Last Words

"Is it done?"

Red One's hologram flickered as he spoke. Masked and impassive, his face betrayed no emotion but Gannar could hear the tension in his voice. This was their biggest action to date and, unless he missed his guess, only the start of something much bigger. Gannar chose his next words carefully, phrasing things in as neutral a tone as possible.

"Yes, sir. The two mercenaries you requested have been dispatched using the special vehicles as you directed."

"Have there been any delays?"

Gannar's brow furrowed. Did Red One have other informants in the Tatooine base? How could he have known about the alien woman or the missing operative? Red One's question was a leading one; perhaps he did not actually know but was merely fishing. Time to be diplomatic again, and perhaps do a bit of fishing on his own.

"Nothing significant, sir. Were you concerned about something?"

The helmed figure shifted in its glowing blue and white image. "Then you have no personnel unaccounted for?"

Blast it; he did know. But why this verbal game? Red One not just directly asking him about the technician and the other bounty hunter could only mean that he didn't trust whatever answers he might get. That meant that at some level, Red One didn't trust him.

Gannar clenched his jaw. After all this time, all these tests of loyalty, his place in the Scarlet Wake was still tenuous?! Surely he'd proven himself. Surely the leader of the Wake, assuming Red One really was the highest authority in the group, trusted him by now. Perhaps these were just precautions.

Surely that was it. Red One was just being cautious. Only one way to find out, though. Gannar took a deep breath and did something he'd never done to his superior before; he lied.

"Yes, sir. Every member of the Tatooine chapter of the Scarlet Wake is present and accounted for here. Our only two outstanding are on assignment, ensuring the success of your objectives involving Operation Planetfall."

There was a long pause. Did Red One believe him?

"One last thing, Red Two."

Gannar breathed a sigh of relief. There was no mistrust in the leader's tone of voice.

"Anything, sir."

The image flickered and changed to a schematic of the massive Ithorian vessel in orbit over Tatooine - the target of Planetfall. Two red dots glimmered into view over the ship's station-keeping thrusters. "Primary explosives have been placed already, yes?"

Gannar nodded, speaking affirmatively.

"Yes, sir. Primary charges were set before the vessel left its last port of call. The secondary charge inside the ship's bio-dome was set up yesterday and slaved to a remote detonator. You should have the code with you, sir."

The image returned to Red One, his blank steel face nodding slightly.

"Correct. And the two operatives you sent to oversee the successful detonation of the primary charges have not been informed about the secondary device?"

Gannar smiled, pleased that all was returning to normal.

"Indeed, Red One. They have no advanced warning, as per your instructions. They will be caught in the secondary charge's blast radius and destroyed along with the target."

Inwardly, Gannar considered this a waste. Even if the Wake needed bodies to blame the attack on for alibi reasons, why had it been necessary to sacrifice two priceless pieces of technology with them? Perhaps there really was more going on here than just taking out a few million aliens.

"You have everything in order, Red Two. The Scarlet Wake commends your efforts."

Gannar beamed. No matter what this mission was a prelude to, he was sure now that his place in it was secured. From here, his good service could get him moved to Red One's location and put in charge of a larger part of the Wake. There was still so much to do, so many aliens to do away with and power centers to destabilize. The future was looking very bright.

"Thank you, my lord. Your orders?"

Red One's image showed the masked figure pushing a small button on the console at his right hand. A set of six lights illuminated above the button, one vanishing almost immediately.

"No further orders, Red Two. You may stand down."

A second glow went dark, leaving only four.

"Stand down? Sir? What do you mean?"

Half the lights were out now.

"The Tatooine chapter is no longer required."

Two glowing lights remained, even as the image of Red One started to fade.

"But... what are we supposed to do now, sir? What about us?"

All the lights were gone except for one.

"Your sacrifice will be remembered."

The last light disappeared and with it, so did Red One's transmission.

"Sacrifice?!?!!"

-----

Gannarsen had been right about one thing.

His future, both seconds of it, was very, very bright...

The Ticking Clock

"Is he dead?"

Darrus didn't mean to sound so cold; his tone was stilted and quiet all the same. Since he'd woken up, it had been hard for him to articulate anything emotional. He suspected something was interfering with his ability to feel - probably the same something still stretching its microfilaments through his brain.

"No. He's comatose but he's not dead." Maya's voice was just as flat. She was slightly more emotional in her words than him; Darrus suspected that was her natural empathy at odds with her own Mandalorean implant. It would also explain why she woke up with a migraine and he did not.

"Can you do anything for him?"

Maya nodded, already cradling the bounty hunter's head in her lap and injecting his arm with a spray hypodermic. "His device seems to have malfunctioned slightly. One of its cerebral probes has gone off course and burrowed into his hypothalamus. The hormonal imbalance has..."

Darrus shook his head. "No time. Can you help him?"

Maya nodded again. "Yes. I've got him stable and once his vitals went back up, the probe corrected itself. I think it's working now. He'll sleep for a while but he'll live."

Darrus took a moment to look over the war droid standing in front of him. "And these... They are somehow bonded to us now. Any way to reverse it?"

His partner frowned. "I do not think so. The implant had anchored into our skulls and its leads are..."

He interrupted again absently, his hands checking the plating of his droid for some way to extend its boarding rungs. Instantly, a dozen half-moons of dark steel slide out of its side, a ladder ascending to its armored saddle. "I can feel the leads; they are still active."

"Yes they are. I am fairly sure they will stop once they completely weave their way into our nervous systems. I don't think they will hurt us, though."

Darrus had to agree. His 'conversation' with Vykara had not ended poorly. As long as she was in control of this massive steel beast, he doubted it would ever be a threat to him. His real concern was what would happen if she couldn't control the robot. As scared as she felt in his dreamscape, he had his doubts about her ability to remain calm and focused during battle.

Still, Vykara had been a Jedi padawan. He would have to trust in her training. He might even be able to draw on her experiences as a Jedi to help her deal with what had happened. He could only barely imagine what pain she'd already gone through. And being completely divorced from life, entombed in a metal shell? Such a horror was inconceivable. For her to have been sane enough to even reach out to him like she did? That spoke of serious inner strength.

"Darrus?"

Jeht blinked. He'd been standing against the war droid, eyes closed, for... well, he didn't actually know how long. "I'm sorry. I was lost in thought."

Maya smiled and squeezed his arm gently. "It's all right. It's been happening to me too."

"Must be a side effect of the implant."

Maya walked over to her own droid, its ladder extending as she approached. "Let's hope it's a temporary one. A flashback in the middle of a fight could be..."

He finished her sentence, "...fatal. Yes."

Both of them slid into the saddle cockpits of their droids, both surprised by how comfortable the padding and contours of the machine felt. It was practically molded to them - a perfect fit. Controls lit up unbidden, a low, crackling thrum of ionic engine power building in the hearts of their combat robots.

Darrus put his helmet back on, becoming Wraith again as it settled in and locked shut.

"We have less than an hour left. If we stand any chance of stopping Planetfall..."

Maya pulled on her own helmet and nodded, acting as his Echo as she completed his thought. "...we have to move quickly."

Wraith tilted his head, thinking something without saying it. *Are you reading my mind?*

Her answer came swiftly, an audible voice that seemed to reverberate through the front of his skull. *Only when you send like that. Are you hearing this?*

He just nodded silently and reached out to the droid's controls. Without actually touching them, several buttons started to glow. The machine was controlled through willpower, something Darrus had heard of but never actually seen in action. Some Jedi had lightsabers that activated by thought but to the best of his knowledge, that was as complex as the technology had ever gotten.

Apparently, he was wrong. The robot, which he instinctively know to be a 'Basilisk', was completely under his mental control, able to react to his thoughts like an extension of his own body. At the same time, it had a will of its own and could act independently if it wished to.

In many ways, it was like the Force itself. Controlled yet separate, willing to serve yet possessing its own desires and identity. There was a duality to this droid, a fact that led Darrus to wonder off-handed if the Basilisk had a dark side as well.

*Darrus?* Maya's mental voice brought him back to the present.

*I did it again, didn't I?*

He could feel her soft amusement as she sent, *Yeah, a little. Not long though.*

He sighed inwardly and thought about lifting off. Instantly, thrusters pivoted beneath him and lifted the droid into the air. It was an interesting feeling; he was both riding a flying vehicle and also sensing the air rushing past him as if he was the vehicle itself. This was going to take a lot of getting used to.

*We don't have any more time to waste. The Ithorians have forty two minutes before the Scarlet Wake's bomb tears out their ship's hull. We...*

There was even more amusement as Maya finished his sentence, this time doing it intentionally. *...have to find it and dismantle it before that happens.*

Darrus glowered, his face hidden by his helmet but the emotion not at all lost on her. *You are really enjoying this, aren't you?*

Maya did not hesitate at all before answering, even as their droids' cockpits unfolded behind them and rose up to cover them before they left the atmosphere.

*Oh yes!*

Compassion Revisited

Unconscious.

Wandering.

Lonely.

Dark.

"What are you?"

Jeht could feel nothing. See nothing. Hear nothing. Even the 'voice' was more a thought, a sensation surrounding him in this midnight dreamland. There was nothing but him here. Him... and the presence of another.

'Who are you?"

The shadows were infinite but as he drifted, Darrus could feel a current running through this ephemeral sea. The void was immense, perhaps infinite, but it seemed to be traveling to some distant point. Instead of fighting the current, Darrus let the stream take him along with it. There was nothing else here; perhaps the current would carry him to whatever was speaking.

"Why are you here?"

Jeht had tried to answer the words already but in this place, there was no sound. Nothing escaped his lips. He'd even tried to use the Force to speak. Still nothing. The voice seemed almost desperate to speak but struggle as he might, Jeht could offer no reply.

"What are you?"

The farther he drifted, the more substance there seemed to be in the void around him. He could feel eddies in the darkness, emotions and memories half realized. There was a mind here; something terribly alien and distant. There was no sense of physical self, just an awareness as vast as an ocean and as nebulous as space itself.

Each time he passed through a ripple of emotion, he tried to make contact with it. He envied Maya for her empathic gifts right now, wondering if she was having a similar experience. Similar perhaps, but not the same if what he'd suspected in the hanger was true.

Whatever these droids were, they were not just robots. Somewhere inside them, just like he'd seen in the Jedi Hunter months ago, there was something alive. In fact, the strange droids were a lot like the Jedi Hunter. Similar presence in the Force, similar mechanisms. In some way, they were related. These huge machines were built, or at least modified, by the same hand that had constructed that vile, murdering....

Jeht tried to center himself. Such fury was unbecoming to a Jedi. That, and as his own emotions became turbulent, so too did this sea of shadows around him. He could sense similar anger, similar pain and loss in the mind at the heart of this dream. If he wasn't calm, the mental landscape he was trapped in could get very, very uncomfortable.

Stilling his emotions made the current flow both faster and easier. He moved past whirlpools of anguish and through tides of rage. The dream mind was surrounded by dark emotions that easily matched the worst within himself.

It was only when he tried to calm the pain and fear around him that Jeht managed to make any contact at all. Reaching out to ease the ragged agony in this teeming void, he was suddenly confronted by a rushing wave of awareness, a relentless assault of questions and focus and boundless fear.

"Who are you? Where are you? Where am I? What am I?!?"

Darrus took a moment to relax, forgetting his own anxiety long enough to try and offer what answers he could. His response manifested as telepathic force, louder and stronger than ever before. Wherever he was, physical limits did not apply. The power of the mind was paramount here - a sort of shadow space where only Will had any true existence or impact on reality.

"I am Darrus. I do not know you, but I know what you are."

"What? What am I?"

"You are within a machine, part of a droid."

As he expected, the darkness around him shuddered in confusion and fear.

"Cold. So cold."

Again, Darrus envied Maya. She would know what to say. She would be able to help this mind, this disembodied soul. He was no good at this; his world was violence. Healing, while not an unknown concept, had never exactly been a focus. Nor had diplomacy. Still, the heart of this dreaming horror needed help and though he didn't know what to say, he knew he had to say it.

"I... I'm sorry."

It was weak, a very weak attempt to help. Like putting a small bandage on a blaster wound, it felt like too little too late. To the presence around him however, his three words seemed to make all the difference.

"Help me?"

"I will if I can."

Though he had no idea how to fulfill such a vow, he meant every word. There was a lot he did not know about the droid but he was more certain than ever that it was actually some kind of cyborg. How much was left of the original creature? No way to know while he was here. But once he returned to his own body, he would try to find out. And if there was a way to restore the being, he would... or at least see to it that it found peace.

"I don't want to die."

Jeht sighed. He should have expected the mind to be able to read his. especially now that he was apparently so close to its heart. The shadows and darkness were parting around him; there was some kind of light ahead. The current was stronger too; even if he hadn't wanted to enter the radiant core of the dream, he might not have been able to break away.

"I know. But if I can't free you..."

"I just don't want to be alone."

As the light opened and took him inside, he could finally see the mind's self image. He was surrounded by a sphere of metal, its core a smaller ball of crystal with radiance pulsing in and out of it along ghostly lines like hovering circuits. Within the clear orb, a floating figure was suspended in what appeared to be a contained gale of wind and glittering snow.

It was a woman, human and sleeping. Her long pale hair was whipping madly around her unclad body, caught in the hurricane of her crystal prison. Though her eyes were closed, he instinctively knew the voice was hers. This was the presence inside the droid.

And he knew something else, something he'd suspected the moment he felt her through the silver curtain covering her mobile tomb.

She was Jedi.

He drifted closer, the current bringing him right up to where she slept in her glowing sphere. Lines of white and red and shadow arced from the walls and passed through him, connecting Jeht to her thoughts in a web of power.

"Please. Don't kill me. I don't want to die... again."

Before he could respond, his vision was overwhelmed by a memory of pain. Of running across a rooftop on Cularin, of his/her boots catching on loose gravel as Death itself stalked behind. As her, he watched helplessly as a metal murderer brought her down within sight of the city lights below. There was pain. And blood. And then darkness.

Darrus knew who she was now and the realization stunned him. When the Jedi Hunter first started stalking the Cularin system, his first kills had been a Jedi Master and three young padawans. The master and two of the trainees had later been found as part of dark Sith devices in the industrial factory lair of the Jedi Killer. The missing padawan's body had never been recovered.

Until now. He searched his thoughts, trying to remember her name. The figure in the crystal globe stirred as her attention focused ravenously.

"Please... yes... who am I?"

He paused, unsure if he should tell her. The shock of self-identity might be a terrible blow to her, another link to how much she'd already lost. His doubt did not last long, however. For better or worse, she deserved to know. It was such a small thing, really - just a name. But to her, it was everything. He didn't have to be very empathic to know that.

"Vykara Zaa."

He felt the ripples of awareness as the mind accepted her name, the tremors of shock as it settled into her psyche and dredged up thousands of memories that hurtled past him like solar flares. His dreaming existence seemed to fade as the world became trouble and reverie and raw, quaking emotion.

Vykara, at some level, seemed to sense his distress. Clumsily, the current that brought him here sent him away, back into into the darkness outside her core.

"Go. Be safe. Forgive me."

He shook his head. Or rather, thought about shaking it. The gesture seemed to translate mentally. He knew this was not her fault, that she was pushing him out of harm's way.

"No need. Thank you."

The waves of telepathic motion were swiftly carrying him to the edge of her dream. He knew without knowing how that when he reached it, he would return to himself. He would wake up and return to the physical world. Somehow, he also knew he wouldn't completely leave this place. A pain in his mind, in his forehead that did not exist here, stretched thin as he traveled away - a tether that bound him to this place.

"Please... don't leave me."

He felt her voice getting softer as he neared the border of the dream world. As gently as he could, compassion still a difficult thing for him to understand or offer, he shook his head again.

"Do not worry. I do not think I could, even if I wanted to."

A trembling thought followed him out.

"Do you want to?"

In the last instant of his presence within the darkness, he answered honestly.

"No."



And with that, Darrus woke up.

<--- Double Update --->

Be sure to read Awakenings before Curiosity.

Just trust me on that one.

Curiosity

"Frang it all! The hanger's been here the whole time!"

Crouching behind a windblown rock, Narr lowered his macrobinoculars and cursed. Two kilometers away, a mountain loomed high overhead, its eroded sides apparently sheer and unwelcoming. Narr knew the truth now; a hologram generator was hiding the entrance to the secret base he'd heard about months ago. Following those three had paid off, though he was still frustrated that he'd not been able to find this place on his own.

"Chalk one up to Gannar. The man can keep a secret."

He pulled his thinsuit gloves tight and hopped astride his speeder bike, thumbing its throttle and swooping out from behind the shelter of his rocky perch. The slave tech and the two bounty hunters had been in there a few minutes now; he could likely approach safely.

At least, he could have if his speeder was working. A loud snap and a grind of smoke from its engine casing brought his flight to an abrupt, violent stop. The front of the bike unceremoniously slammed into the sand, sending him vaulting end over end forward. Using more physical skill than the Force, Narr managed to keep from being injured, but the yielding amber ground had a lot to do with it as well.

Looking up at the Tatooine cloudless sky, he grumbled to himself about new technology and not being able to trust it. His faithful old swoop was being refitted after its run in with Wraith a few days ago. Accordingly, he'd had to borrow a new one from the Wake's vehicle pool. He really should have known better.

New things never worked well for him.

Now he was aching all over and had no ride. This wasn't likely to end well. Taking a draw off the water line in his suit, he stood up and brushed himself off. "Frang it all..." The bike was a complete loss and he didn't have time to fix it any way. After quickly weighing his options, he started moving towards the mountain. Broken speeder plus Tatooine heat plus less than three hours before Planetfall meant he had to get to that mountain and hope there was a way to warn the Ithorians on Shin'da'ruu before it was too late.

No time to be subtle now. If Wraith or his counterpart got in his way, that would go poorly. For them. A battered but utterly familiar metal rod pressed into his left hand as he ran, shedding the hydrospanner shell that concealed it. He'd not wielded his saber in some time but right now, too many lives were at stake.

He was less than a kilometer away when the holo covering the base's ground entrance flickered and a single swoop came out. Diving for cover, he watched as the swoop turned away from his approach and raced off over the dunes. Even without optics, the lack of hair and shape of the body let him know it was the Zabrak tech. She was making a break for it.

He felt for her; he really did. Unfortunately, he knew something she didn't. Her spine had a small dermal charge set in it. At any time, Gannar could use the comm relays on Tatooine to hit her with a signal and she would simply die. Neural shockers were nasty tech, complicated to implant and even harder to disarm.

Fortunately for Slash, Narr hadn't spent the last twenty years pining over the loss of the Jedi Council. He'd moved on with his life, doing what good he could and learning things Almas would never teach. He quickly fetched his worn but functional datapad from his satchel and pointed his transmission port at the quickly fading Zabrak. Running a codebreaker program, he hacked into her spine zapper and deactivated it.

The lovely alien would still have to deal with Gannar's fury once he learned she was still alive but at least she had a chance now. He wished her luck and hoped she was smart enough to catch the first ship off this rock. He folded the pad closed and tucked it away, resuming his run.

He made it to the base of the mountain, subtle use of the Force making his trip as quick as possible. Just as he reached the hidden entrance, there was a rasping sound of huge metal plate high above. He knew what that had to be; the hanger undoubtedly had a roof access. It was opening. He was running out of time.

Hoping his hunch was right and the base's defenses were down, he set out in a full run up the access tube. The going was rough as the path was designed for swoops and not people on foot. Once again, the Force came to his rescue. He felt the fang of fatigue that came along with heavy use of his powers now. He wasn't getting any younger, after all, and he'd hidden for so long. The paths in his body weren't used to so much energy.

The Force did its magic and propelled him up the twisting corridor. He was pleased to see all the blast doors open, all the check points deactivated. The base was defenseless, not that he knew way. He'd long ago learned to trust his feelings; they hadn't steered him wrong.

He came up into the hanger with his blaster in hand and his saber pressed against his forearm, ready to lash it out and ignite its cyan blade at a moment's need.

There wasn't a need. There was no danger.

Or rather, whatever danger was here had apparently passed. There were, however, casualties. Wraith and Echo were lying on the ground, small wounds in the center of their brows. Head shots, and damned precise ones. The rounds used to take them down were still visible, protruding slightly from their skin. Odd.

He made a mental pass through the chamber, double checking that the sniper wasn't still here. He doubted Slash, despite her name, would have done this. She was a skittish woman, kept enthralled to the Wake because of her technical skills. She was no assassin.

His senses detected aggression in the room, but no active hostility. There was something here, several actually. Mental patterns caught in somnolence, like people asleep. Two of them were more aware but he couldn't pinpoint them. That made him nervous. Hidden targets meant another ambush could happen. Taking to the shadows, he made his way slowly around to Wraith and Echo. They might be beyond his help but perhaps he could get a better idea what he was up against by checking their bodies.

He was halfway across the wall where the two were laying when a low sound of shifting metal drew his attention to the command console on the far side of the hanger. What he'd assumed to be towering loading droids were moving around it, accessing its functions through flexible link tendrils. He'd never seen machines like them before - hovering, armored and bearing obvious weapon ports. Battle droids of some kind, clearly, but of what design? And where had the Scarlet Wake gotten them?

One of the pair turned his direction, a swiveling camera port scanning across the hanger. Moving fast, he ducked under a huge silver curtain, seeking to get out of sight before it tracked him. Back to the wall, he waited several breaths before moving again.

Except that, as he paused, it became clear he wasn't up against a wall. Curved steel was pressed against his back, cables under his still touch. Slowly, he risked turning around and taking a closer look. He was standing beside a sphere of folded plating, the thick armor concealing another droid like the two at the controls outside. His active mind could sense its presence as well.

It was a droid, clearly, but it wasn't invisible to the Force. How that was even possible boggled the mind. He knew there were lives at stake, millions of them, but he wouldn't likely last long if he charged out into the hanger recklessly. Better to bid his time until the droids turned back to their task, whatever that was. And while he waited, he could examine this strange machine.

Along its front face, there were dozens of shielded ports and one encased in a thick crystal lens. leaning over the cowling of the sphere, he pulled off his thick, cumbersome cowl and took a closer look...

Awakenings

Gannarsen did not like to wait, especially when there was a deadline looming over his head. The Scarlet Wake was a delicate organization, no matter how much it looked to outsiders like a simple hate group. He knew what its real purpose was, after all - at least its real purpose on Tatooine.

Since earning his rank as Red Two on Tattooine, he'd begun to realize there was more going on than what he'd been told before. Timed actions, coordinated attacks and specific messages in particular places all guided by an external authority; these pointed to a larger plan. Before being told about Operation: Planetfall, he had assumed the greater scheme was being orchestrated by Red One but now...

Now he had his doubts. Red One, in the conversation that revealed what the Scarlet Wake intended to do during Operation: Planetfall, honestly sounded to him like the shadowy, helmeted figure was relaying the actions to him on behalf of someone else. Someone above Red one?

Gannar had been in the Wake since its formation a year ago on this backwater world. He'd originally believed it was just on Tatooine but he knew better now. There were chapters on Sullust, Coruscant, Corellia and at least four other planets. In his entire time with the brotherhood, he'd never been given a reason to suspect a higher authority than Red One. But now, if his suspicion was correct, there was a leader above the one he answered to - a hidden mastermind with a penchant for violence and destruction far beyond his imagination.

Operation: Planetfall had shocked him when he'd heard about it. After getting over his surprise, the idea of it appealed to him on so many levels. Not only would it be a terrible blow to one alien race, the residual fallout would cripple the non-human hold on Tatooine. Yes, a few of the one true race would die in this attack but it was a sacrifice worth making. Worth their lives and worth the priceless technology he would have to devote to the attack.

Speaking of sacrifices, it was time to call in his would-be martyrs. The time was O:P - 3 hours, precisely when he was told to begin the mission. Of course, the people he would use for Planetfall would have no idea they were being spent permanently but afterwards, he would ensure they were remembered as willing, patriotic Wakers.

It was the least he could do.

-----------------

"I need to know where we are going." Darrus was using his mechanical Wraith voice again. Maya always felt a chill run up her spine when she heard it. Hissing and menacing, the voice was one of Vaaro's nicest touches on the Jedi's costume. Its effect on others was also interesting to watch.

Their escort, a Zabrak woman named Slash, shuddered. She was doing her best not to quail from Wraith's impassive, intimidating presence as it was; Jeht's "evil" voice wasn't making that any easier.

The three of them were racing on swoop bikes across the sand dunes of the Jungian Wastes as fast as their repulsorlift engines could move. The clock was ticking. They had two hours and forty one minutes left to accomplish what seemed like the impossible. Even if it was something they could do, it was certainly unthinkable.

Maya, "Echo" to the Scarlet Wake, missed the Zabrak's shaky response because she was lost in her musings. Their mission was more horrible that anything she could have expected the hate group to ask of them. She'd been mentally prepared to kill if it was required. In the Rebellion, she'd killed Imperial forces several times. She hated the idea of killing someone innocent, but taking down the Wake was worth it if she had to do so.

Of course, she was also willing to kill because she could tell Darrus was struggling with his own violent nature. Saving him from having to kill by taking the burden upon herself was a decision she'd made when she first agreed to be his partner. She wanted more than that, much more, but the Scarlet Wake had kept them from discussing such things.

There would be time for talking after the Wake was in flames. As far as Echo was concerned, that couldn't happen soon enough.

She didn't come back to the present until the shadow of a mountain darkened her surrounds. They were racing towards the rock face at full speed, something that didn't seem to disturb Slash at all. Wraith was impossible to read as usual. She suppressed her concern and trusted in him. If he was going to ram the mountain, so would she.

Even so, she still closed her eyes just as they hit...

Except they didn't. Almost instantly, she opened her eyes to see a nearly circular shaft arching up in front of her. The other two swoops were moving ahead, increasing in speed. Breathing again, she did the same. In less than a minute, they emerged into a large chamber with a high peaked roof. The ceiling was obviously hinged and connected to motors.

The room was a huge hanger and landing port, hidden in a mountain in the deepest wastelands of Tatooine. As impressive as that was, it wasn't what had her attention.

Or Jeht's.

He was standing next to his hovering bike, staring at a row of large shapes, covered in metallic tarpaulins. The corners of the tarps were linked with a suspension chain, energized and caught in a power field. Whatever was under the silver sheets obviously required a lot of security. Two massive auto-cannons, already locked on her and Jeht, emphasized that point quite well.

"What... what's under there?"

Maya blinked. Darrus wasn't using the voice augment. Something had him either distracted or disturbed. The odds of Slash being sensitive to the Force were slim, slim enough to risk letting her abilities unfold. If he was upset, she wanted to know why. Closing her eyes again, she opened her senses.

And almost instantly recoiled! There was something here, several somethings, coiled and waiting. A low, simmering aggression filled the hanger, centered under the huge reflective curtains. Whatever rested beneath them was, in some bizarre and hostile way, alive!

Wraith walked toward the powered field, slight flickers of electricity arcing between the tarps and his armor. The Zabrak looked alarmed and started to move forward but he raised his hand and she stopped in her tracks.

Now he used his darker voice. "What is under here?"

Slash looked down for a moment, steeling her resolve before answering. "This is a secret armory of the Scarlet Wake, sir. Mister Gannarsen asked me to bring you here to equip you for your mission. You..."

"I did not ask for a briefing. What is under here?" The flashes of lightning were now leaping along his entire body; he was almost through the power field, less than a foot from the shimmering sheet.

"Mister Gannarsen wanted me to provide you with a way to reach your mission objective, sir." Her tone was curt and withdrawn; her emotional state was a few seconds from collapsing in fear. Darrus wasn't shielding well right now and he was obviously angry. Taking a deep breath, Maya reached out with her mind and ignored the sensations beneath the tarps long enough to soothe the frightened Zabrak.

"We already have a vehicle." As he spoke, he turned to stare at Slash. All the woman could see was black metal and her own terrified face.

Damn it. He wasn't helping. What was upsetting him so much? "Wraith, she can't help us if you melt her brain. We don't have time for this." Maya fought to kept her tone calm, mostly because she wasn't immune to his intensity either. He was furious, not that she knew the reason for it.

Fortunately, he reacted to her better than the pleading eyes of the Zabrak. "Of... course." He turned away and stepped back out of the field. His armor was steaming, unharmed but still crackling across its smaller plates.

That broke his spell of fear over the woman, long enough at least for her to move across the room to a small console. Quickly pushing a series of code keys, she brought down the energy protections and deactivated the guided cannons overhead. A moment later, a crane activated above them and started to come down over the shape in front of Wraith. His attention was locked on it, tension evident in his almost-trembling stance.

Maya moved closer to him, whispering, "Wraith, what's wrong?"

He didn't respond.

"Darrus...?"

He flinched slightly. That was the extend of his reaction. Then the curtain came up.

What was revealed was both shocking and confusing, a tangle of metal and cables nearly spherical in shape. It was more than six meters wide, covered in armored panels and seemed to contain a massive amount of droid actuators and electronics. Though it was oddly vicious looking despite its obviously compressed form, there was no apparent reason for Jeht's reaction to it. What was going on?

The crane moved to the left, revealing another dark metal sphere. "Please," the Zabrak woman said quietly, as if she didn't want to attract attention to herself. "Remove your helmets and use the retina scanners to activate the droids."

Darrus did not even hesitate. Maya was worried that he would risk his identity by revealing his face but she did the same. Helmets off, she followed his lead and approached the huge metal ball in front of her. There were several objects embedded in its front plating, only one of which looked like an optic of any sort. A small red light flickered to life in its depths as she approached.

Looking into the glass-shrouded aperture, Maya was prepared when the red glow flared brighter and scanned her retina. It was vaguely painful but she knew it was coming.

What she wasn't prepared for was the giant metal ball to lurch to life, huge clawed arms unfolding and coming down on either side of her. A four lobed hand emerged from the plate above her, opening and slamming down like the sting of a scorpion. In less than a heartbeat, the dark steel hand closed around her head, driving a thin needle from its 'palm' directly into her brain!

----------------

Slash finally dared to open her eyes. She's cringed away as soon as the battle droids started moving. The sounds of their screeching steel joints had been like a banshee's wail, unnerving her even more than she was already. Being an essentially enslaved alien technician for a human's only hate group was hard enough; dealing with bizarre, lethal technology she only barely understood was almost more than she could take.

Once she realized the droid were not rampaging around the hangar and that the bounty hunter wasn't about to kill her, she calmed down enough to look up.

Both Wraith and Echo were laying on the ground, bleeding from their foreheads while two massive death machines towered over them - motionless gargoyles of metal and shadows. Mister Gannarsen had warned her about this. The droids were waiting for their bonding implants to burrow into the two human's cerebral cortexes.

She didn't envy them. This was obviously a painful process, judging by the way they were twitching and writhing on the ground. For a moment, she was worried for their safety...

Then it occurred to her. They were unconscious, but she knew they would be waking up soon. The droids would not respond to her if she didn't approach them, something she had no intention of doing. The base's defenses were all deactivated at the moment to allow the droids to integrate with its control systems and open the roof doors when they were ready to leave.

All that, and she was all alone with three swoop bikes...

---------------

"Good luck, you two!" Slash yelled over her shoulder as she raced across the desert. Away from the mountain base. Away from the Jungian Wastes...

...and as far away from the Scarlet Wake as she could get.

Weary is the Night

Maya's fingers worked their magic over his shoulders, slowing turning durasteel cables into muscles once more. Rigid, aching muscles.

"How many was that?" she asked gently, knowing that right now, even sound hurt him. Jeht had been caught in the blast of a powerful toxin this last time out. Normally he would have been able to counter it easily with his Jedi abilities but while "undercover", Darrus did not dare use his powers. There was at least one other force user in the Scarlet Wake and until they could be sure he was not a threat, Maya and Jeht had to assume the worst.

"Twelve." His answer was short and succinct, mostly because his teeth were gritted in pain. Maya's medical skills had halted the toxin but its lingering effects were still going strong. The poison was a intramuscular one; it attacked the muscles and soft tissues of the victim. Right now, he was in terrible agony.

She could feel it and it tore at her that she couldn't do more to help. Even bleeding off as much as possible through empathy, she knew he was still on the edge of mental collapse. She'd thought talking as if everything was fine would help take his mind off it. Now she was leaning towards silence. Perhaps quiet would help.

"No." His voice was strained and quiet, as always, but there was an intense focus to it right now. "Keep talking. It does help."

She sighed and rubbed his back, trying to open up his circulation again. The anti-venom was spiked with the most powerful painkillers she had on hand. If she could get it to work through his body, Darrus would be spared this ongoing torment. A few hours of drugged sleep and he'd be purged completely. "Sorry... I just don't know what to say."

"How about your thoughts," he groans and bit back the pain, "on our mysterious counterpart?"

She shrugged and moved farther down his body. "I don't know. He would have reported us by now if he was working for the Wake."

Darrus nodded as much as he could. "Suggesting?"

"Suggesting he's doing the same thing we are, working against this hate mongering cell in his own way. The drugs used on Vaaro and the girls were high-tech stuff but there's something odd about the delivery method."

If he could have, Darrus would have looked at her quizzically. As it was, his neck was barely functional enough to move at all. he settled for saying, "Go on."

"Well, the narcotic in question is isothorasednaprine alpha. It's a rare plant derivative from one of the Twi'lek worlds. You know, where all the good drugs come from." She was making a slight joke based on ryll, a terribly addictive chemical produced and distributed from Ryloth, the Twi'lek homeworld.

Darrus did not laugh. The dour Jedi never laughed. Darn him.

"Anyway, I-Alpha, as it's called, is best administered by means of a dermal scanner. That's a complex exodermal meson unit that breaks the chemical down on a molecular level and transmits it as energy waves into the patient's skin. It leaves no trace behind; it's a perfect item for someone looking to drug people and not make it look like they've been drugged."

Darrus managed a slight nod in understanding. "And this time?"

"This time, Vaaro and the girls were injected by means of a pressure gun. It works but it leaves a red welt on the skin that can last hours."

There was a groan from her patient as she finished his lower back. The anti-venom was starting to do its work. His voice was a touch calmer as he spoke next. "So what does that suggest to you?"

Maya sighed. "I really don't know. There's no reason for someone who knows about I-Alpha to use a pressure gun if he's looking for subtlety. The welts were well hidden but if I found them, authorities checking the scene probably would also."

She helped Darrus roll over onto his back and began the long process of massaging his tensed chest. The alien musculature of this seemingly human Jedi made any attempt at massage a complicated one. Layers of muscle and more than twice the normal number of tendons provided a biological labyrinth for her to navigate. In truth, she loved the challenge. She just wished he wasn't going to be in pain just she could find her way through it all.

He whispered through teeth locked in agony, "Are these scanners common?"

She shook her head. "No, but they almost always come with a shipment of I-Alpha. The only reason to use a pressure gun is if you didn't have one or didn't want to use one. They aren't reusable, after all. Once you activate a meson skin scanner, you have about an hour of battery life before the thing burns out."

"That's something." Another groan. "Maybe he doesn't have one left."

Maya considered that. "Maybe, but I get the feeling it's something else. I have a hunch there's a personal reason behind using the gun. Not sure what. I could 'go looking' if you want."

Darrus almost agreed, then cursed himself for letting the pain cloud his judgment. "No, better not. He's sensitive, just like us. Whoever this man is, he might detect your use of the Force. I don't want you risking yourself, especially not for an answer we don't really need."

The ex-Rebel doctor sighed and pushed her hands down his abdomen. He was sheet of solid, pained muscle from head to toe. "True enough. We have gone through a dozen missions for the Wake now and only encountered him once. He hasn't Jawa'ed us out yet so he's a curiosity but not a direct threat."

He was proud of her for that insight, adding quietly, "Not yet, anyway."

With the speed of a Tatooine land slug at high double noon, she eased the tension out of his stomach. After a long while of this, she asked, "What do you think our next job will be?"

"I think it will be against the Ithorians. I am not sure what..." Darrus bit back a slight scream. His renewed blood flow brought with it a fleeting - but terrible - wave of pain. He couldn't speak again until the analgesics kicked in. Once they did, his head spun and he had to struggle to stay focused. "...but it would make sense. Our last three missions have been against Ithorian residents and places of business."

Maya sighed. "Well, if they want us to hurt Hammerheads, they'd better hurry up about it. Most of them have already fled the planet and retreated to that big ship they've got in orbit now."

Darrus raised one eyebrow, a silent query since his jaws locked again.

She leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. "You should pay a little more attention to the local news, dear. The recent attacks against Ithorians have prompted them to call in one of their transports. Massive ship, too, from the sound of it. Looks like the Wake wins this round. As soon as it leaves orbit, it'll probably take all the Ithorians and anyone else looking for sanctuary with it."

Darrus nodded quietly and closed his eyes. He was in too much pain to think about this right. The hammerhead plant toxin had almost been the end of him. The Wake wouldn't need too much convincing right now to get him to hurt them a little more. He was dimly aware of thoughts like that being bad before sleep claimed him.

Maya curled in beside him, one arm draped across Darrus' chest. She didn't really care what the next assignment was as long as she was with him. For now, it was enough...

---------------

In a dark room one level down in the Scarlet Wake compound, a man was reviewing a holocam image. The glowing shape in front of him was of a curved sword, its point aimed directly forward. Wisps of energy were wrapped around the weapon's handle but the focus of the hologram was on the blade itself.

"I've seen this before, but how did you get a hold of it?" It was an apocryphal question; the answer did not really matter. Things were coming to a head in the Wake here on Tatooine and he no longer had time to worry about how a bounty hunter with a spotless, likely fame career record had come into possession of a dead Jedi's sword from halfway across the galaxy. He chalked it all up to grave robbing and set the matter aside for now.

The image vanished, replaced by a massive ovoid shape. Words appeared in the air beside the starship graphic, identifying it as the Shin'da'ruu. One of the largest vessels known, it was only dwarfed by a Super Star Destroyer or a true Imperial Dreadnought. The sheer scale of the Shin'da'ruu was hard to grasp but given that it was built to contain a percentage of a planet's entire population, more than three million sentients, the size made sense.

"A herd-ship."

The man was musing to himself now as he laid out his gear for the upcoming run. A well worn blaster, a complete - and completely battered - thinsuit, and implements that all looked like they'd been purchased at a used junk booth in Mos Eisley. They were old and nearly worn out but these things had something no newly bought techno-bits could ever claim - reliability.

His nightly ritual began. He opened everything that could be open, took apart everything that could be disassembled and cleaned every part that wouldn't dissolve in the process. He put each device back together with an expert hand. What his tools and gear lacked in looks they more than made up for in quality. They were rough on the outside but within, they were better than new.

A low chime from his slicer rig got his attention just as he'd finished putting his pistol back together. He rolled in his chair over to the computer and punched up what it had found. One of the best remote slicing setups in the galaxy, his system was a master at digging through encrypted files and pulling up useful data. For days now, he'd had it stealthing through the Wake's archives trying to get some handle on their goals here. Tatooine was a rock; there was no reason for a group this well financed and connected to concern itself with this sandball.

With narrowed eyes, he read through the partial file recovered by his slicing pad. It detailed a mission plan involving a 'hydra strike' against the Rebellion. He wasn't sure what that was but the rest of the file implied it to mean a multiple objective offensive designed to weaken the position of the Rebellion as the successors to the Republic.

This had Imperial involvement written all over it, from the language of the document to the tactics suggested. He ran through its many layers, looking for some reference to planets or targets. The file was so heavily encrypted it would have taken Beylan himself to decode the whole thing. As it was, all he had was a set of codenames and times.

The dates were sequential, each one a day apart. The codenames were linked to planets but his rig had only uncovered the one attached to Tatooine. It would need several hours to get any of the others.

The man noted the time on the Tatooine offensive as being three hours from the current time. That didn't leave much time for calculations. With only sketching details, he hoped the codename would offer some clue to the Wake's plan. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach even as he pulled up the mission name.

As soon as he saw it, his blood ran cold.

Operation: Planetfall

Reporting For Duty

It was dawn. From the rippling in the air over the dense stone bunker, the day was liable to be a hot one even by Tatooine standards.

All the ships were in and the hanger doors, left open all night for ventilation, were closing to keep the rising temperature outside where it belonged - outside. On a planet where exposure could be lethal and air recycling meant the difference between a fortified underground installation and a half-kilometer deep oven/tomb, every precaution was taken. All sentries came inside and the outer doors to the landing bay were closed fifteen minutes after sunrise.

For people caught outside, there was only one hope. Shade and a full canteen could keep a human alive until after noon when the temperature started to drop again. Could.

This particular morning there was movement outside the closed compound, but it wasn't human. A small black plated droid, spherical and hovering on a silent repulsorlift, drifted up out of the main building's exchanger vent. It quietly drifted to a nearby uplink aerial and extended its patch cable. Within moments, the droid was connected to the Scarlet Wake's transmission relay, sending a coded message on the back of already broadcasting data.

The method of communication was untraceable because the link was a physical one and it originated after the legitimate signal was sent. There were no computers to intercept the additional signal and no power drain to detect because the antenna array was in use during its beaming.

Half a parsec away, a small repeater satellite used for years by smugglers and slicers for "contraband data" received the message. In the data stream, there was a navigation code for where it needed to be sent. The satellite turned and followed its orders. The signal entered the backbone of the holonet as one of millions of information packets, as undetectable and unremarkable as anything else in the network.

The message it carried was anything but unremarkable when it reached its destination. A small screen on a large desk in a spacious building began to glow, its small warning chime calling the intended recipient to give it the attention it was due. As soon as the room was clear, a gloved hand pressed a glowing button on the screen and an audio file began to play.

"It has been some time since my last communication. The Tatooine sect is getting more active and asking more of its ranking members. Maintaining my cover without taking lives is becoming problematic. The leaders of this Wake chapter are more violent in their intentions than the ones on Corellia. Lately, that tendency has become a certainty. Outings now always end in some kind of violence."

The dark gloved hand pressed flat on the desk, fingers moving nervously. Whoever the listener was, this news was obviously distressing.

"I suspect your concerns are coming to pass. My infiltration has gone well to date and some of my suspicions have been borne out. There is a single figurehead at the top level of the Scarlet Wake. These cells are planetary based and all have a leadership post and a hierarchy beneath them. The leader of each cell seems to hold the same rank, disturbingly called 'Red Two'."

At that, the gloved hand clenched into a fist. The reference was not lost on the listener.

"This fits with data I obtained from a deep slice into the Tatooine network. The overall guidance of the Wake comes from the figurehead I mentioned and he or she goes by the sobriquet 'Red One'. I am not sure why they are using standard Rebel flight nomenclature but it seems to be their organizational style at every level. I have seen Red Threes and Red Fours here on Tatooine and as you may recall, I had to dispose of an agent on Corellia calling himself Five. If we assume that was short for Red Five, there is a definite pattern emerging."

The listener's other hand was on the desk now, a long white control wand in its grasp. Tapping its length into the other palm, the gesture seemed to be a repetitive, nervous gesture. The more the listener heard, the faster the wand was moving.

"I would have held this report back but something has come up requiring an immediate drop. My last report mentioned the possibility of some major offensive being planned within the Scarlet Wake. I am still investigating those rumors but have little to offer except my suspicions that such a move is going to occur very soon. I have nothing solid to base that on; it is just a personal hunch. Take that as you will."

The wand stopped, gripped tightly with both hands.

"I am sending this report three days early because of a pair of new recruits to the Tatooine chapter. One male, one female. The male checks out as a bounty hunter with the codename Wraith. His file is a little too complete. I suspect it's a well-managed fake. The other has no direct file but she seems pretty devoted to her partner. I have only seen that kind of physical loyalty in expensive bodyguard bio-units. She may be a droid. I'll look into it."

The gloved hands had set the wand down now, its larger, flanged end glowing from where a single button had been pressed. Another screen became active at that time, showing images of both Wraith and Echo.

"I encountered Wraith as opposition on my last run for the Scarlet Wake. I do not know his motivations but he attempted to bring me down as I left the scene. There was an altercation and before I could deal with him, I was driven off by an unusual form of electromagnetic defense. My cover may be compromised but I believe otherwise."

There was hesitation in the speaker's voice in his next few words.

"I... I believe I recognized a personal possession carried by this Wraith. It is unlikely that he has legitimate possession of the weapon. It is most likely the spoils of graverobbing. In any case, I have a lot of questions to answer about Wraith and his female companion. With your permission, I would like you to analyze the data appended to this report. I will not move against these two or attempt contact until you reply."

The transmission ended as it always did, with a time and place for a signal to be return beamed. The hands steepled, fingers pressed tightly into each other as the listener brought them under his chin in contemplation.

The bloody Empire had only been defeated a few months ago and already the "New Republic" was trying to burst at the seems from alien attacks, reports of some remaining Imperial loyalists gather support on rim worlds, and missing Rebel heroes heading off into the darkness of space on mysterious missions to no one-knows-where.

This was just the sort of additional stress he could live without. General Crix Madine stood up, fetched his control wand, and started pacing. It was bad enough his intelligence networks were so damned overworked that he had to use independents, even if they were reliable ones like Narr. Now he was effectively deaf and blind to a covert organization several planets wide with an agenda that could very well run counter to everything the Rebellion had worked so hard to build.

It was days like this he thanked the Maker for coffeene. In fact, his first order was business was to brew a fresh pot right now...

Crossed Swords

They were speeding across the dunes as fast as the ARC-170 would go. It was late, still a few hours from dawn, but there was no time to waste. Jeht's pulse was racing but he wasn't the reason for this haste, nor was Maya. This wasn't about either of them; they were acting on someone else's behalf now, assuming they could reach him in time.

This was about Vaaro.

Behind him, Jeht heard Maya's worried voice. "I knew I should have insisted he stay in the desert. Damn it."

He flipped his comm switch. "Do not give in to doubt and guilt. Remember what I have been teaching you. This is not your fault. It isn't Vaaro's fault. The blame, not that blame matters, lies firmly with the Scarlet Wake."

There was silence for a few seconds, then, "Can this thing go any faster?"

Darrus would have smiled in amusement if it was his habit to be amused. As it was, he gave her a technical answer by way of light mirth. "Not unless you want me to activate the hyperdrive and tear our a square kilometer of this planet's atmosphere as we hurtle towards that moon in the distance at instantly fatal speed."

Maya snorted behind him. "That would be no, then."

Four minutes later, they screamed over the outskirts of Mos Espa and touched down. Maya, "Echo" since she was wearing her combat outfit, was already running by the time Jeht shut down the engines and pulled on his new helmet. That completed his persona, "Wraith", and he climbed out of the fighter. She would need support, though not as much as he would have first thought. She was tougher by far than he's first believed, tougher than even she knew.

Still, enough blasters were enough to take down any one and he suspected she was running towards a pretty large group of them. They'd learned from slicing into the Wake's Tatooine computer network of the hate organization's current targets. As soon as the words "Transverse Tavern" came up on the screen, Maya's been in motion.

Thus the late night flight across the desert. Maya's bar was in danger. Her friends were in danger. The screen hadn't shown the Transverse as a sabotage or vandalism mission. Tonight's mission was in a different file.

The one marked "Eradication".

They reached the back door of the Transverse Tavern together, despite Maya's considerable head start. The metal portal was open, a small electronic codebreaker attached to its lock. The Wake thugs were already inside, assuming they weren't already gone. Jeht looked at Maya, panic awash over her face.

"Control your fear. Do not let yourself feel hate."

She nodded, knowing he was right. She calmed herself as best she could. It was enough. They did not have time for more.

Then they were through the door and heading past the kitchen shelves. The back room was a total shambles; the Wake might not have been here for vandalism but they were doing a good job of it regardless. Jeht could see that, to keep herself calm, Maya was focusing on adding up the cost of repairing all this damage. It amused him but now wasn't the time to tell her so.

They encountered the first Waker at the door of the kitchen. He did not see them; they saw him. Maya and Jeht both knew that if they were going to keep infiltrating the Scarlet Wake, no one here could see them and live to tell the tale. The ramifications of what would happen when the Scarlet Wake failed to kill everyone here would have to be dealt with later. Sometimes, you just had to save your friends and pick up the pieces later.

Jeht paused, his hand on the wrapped hilt of his blade. He'd taken an oath not to kill again, one he took seriously. He knew he would someday have to break that oath. His life wasn't one that promoted pacifism, after all, but could he really set aside his aversion to killing so soon. Could he really...?

Before he could even finished the thought, Maya slipped up behind the Waker, grabbed his mouth to silence any screams, and drove the blade of her vibroknife through his spine right between his shoulderblades. The man was dead in an instant, slumping into her arms to be dragged out of the doorway. Maya pulled him into the meat locker, closed the cold door, and gave Darrus an emotionless look. "You coming?"

He nodded sharply and stepped into her shadow. He was unwilling to slay just yet, so she was handling that for him. Somehow, it didn't make him feel any better. He was still a killer, but now it was by proxy. He appreciated her devotion, but was this really any better?

There were two more in the main room of the tavern itself. One was standing behind the polished wood bar; the other was crouched in the stairwell, obviously acting as lookout. That was a good sign. It meant the assassins upstairs were not done yet. There was still a chance to save someone.

They would have to work together. Maya's sympathetic rapport for Jeht's mind served them in good stead. He did not have to tell her to go for the one at the bar; she just dropped low and used the room's clutter for cover as she crawled that way. Jeht let her get close before moving. There would be no chance for subtlety; this was a situation that demanded speed.

Speed he could handle. Touching the Force, he moved with the haste of a diving raptor. Before the lookout could move, Jeht was across the room and on him. Moving like his namesake, he was a shadow, a spectre. The Waker had just enough time to breathe in before a Jedi's knee drove into his throat. There would be no cry of alarm, nor any other sound either. The lookout was unconscious before Jeht landed on his feet.

He knew Maya would be all right; there were others to worry about right now. Halfway up the stairs, Jeht's senses screamed for him to dodge. There was no hesitation; he simply did as the Force willed. Against the wall in less than a second, Jeht narrowly avoided a thick metal shell hurtling through the air on a plume of flame.

The missile flew through the space where he was and impacted the base of the stairwell. It exploded, tearing the unconscious thug apart and blasting out the wall of the tavern. Smoke poured out and the night poured in. The Scarlet Wake's mission was no longer viable. A quiet slaughter was no longer an option. From the "dammit" Darrus heard in the shadows above him, the Waker with the launcher had figured that out as well.

"Feh! Let's go!" Jeht heard him hiss angrily. That meant there was more than one thug up there. He pivoted low and ran up the stairs with inhuman speed. The man with the rocket gun was already clearing out of the hall but he could not move fast enough to avoid what was coming. Jeht's blade cleared its scabbard with an aria of violence, slashing through the air and cleaving the metal of the Waker's heavy weapon. The barrel fell impotently away from its wooden stock, ruined and smoking.

The Waker turned and reacted with a predictable but effective attack, striking where Jeht had been with the sundered handle of his launcher. Jeht wasn't there any longer, moving to the side faster than the man's eyes could track. Reversing his sword's blade, Jeht smashed the Waker with the blunt end of its grip. The sound of his splintering nose was loud enough to be heard over the hypnotic hum of songsteel.

Sputtering blood, the man dropped to his knees. Darrus Jeht would have let the man go but most launchers had night vision scopes. Unsure what the Waker had seen before firing his rocket, Jeht couldn't risk him reporting back home. Thus, he'd have to be silenced. Regrettable, but there was no other option.

Before he could decide how to quiet the man, there was another danger. At the end of the upstairs hall, there was a black-clad figure slipping out an open window. Darrus pulled his blaster pistol and snapped off a quick shot. The stun bolt lit the darkness down the hall, slamming into the resistant padding of the man's thinsuit. The jacket was dense enough to ward off the majority of the blast's effect, only slowing him as he fell past the window sill and into the street outside.

No time to waste. Darrus was past the downed thug and out the window a moment later, dropping to the road in a heavy, Force-assisted crouch. His legs were charged with power, absorbing the impact of his landing like coiled durasteel springs.

In the next second, that power proved to be useless as he had to leap into the air to avoid a lance of blue light. The escaping figure had a blaster of his own, using it as he ran to send stun bolts of his own. Darrus avoided them, dancing aside as he raced in pursuit. By the time the running Waker reached a parked speeder bike and leaped into its seat, Jeht was almost on him.

The roar of a repulsor engine stopped Darrus short, the force of its exhaust throwing him several meters backwards. He ducked and rolled to avoid injury but the damage was already done to his chase. The figure was getting away at high speed, quickly becoming a fleeting shape, ever smaller, on the dark horizon. In another few seconds, he would be gone for good. Jeht could not allow that to happen.

He tilted his shoulder, letting the heavy rifle slung across his back fall free into his hands. It was a difficult shot, nearly impossible for any normal marksman. What Darrus lacked in honed skill with the weapon, he made up for training of another kind. There would be a moment when his gun would be aimed precisely right, when he would hit if he fired. He let that moment to come to him and when it did, when the Force said shoot, he shot.

A beam of violent violet split the shadows of the night, leaping from his rifle to the back of the hurtling bike. Even now he could not bring himself to kill; the shot was meant for the speeder and that's where it landed. Metal and ceramic ablated under the beam's inexorable assault. There was a plume of smoke and the rider leaped free just before the vehicle exploded.

In all likelihood, the thug was dead. Darrus knew that and he regretted the necessity. Even so, he had to be sure. Reslinging the rifle, he drew his sword and ran towards the flaming debris and the still, silent body of his quarry. He was close enough to the figure to make out the lines on his combat thinsuit when there was a sudden motion beneath it. Somehow, the rider was both still alive and active enough to defend himself.

Darrus had just enough warning to try and leap clear before an entire belt of stun grenades, their pins all pulled, went off in his face. He tumbled and fell, ionic energies wracking his body, muscles firing and pulsing out of control. By the time he hit the ground, Jeht could barely move other than to writhe in unwilling agony.

The rider stood up painfully, obviously injured by his crash. Blaster pistol still clutched in one bleeding hand, the masked rider flipped its switch from stun to kill, cycling the blaster's gasses through its deadlier lasing chamber. Step by limping, aching step, he closed the distance between them.

"I'm sorry but I can't... uhhnn... I can't let you jeopardize my mission. There's too much at stake here." He stopped just out of arm's reach, an unnecessary precaution given Jeht's utter inability to control his body. "I am in too deep with the Wake to lose it all now. I won't let you stop me from taking them down." And with that, he brought the blaster down to point at Jeht's forehead. A mercy shot.

Darrus would have appreciated the gesture but he was determined to make his own kind of mercy. He couldn't move his body but the Force was another matter. A meter away, he could feel the familiar echoes of his songsteel sword. He closed his eyes and reached out with his mind, gathering the weapon in the tendrils of a sudden, raging storm.

As the rider tensed his finger on his blaster's trigger, a blur raced between him and victim. His pistol fell from his hand, cut nearly in half by a flying blade. The curved sword lifted into the air, wielded by lines of rippling electricity and surrounded by sheering, whirling winds. It rushed into the space between the rider and Jeht, warding its prone master with its deadly, howling edge.

The man stepped backwards, body tensed as he looked at the weapon, studying it carefully. His eyes widened suddenly and he turned to run, heading into the dunes as quickly as his feet could move. Darrus had not yet recovered from the stun flash and though his powers could wield his sword quick skillfully in his defense, there was a limit to his range. Too pained and shaken to pursue, he resigned himself to the strange man's escape. It couldn't be helped.

By the time he regained feeling in his limbs and could stand, Jeht heard the roar of a speeder coming closer. It was Maya, likely driving something stolen, and she wasn't alone. Piled in the back of the vehicle, she had all of her people from the tavern including a very unconscious, drooling Rodian. NOT a pretty sight.

"Darrus!" she called out, leaping out of the speeder and rushing to his side as soon as she'd stopped. The flickers of lightning around his sword were fading as it drifted to his own hand. He sheathed it and leaned into her supportive arms. "Are you all right?!?"

He nodded. "I will live. How about them?"

Maya looked relieved, then bewildered as she pointed at Vaaro. "He's been drugged. They all have. Not killed, but comatose. They looked dead, but they weren't. Someone went out of their way not to kill them."

It took a moment, but then everything made sense to him. Jeht touched her face affectionately and let her help him to the speeder. "I think we have an ally in the Scarlet Wake, not that he knows it yet." In response to her quizzical look, he continued, "I do not know who he is, but the one I chased down is working against them too."

Maya jumped into the driver's seat and swung the vehicle around. "So we crashed someone else's party?"

He sighed. "Looks that way, yes. We need to get the girls and Vaaro to a safehouse and then head back before we are missed. I do not think we have much time."

His partner looked determined as she expertly whipped the speeder through the streets of Mos Espa. "Not to worry. I was planning on doing this eventually anyway. I've got a friend who owes me a ton of credits. I'll take her putting these three up instead. She should be thrilled at the exchange rate."

Darrus nodded but in truth, his mind was a million parsecs away, pondering the events of the night. Who was the man in the thinsuit? Who was he working for? And would he be an ally...

Or just a different kind of enemy?

The Eye of Malice

He stood in the doorway of the cantina, looking out over the scene of his own handiwork. The tables all lay in ruins, shattered bottles were strewn across the floor, and the symbol of the Scarlet Wake was fused into the walls by the laser cutter on his belt. The bar, run by a pair of Grann recently moved to Tatooine, was a complete loss - the point of tonight's exercise.

Inwardly, he was both disgusted at what he had done here but he did see the blessing in disguise; no one had been injured. This mission was a message. "Aliens, get out."

The proprietors of the bar were upstairs, stunned unconscious by Maya and left in the shambles of their own sleeping chamber. By the time they woke up, Darrus and his partner would be long gone. Their efforts here would linger, though. This place was one of the most popular establishments in Anchorhead, catering to more than four hundred non-humans and spacers on average each day.

Tightening his grip on his rifle, watchful for trouble while Maya finished her vandalism upstairs, Darrus could not help but acknowledge the tactical skill this particular choice of targets suggested. The Scarlet Wake was more than a hate group; this was psychological warfare. Each body, each wrecked home, each terrified alien was one piece in a greater plan.

Figuring out that plan was his real mission, of course, but after two weeks "on the inside" he was no closer to the power behind the organization. Red One was still a complete mystery and his proxies were either too cordial and aloof to question or too violent and ignorant to be of much use. Performing these acts of terrorism were the only way he could see to ingratiate himself into the Wake and work his way up the command ladder. One rung at a time seemed the best possible course of action.

In truth, it seemed like the only course.

Maya agreed. Both his partner and his only confidant, she had proven an invaluable asset to the mission. Calm and capable, willing to do anything for him, and never questioning his decisions, she had even taken his apparent execution of that Ithorian in stride. It had relieved her when he told her the victim was still very much alive but she had not asked or treated him differently beforehand. If something difficult needed to be done, she was his unflinching right hand.

It had been so long since he had been in the position of having someone at his back he could trust. Even during the war, he had never fully believed in the "docile" nature of his Clone Soldiers. Perhaps that was why he was still alive, but he knew the real reason all too well. His connection to Aayla, his feeling her death, had been a warning exactly when he needed one.

Jeht could still close his eyes and see the look on Marr-ek's face when he evaded the bastard's death trap and chopped his own men to pieces. He could hear the panic in Marr-ek's voice when, lightsaber in hand, he forced the traitorous ARC trooper to surrender.

And, with a twist of guilt in his gut, he could still smell the charred flesh as he drove his weapon into Marr-ek's face. A plasteel garbage pod had been Marr-ek's tomb, flushed into space along with the pieces of his sundered squad. Darrus felt guilt over his former friend's execution, but not much. The man had killed Trill; he deserved nothing better. Hells and Fire, he had deserved far worse.

Darrus caught himself in that thought and forced his mind to let go of such hate. It was not just a feeling unbecoming of a Jedi, it was a distraction he could not afford right now. If he was lost in the past, he could easily be surprised bu something in the present.

As if reading his mind, "Echo" did just that. Snaking a hand over his shoulder and startling him into nearly checking her against the wall, Maya brought him back to the here and now. "It's done. There's not enough left intact upstairs to buy a used speeder and two Grann are sleeping off one mother of a headache."

He nodded and gestured for her to stand by the exit while he checked outside. It was nearly first light; the smaller of Tatooine's two suns was almost at the eastern horizon. There was a line of false dawn about to give way to the real thing. There were cutting their mission parameters close but they had finished within the time given. In the end, that was all it took to earn their paycheck.

Wraith and Echo made their way to the Starwing and climbed in quickly. They had landed far enough out that the ARC-170's huge engines would not alert their quarry. That had been a fine plan until Darrus remembered his craft no longer having a speeder. The walk, and Maya's constant "We could have been done by now" stare at the back of his head had both been unpleasant.

Still, it was better than murder.

Murder was on Darrus' mind a lot lately. The missions they were running for the Scarlet Wake had not involved killing anyone, but that could change at any moment. He knew there were people in the Tatooine chapter capable of doing far worse and more than willing. He suspected that others were handling removal missions while Echo and he were doing these less fatal tasks.

That both relieved and worried him at the same time. Why would the Scarlet Wake make him kill an alien just to get in and then not even ask him to rough one up? Were they saving his talents for something bigger? Were the leaders of the Wake suspicious?

No, he decided. If they were suspicious of his motives, an assassination or assault would be the first thing they would want from him. If that were true, however, why was he stuck doing jobs any handful of moisture farmers could handle? Why use a capable killer to vandalize a bar or plant explosives on a food transport?

Looking at this from a logistical viewpoint, it made no sense. He had never been one for self-aggrandizement but he knew what he was good at doing. Darrus had always been an instrument of violence, even in the Academy on Coruscant. As a youngling, he had been in more fistfights and force battles than any student his age in the history of the Council. he was firmly convinced that, had it not been for Master Windu's patronage, he would have been expelled from training long before becoming a padawan.

Thinking about Mace was always painful, especially now. His mentor, the closest thing he had ever known to a father, was dead. Everyone he knew on Coruscant, dead. His entire Order, dead. There might still be a few friends back on Cularin, but they were in a safe place now and he would never jeopardize their well-being by disturbing the Sanctum there.

That left Maya. She was really his only lifeline now. Without her, he would truly be alone. He wondered if she knew how grateful he was for her company. He considered telling her, but his skill with a lightsaber was inversely proportional to his skill with words. Likely, he would just sound silly or offend her accidentally. He had no desire to do either. Somehow, someway, he would let her know when the time was right.

"Hey, dark eyes. You all right up there?"

Darrus blinked behind his shadow glass visor. He had been distracted again. That was happening a lot lately. Too many thoughts, not enough attention to what was happening around him. If Yoda were still alive, the little green taskmaster would be smacking him in the skull with a cane right now.

"Sorry. I was just... considering the jobs we have been given. Don't they seem odd to you?"

Maya scoffed in the gunner's seat behind him. "Odd? We had scattered burning protein bars over southern Mos Eisley, robbed an alien money collector and vaporized the funds in a refinery incinerator, sabotaged a Devoranean transport, stolen a Bith band's instruments, and royally wrecked a cantina in Anchorhead. All without ever being seen aside from that stupid Scarlet symbol we keep blasting into things. Odd? You could say that."

Darrus agreed quietly. "Exactly. Strange work, and no common theme aside from terrorism." Then his own tactical skills caught his attention and showed him the element in every job he had missed before. "Wait..."

Maya's voice took on a note of concern, something he would normally have found endearing if he had not been so preoccupied. "What is it, Darrus?"

"There is a denominator in common, Maya." He had been thinking about these jobs all wrong, looking at them through the vantage point of a hatemonger. Hate was too imprecise to describe the rationale behind the Scarlet Wake. He needed to use something more focused to understand what was really going on here. This was not hate; it was something colder. More malevolent. It was pure, rational, unyielding malice.

Darrus continued once the realization came to him. "Every mission has had one thing the same in every case. Each time, we've been asked to do our work without being seen. We have already proven ourselves capable of violence. I think they are testing our subterfuge."

Maya considered that for a while before answering. "Okay, but if that's true, to what end? People don't normally test something without a reason. What do they intend for us to do that involves both violence and stealth?"

Darrus shook his head. "I don't know, Maya. That's what worries me."

-----------------------

It was a secure transmission; Gannarsen Kayvus could talk freely now.

"I've just received word, sir. The cantina went flawlessly, just as I predicted. In my estimation, they are ready. These two new recruits are perfect for the job."

The voice that answered him was both somber and dark, nearly emotionless yet edged with intense hostility. "Are you sure? I dislike trusting something this important to agents so new to the Wake. If this fails..."

Red Two bowed to the holographic bust of his master. "It won't. I assure you, our message will be sent out loud and clear. By this time tomorrow, everyone in the galaxy will know about the Scarlet Wake."

Gannarsen's superior, his face hidden by a full helmet and his shoulders concealed under a thick cloak, intoned pointedly. "Do not fail me in this. The Order has no room for failure."

Without hesitation, Gannar nodded his agreement. "It won't need any. I won't fail and neither will they. I will comm you again when the deed is done." He saluted the holo-image by clapping his hand to his chest, palm against his shirt and ring prominently displayed. "Humans first."

Red One returned the gesture, ending the transmission with the answering line of the pledge.

"Humans only."