Commenor though, where we are. I chose not to board the craft as that might attract attention, which you instructed us to avoid.” “Continue, young Helsi,” said the Matriarch. “I do not grow younger by the minute. I trust you have a plan?” “Yes ma’am. Fortunately for us, the scientist and another crewmember have left the ship. They appear to be heading for a small dwelling outside the city where the ship is. As we speak, Sallas and Vena are heading to take them on the ground, and another two of my team are watching the ship. I and an aide are in a civilian aircraft, posing as tourists taking a night flyby over the area to provide aerial coverage.” “Excellent. Ensure that the scientist is not unduly harmed when you bring him to us. He will need his wits about him.” “It shall be done, Mistress,” said Helsi. “Instruct your team to be wary. This Kraen has defeated a pair of sisters sent after him. We thought he would be easy to capture but apparently has turned out to be quite dangerous.” “We shall take all possible caution in the capture.” “Good. See to it that you don’t fail me, Helsi. Back when I was younger, field operatives who failed vital missions either returned successfully or they didn’t return at all.” “Yes, Mistress.” “And Helsi. . .” “Mistress?” “Team Cresh already has captured their mark. They’ll be bringing her back to Emberlene shortly. They already have a secured ship and are waiting for you at the rendezvous point.” With an impatient wave of her hand, Palla signaled the protocol droid attending her to cut off the transmission, which it did. She sat back in her chair, staring at a holo of their target, an engineer named Sarth Kraen who was reportedly a prodigy with droid programming. The Mistryl had painstakingly collected a sizable quantity of Separatist droid hardware, currently useless and deactivated. With Kraen’s assistance—willing or not—they would be able to strike decisively for control of the sector. Emberlene would rise and conquer her neighbors, , Palla was certain of it. The planet’s population had the willpower and discipline to do so. All they needed was the right weapons at their disposal, weapons that Palla had been painstakingly collecting for years. With a small wave of her hand, another hooded acolyte, one of several well-trained and entirely lethal aides that Palla surrounded herself with, entered silently from a hidden alcove, sidling up to Palla’s side to remove the holoprojector. Palla favored the attendant with a brief look and the smallest trace of a tight smile. The acolyte—a particularly difficult and unusually talented individual, Palla remembered—didn’t even notice, but simply picked up the holoprojector and glided back into the shadows, a sign that weeks of strenuous reconditioning had finally born fruit. Palla took pride in that accomplishment; her attendants were all finely honed implements of war, and she looked forward to using them, though not all of them had been willing at first. However, just like these elusive scientists that the Mistryl had been quietly gathering to their cause, the conditions of their service were irrelevant; the Mistryl did not concern themselves with such trivialities. Back on Commenor, Helsi sighed. She hadn’t told Palla that Vena and Sallas had already launched their capture attempt. Apparently, it hadn’t gone according to plan. Through electrobinoculars, she and her deputy Firad had seen flashes of blaster fire from the dwelling where Kraen was known to be located. Helsi had recommended taking them while they were en route to the dwelling, but Vena hadn’t been in position yet, so they had waited. Now it appeared that that particular decision had seriously backfired. By the time she had gotten her small airspeeder towards the dwelling, the lights and sirens of local security force landspeeders were evident, and she had been forced to leave. Helsi just hoped that Vena and Sallas hadn’t done anything to tip off their connection to the Shadow Guards, or her head might be on the chopping block. Not to mention that she still had to retrieve the oddly elusive scientist. “Firad, take the speeder back to the docking bay. We’ll call our sisters from their stalking positions and recoup.” “What happened down there?” asked Firad, a couple years and missions Helsi’s junior. “It appears Vena and Sallas failed to retrieve the scientist. He must have some sort of bodyguard there.” “What do we do now?” Helsi gave Firad a withering look. “I told you. We’re returning to the docking bay.” “Right. I meant about capturing the target.” “I don’t know yet, but I do know this: We will need to be much more cunning. All of us will have to be involved directly.” Firad was contemplative during the rest of their entire return, for which Helsi was grateful because she probably would have lost her cool had the conversation continued. Inwardly, Helsi was seething. A scientist who was barely supposed to be qualified to fire a blaster had eluded capture twice, and both times in the presence of a mysterious unknown human male. It was time to collect some more information, regroup, and plan again. The next time Sarth Kraen met up with the Mistryl would be his last. Helsi eventually met up with all the members of her team at the docking bay, Jirnza and Talisa arriving an hour or so after she and Firad had returned. The delay was welcome; it gave Helsi time to work out her anger, which she did by sparring with Firad. Currently, the younger Mistryl was lying on a couch, groaning from the punishment which Helsi had inflicted on her during their sparring. “So. What now, O glorious leader?” said Jirnza derisively. She and Vena had been close, Helsi remembered. This could go badly. “First, we need to find out about what exactly happened to Vena and Sallas. Second, we need to find out who stopped them.” “And what else?” asked Talisa. “Oh yes. We retrieve the scientist.” “Is that all?” retorted Jirnza. “Yes. Team Cresh already retrieved their mark. We should be ready to clear space in a few days. We can’t afford to give Kraen a chance to escape. Team Cresh reported that they were lucky enough to capture Zan Arbor when they did. Why do you ask?” “Because that task is proving to be kind of difficult.” “If it was easy, they wouldn’t have given us the job,” Helsi shot back. “I’m sure that’s exactly why they chose us for the mission,” Jirnza said, rolling her eyes. “Your vote of confidence is overwhelming. Do you have any real contributions to make to the team, Jirnza?” Helsi said. Jirnza obviously needed to be reminded of who was in charge. Fortunately, she didn’t react to Helsi’s biting remark. “Sure. I can do job number one easily,” said Jirnza. “Hacking into local law enforcement is what I do to help me sleep at night.” “Just don’t get caught,” warned Helsi. “Me? Never,” said Jinrza, her sarcasm returning. “Who’s on number two?” asked Talisa. “You and I are,” said Helsi. “If we can’t get close enough for direct observation, we’ll pose as security or lawyers.” “Right. What do I do?” asked Firad, sitting up from the couch she had sprawled out on. “You stay here until job number three,” said Helsi. “And how is that going to work,” asked Jirnza. “We just lost our sniper and intrusion expert. This could be a bit tricky.” “That’s why all four of us will be in on it,” Helsi responded. Did she have to do all the thinking and planning around here? “Unless you have a better plan, you have your assignments. Get to them,” she ordered. It had been a long day, and her mood hadn’t been improved by Jirnza’s actions. Too many things had gone wrong already. With clenched fist, Helsi decided that her string of failures would end now, and no one would stand in her way. Or else. Elsewhere on Commenor The harsh wail of sirens cut through the Commenor night. A small stream of law enforcement speeders, accompanied by a couple equipment sleds and a boxy ambulance wove their way through the Commenor countryside to stop at the Kraen estate. Armed officers had established a cordon, keeping their weapons ready, alert for trouble. Law enforcement being what it was on Commenor, there were two divisions of the keepers of the peace: the security branch, which handled witness protection, tactical operations, and most arrests, and the investigative branch, which handled forensics, evidence collection, and crime scene investigations. Members of both groups were here now, swarming across the property. Paramedics, loaded down with medkits, moved in to assist the family. Sarth Kraen helped his mother and father out of the house. Before the local security and paramedics arrived, he had been quick to hide the lightsaber his brother had used. There was no point in trying to disguise the damage done to the house--there was too much. Sitting down on the hood of his landspeeder as a paramedic checked him over with a medisensor, he ran his hand through his cropped, sweat-soaked hair. He had thought that the Mistryl had lost his trail, but their defeat on Coruscant had apparently made them more determined. Not only that, but now his parents were in danger and Selu was hurt. While Sarth didn’t think the injury was fatal, it did look serious. Two paramedics lifted Selu, who they’d sedated, onto a hover stretcher and loaded him into the ambulance. “Where are you taking him?” Sarth said, rising and walking towards the medics. “We’re taking him back to Munto, to the medcenter there. He’s pretty banged up,” replied the medic. “Will he be okay?” Sarth said, worried. “He should be. I’ve seen a whole lot worse, friend,” the medic said, his bit of gallows humor rankling with Sarth. As the medic walked back to the ambulance and it drove off, escorted by a Securer speeder, a uniformed human woman from the Investigators walked over to Sarth. She was of average height and slender, her brown hair fixed up firmly against her head and wearing a no-nonsense law enforcement expression on her face that softened somewhat when she saw Sarth. “Sarth? Is that you?” Sarth had been bleakly staring off into space when she called his name. Surprised, he turned and looked to see who was addressing him, recognizing the voice. “Annita? Annita Daowot from biology?” “You could say that,” Annita replied, the corner of her mouth twitching in a slight smile. “It’s actually Detective Daowot now, and I’ve been in the force for three years now.” “Impressive,” Sarth said. “It’s been a long time since secondary school.” “Yes it has,” Annita agreed affably. Then she returned to business. “What happened here, Sarth?” Sarth sighed. It was good and bad that Annita was here. Good, because he might be able to reason with her. Bad, because she had a stubborn and persistent nature that made her look into every little detail until she was happy, presuming that she hadn’t changed too much since he had known her. “My parents, my cousin, and I were asleep, but my cousin Micor heard something and went to investigate. He came in my room and woke me up. He said to go check on the parents.” “Then what happened?” “Next thing I knew, Micor was fighting with one woman and another one came in and attacked us. Micor must have defeated the first one and gone after the second one when she ran through the window and climbed the roof. I think he went after her and she fell off the roof or something.” “Did you know either of these women?” “No. Never seen them before.” “I see,” said Annita. “I never knew you had a cousin, Sarth.” “His side of the family has been estranged. I probably wouldn’t have seen him if he hadn’t been hired by the same person I work for.” “Where did all this weaponry come from?” asked Annita, indicating the assorted guns and knives lying around. “I dunno. Dad just had his spray stick and the little sport blaster, so I guess the attackers must have brought it with them.” “Do you, or your parents, or your cousin have any enemies that you’re aware of?” Sarth winced. This question was going to be a bit difficult to answer. “Um—Dad might have some angry people from the court business. Micor and I don’t have any that I know of.” At least, not personally, Sarth added to himself. Annita’s eyebrow shot up as she caught the slightly hesitant response. “What aren’t you telling me?” “Annita, I—uh, it’s nothing.” “What have you gotten yourself into, Sarth?” Annita said, half aghast and half suspiciously. “I can’t tell you,” Sarth answered evasively. “Spare me,” Annita countered. “In case you’ve forgotten, this badge I’m wearing means I deserve to know. Especially since there are two dead off-worlders lying here now.” “Annita—Detective Daowot, even—do you trust me?” said Sarth, looking square at her. “That’s not an issue,” she said professionally, smoothing some of her hair down. “Yes, it is,” insisted Sarth. “Do you remember when I saved your grade in that mathematics course—even after I caught you cheating?” “Actually, I had forgotten about that,” Annita said. “Right. How about the time you ran away from home because your dad was beating you?” “Oh yes. That.” “That’s right. It wasn’t your friends who helped you out, and it wasn’t your friends who had an abuse and negligence suit slapped on your father and got your custody transferred to your mother, was it?” “No,” Annita said, her eyes dropping. “It was the quiet work-crazy guy from class who noticed that you didn’t go home at night,” Sarth pointed out quietly. “Yes it was,” she admitted. “Annita—I’m not trying to take advantage of you. I promise, but there are things going on here that you have no idea about.” “Are you sure?” she asked. “I’ve seen a lot of things in my time in the force.” Sarth thought about his brother fighting in eye-blurring speed with a lightsaber against trained Shadow Guards. “I’m positive,” he said. “I need you to give me a chance.” “Just like you gave me a chance seven years ago,” she said. “All right, Sarth. You’ve made your point. I’ll supervise this case personally and, for the record, I won’t ask too many questions. Don’t push it, though.” “Thanks Annita,” Sarth said, relieved. “Hold on. Don’t thank me yet,” she said. Sarth looked at her quizzically. “I said for the record, I won’t ask too many questions. Off the record, I need more about what’s going on if I’m going to do my job.” “Are you sure it’s off the record?” “Don’t you trust me?” she replied pointedly. “I should have seen that coming,” he replied, then his tone softened. “It was good to see you again, Annita.” “I just wish it was under better circumstances,” she said. “I’ll meet you tomorrow at the Core of Cuisine Café for lunch.” “Lunch?” Sarth asked, startled. “Yes. It’s that meal between breakfast and dinner usually eaten around midday,” Annita said. “I expect to get the full story there. The truth, Sarth.” Sarth considered. On the one hand, he really wanted to be elsewhere, looking after Selu or talking to Captain R’hask, but then, he didn’t really have a choice. Plus, he didn’t think that anyone would try and attack a detective, not even the Mistryl, and especially not in a crowded café. There were too many witnesses. “Of course,” Sarth said. “I’ll see you then.” With that, he turned and walked off, heading for where his parents were sitting, looking worn and haggard. “How are you?” he asked. “We’re okay,” said Samtel. “It’s been a long night,” Lena added. “But we’ll be fine.” “Good,” said Sarth. “How is Micor? Have you heard anything yet?” “The preliminary diagnosis was okay. The Emdee droids said that most of the injuries were superficial and would heal quickly,” responded Lena. “Most of the injuries?” “They said his back had some internal damage. They weren’t sure of the severity until they went into surgery.” “I see,” Sarth said stolidly. “Sarth, who were those people?” Reluctantly, Sarth related his encounters with the Mistryl on Coruscant and in the research laboratory to his parents. Samtel and Lena, already shocked from the night’s events, took it in slowly. “Why didn’t you tell us?” Samtel said. “I thought we had lost them. I didn’t want to worry you.” “Sarth, it isn’t safe here for you anymore,” said Lena. “What?” “At least the government doesn’t know Selu is here. But these Mistryl, they know you’re here now,” Lena warned him. “Well, the government didn’t know that Selu was here,” added Samtel. “They’ll find out when they check him in at the medcenter and examine his identicard.” “No they won’t,” Sarth assured them. “I made a complete set of false IDs for Selu months ago. He probably doesn’t even still have his originals.” Samtel looked dubiously at Sarth. “That’s illegal, you know.” “Yes, I know. I thought long and hard about that when I made them. But no one’s going to take Selu away from us again.” Samtel smiled. “I didn’t say that you did the wrong thing, son. I never thought I’d say this about you breaking the law, but I’m proud of you. You’ve brought our whole family back together again.” “Thanks, Dad.” Turning, he walked off a few paces, pulling out his ship’s comlink. Activating the device, he raised the Hawk-bat. “Captain R’hask, come in. This is Sarth Kraen. Jorge, are you there? Cassi?” There was static from the comlink for a little bit and Sarth feared that the Mistryl had attacked the crew also. Then he heard a voice back through the speaker and he quickly spilled the story. There was no time to waste any more.
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