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[Darth Furion]

He speaks of faith. Spoke the Sith Master, smile growing larger and larger as Ason spoke on. In so many words, Ason exemplified perfectly the core behind Emily's confusion.

 

Faith fills in the holes of doubt, that uncertainty no one can disillusion you from. Faith is what sustains you when it seems the very will of the Force is going against you. Our brother is right in saying that we have no empirical evidence as to why our path is correct. Trillions will tell you to your face you are wrong, but offer no better explanation as to why beyond the same rhetoric they've been taught.

 

His smile dissipated a little as he leaned toward Emily. But who are they to tell me I'm wrong? Where is their certainty? Why is their faith and conviction better than my own? Why should I kowtow to any other soul in this galaxy?

 

I walk with certainty because of my faith. I believe with every ounce of my being that this path is right for me, and there isn't a soul in this verse that can tell me otherwise.

[Ason Antilles]

"And at that, a reasonable faith as opposed to a blind-one. One that bears evidence, and evidence must suffice since absolute proof is unattainable."

 

"That is why I am uncomfortable with your statement, Brother, that we have no empirical evidence to support us. Rather, WE, in so much as we are the conclusion, are the empirical evidence for our case. We need not prove it outright, for such a task is technically impossible, but we might submit our happiness as evidence for it.”

[Gonzo Lockjaw]

As Lockjaw sat upon the dead remains of the wookie jedi inside the former medical shuttle, he was trying to focus his mind on the dark side of the force, he heard his master's words about using emotion to gain access to the force and that his were greed and gluttony. But what impacted Lockjaw the most was the apparent weakness that his master saw by using anger to channel the force. If Lockjaw wished to name for himself among the ranks of the Sith Order he would need something other than just anger to open the doorway to the force. His master, the great Sheog, had based his connection to the force on two of the cardinal sins, perhaps he should do the same, but greed and gluttony didn't fit Lockjaw's style or personality, but maybe one of the others would provide him with the focus that he needed.

 

If Lockjaw remembered correctly the cardinal sins were, wrath, greed, sloth, pride, lust, envy, and gluttony. As greed and gluttony were out, that left Lockjaw with wrath, sloth, pride, lust, and envy. Sloth and envy didn't really agree with Lockjaw either so that left him with wrath, pride, and lust to open up the doorway to force. Lockjaw first dipped his mind into the depths of wrath, as it would be the foundation for his connection to the dark side. Wrath poured into the depths of Lockjaw's being, filling him up with anger, hatred, and malice, all of this Lockjaw focused on what good he could think of sunshine, daises, rainbows, freedom, justice, and the Jedi. Lockjaw desired to bring about the utter ruin of all of these and plunge the galaxy into an age of darkness and despair. But this was not all that he desired, Lockjaw desired greatness, to rise above that of an ordinary Sith. These desires he added to the already swelling amounts of wrath and anger within and continued to brew over these emotions before his master.

[Darth Furion]

As if he remembered something important, he checked his chrono with a quick flick of his wrist and quickly sat upright.

 

We better get going. He said softly as he punched in new hyperspace coordinates. Blue lines blurred by them, and after a few hours they'd soon find themselves at the threshold of Talus.

 

((Next one of you to post come out of hyperspace above Talus. I'll take the entry.))

[Emily]

The two Sith began to debate some of the finer points of view that they shared, and Emily listened, though with less interest. There was definite merit to discussing worldviews, but there was a point when the philosophy began to go around and around in circles of rhetoric. Emily got the feeling that this conversation had reached that point.

 

So she stared at the starlines of hyperspace, listening with half an ear to the men talk, until they came out of hyperspace and she beheld the beautiful twin worlds of Talus and Tralus, both members of the five shining gems that made up the Corellian systems' Five Brothers. She had never visited here before, and the sight of so many beautiful planets in one system was breathtaking. She looked forward to stepping foot down on whichever planet in the system was their destination, and being once more under an alien sky.

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

As the Justice began her journey though hyperspace, Mirdala paused for a moment, reflecting on Fett's wisdom. She knew that not every fight would be hers to win, but she'd be damned if she'd make it easy for them, and with Fett as a traat'allit'ad the latter was more than guaranteed, if not impossible.

 

"You're right. I certainly couldn't ask for anyone better to hukaat'kama, and besides I can't let you off that easy. That was twice today you saved my life!" She gave a short laugh, pity wasn't the way of the Mando'ade, only forging through pain and crises like the gauntlet that she'd been forced through today. Only the dead didn't learn from defeat, something she remembered her buir saying often.

 

Seeing her buire in the vision together and happy after so many years apart only really served to remind Mirdala of what she'd lost, and the one that she'd seen and was missing the most, her riduur, Tracyn.

 

She stripped off her blood-stained kom'rk and gloves to make sure that she'd removed the last of the glass from her head. She still felt so tired, but with the scan revealing a concussion she wasn't about to get another earful from Tracyn no matter how badly she wished to see him again. She folded her hands in her lap, still holding the pieces of her beskar'gam and let her sadness take her for a moment.

 

"When I was out, I had some kind of vision." She stopped, unsure of why it was she was choosing to share this with him. It almost had to be the pain talking, but she continued anyway. It had been nearly a year since her riduur had been murdered and the last time she'd broached the subject with herself it had been anger that had consumed her, both for the injustice in his death as well as for him leaving her alone. Since meeting up with Fett, she hadn't really allowed herself to greive, throwing herself headlong into her work with CORESEC, keeping the pain and sadness at a comfortable distance. She looked up at his brown eyes, apologetically, still unsure why he was the one that she'd chosen to finally talk to about Tracyn's death.

 

Then it struck her, she found, to her surprise, that she trusted him implicitly, having already shared her deepest secret with him, one that she'd not even told Tracyn. Other than Tracyn and Joreel, she'd never allowed anyone to get that close to her. Perhaps it was because of this trust that she'd somehow known that he was going to be there, to end the fight that she could not.

 

Before continuing she laid back down on the bunk, beginning to feel a little light-headed, and even more sleepy, but talking with Fett would help keep her focused and help her combat the sleep that loomed in the corner, ready to take her should she falter. Her pale jade eyes met his and she continued.

 

"Tracyn was there," her voice was strong and her face calm, but she could feel the swirl of emotions growing inside her, but she held fast to her carefully practiced control like a life-raft. She would talk with Fett, but she refused to let him see her tears. "As well as Joreel and ni buire, it was almost like I was in the in-between."

 

"I wanted to stay, to be with them, with Tracyn, but I'd made a promise to you to cuyani and I don't break my promises. That and Tracyn and Joreel threatened to drag me back if they had to, they said that I had a duty to the galaxy." She took a deep breath and winced slightly, no longer caring about keeping up the strong front that she'd showed to her traat'allit, Fett had already seen her near her worst. "I think that my duty is to CORESEC and to help ensure that the GA survives," she reflected aloud before turning the subject.

 

"It's funny how it's been nearly a year and this is the first time I've really let go of the anger I've felt for his death, the first time that I've allowed myself to be sad about it." She paused and would have blushed, but the color still hadn't returned to her pallid features yet as the bacta had only just begun its work. "I'm sorry to go on like this, it's just that I know that I can trust you, as much as I've ever trusted Tracyn. I somehow knew even has he struck that things would work themselves out and that I would be okay. We balance each other well, I am lucky to have you for a traat'aliit'ad."

 

She reached her hand back as she tried to pick the last of the glass out of her hair, using her fingers to check for any lingering pieces. Her hands came away bloodied and her head throbbed once more. "How is it that the wound is still so fresh and easily reopened after so long?" she laid her head back down and looked up at the dull grey bulkhead, fighting back her tears.

 

Part of her wondered if the man before her had ever lost anyone in the same manner. Fett wasn't someone that she'd ever pictured of having let anyone too close. Honestly, she almost wondered what she'd done to have earned this level of trust to begin with as she knew that she was probably the only other person in the galaxy that was still alive after seeing the face that was behind the buy'ce. They'd definitely started off almost on the wrong foot when they'd joined the Augury together and the confusion had been over her chosen alias. What event had changed things between them? Had it even been one?

 

She felt herself begin to get drowsy again so she carefully sat up, though as the adrenaline was wearing off the action was a bit more painful this time. The woman refocused her gaze on Fett and tried to read him.

[Moon Knight]

As he always did, ShadowFett sat and listened quietly, holding her gaze when she met his eyes and giving her the occasional nod to keep her going and let her know that he was paying attention. There was a lot of emotion emanating from her, and her struggle filled her voice. She seemed apologetic, to lay out her burdens in front of him, even though he was willing to listen. It was somewhat strange for him, though. To every other person in the galaxy, he was the heartless ori'ramikad that took lives by the dozen, lived for battle, and never showed a speck of emotion through it all because his face was hidden behind his buy'ce, the mask of a long lineage of powerful verde. But to her, he was someone that could be trusted with secrets, before whom she could make herself vulnerable without that vulnerability being exploited.

 

And he supposed he was both of those things. But because no one had viewed him as such before--indeed it was a role he had never filled before--he wasn't sure what to say. The Mando'ad pressed forward anyway. "Old wounds will always leave a haastal," he said, the Mando'a word being much more appropriate than 'scar'. "That is as important as losing battles, and for the same reasons."

 

He was still trying to parse everything she'd said, read the subtext. She trusted him implicitly, as much as she had her riduur. Her promise to him had given her the strength to fight back death; that and her sense of duty. It would help if he could relate to her a bit more--the man he'd once trusted had died, but it had been by Fett's hands, in vengeance for betrayal.

 

For the first time in a very long time, Fett opened himself up a little, allowed himself to empathize, even feel her pain, one of the things to which he had long closed himself off. A second or two passed, and the brief silence threatened to become awkward. Hardly typical for a man of so few words, he tried to fill it. "I may not be Tracyn, Mird'ika," he said, his voice unusually gentle. "But for both our sake, I can try to be what you need so that you can emerge from this stronger."

 

He held her gaze. He wasn't sure if she was going to tell him what that was right now, or if it would become just an open offer for the future. It didn't matter, because the offer was open. But at this point, it could be anything; he did not think he could deny her. For one moment, Fett was open. Though he was still wearing his entire beskar'gam except for his buy'ce and kom'rke, he felt like putty. In some ways, it was uncomfortable. In other ways, it was cathartic. For now, he hung basically paralyzed, waiting for something to bring him back.

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

It was interesting to see this side of him, and in a way she felt honored that she was able to see it. She knew that the side he showed the galaxy was in place for a reason and served it purpose well. The gentleness in his voice was something that she didn't think anyone still-living had ever heard, and his offer was something that told her that the trust was returned. Though, even she wasn't sure what it was she needed him to be right now, and her shrug told him as much as she vocalized, "I'm not sure what it is that I need now other than some rest and a sanisteam." A small smile crossed her face.

 

"I do think that I should pursue this Force thing though, and I know that I can count on you to keep me from forgetting who I am. The very concept of surrendering control to some unseen entity, no matter how beneficial it might be, rails against everything that we are ever taught. I think that this is why I've denied that part of me for so long." Carefully she slid from the bunk, somehow managing to keep her footing when her legs tried to buckle. She steadied herself for a few moments before crossing the room, pausing for a moment to rest her hand on his shoulder. "I'll be fine, given some time and training."

 

Her movements were slow, but sure, as she went down the corridor to her bunk, though she did keep close to the wall for balance and purposefully left him access to her bio monitor so that he'd be alerted if anything did happen while she was alone.

 

She keyed the lock to her room and immediately steadied herself at her workstation as she kicked off her boots and socks. She crossed the room to her bunk where she removed the rest of her uniform carefully before entering the refresher.

 

The hot water felt good as she bent her head back, and she found herself considering what Fett could have meant by his offer as the bits of dried blood commingled with what had dried on the rest of her skin. She'd been careful to only wet her head, not yet wanting to get the bandages damp.

 

Looking inward, she found that she had a yet-unidentified emotion that was tearing at her, guilt maybe? Was she and would she truely ever be over the death of Tracyn? What had caused her to entrust Fett with her deepest secret, bonding them together, and what had caused him to trust her in return? She respected him as both verd and vod, she admired his sense of honor and justice. Was her admiration for the man turning into something more?

 

She shook her head, No, I can't be. You're seeing things where they aren't, it's just you missing your riduur and not what you think it is. Don't let yourself see him that way. You're not ready and you'll only hurt yourself and make things uncomfortable for both of you.

 

Mirdala lowered herself to a sitting position at the bottom of the shower, and began gingerly removing the bandages to reveal what she'd survived.

She hissed in pain as she pealed back the first piece of gauze that Fett had pressed into her to stop the bleeding. An eight-inch gash ran from her right side to her left side, getting deeper as it traveled to the left. The wound was just below her navel, and right were her belly plate would rub and irritate it. "No beskar'gam for a while then," she mused as she gently washed the dried blood away, better revealing the laceration.

 

Staring at the open wound, reminded her of her vision and she felt the undefined mixture of emotions all over again. She'd been through an ordeal in the last few hours and she was finally able to be alone with her thoughts and emotions, and in that private moment she allowed herself to cry for the first time in sadness for Tracyn. Sobs wracked her small frame as she allowed them to flow, not in anger this time, but because she sorely missed her riduur and wished that he was still here.

 

How would her life have been different had she not responded to the strange message sent by Aryian Darkfire? Would Tracyn have lived? Would they have been buire? She cried for all of the "what ifs", "would haves", and "should have been"s until the water began to chill. She turned it off and took a few deep, but painful breaths in order to regain herself. She had refused to even let Tracyn see her like this, and she'd be damned if, at least for right now, she'd let Fett.

 

She pulled herself up from the floor of the shower, grabbed one of the towels and dried herself with it, being extra cautious around her wounds.

 

Her head lacerations weren't really serious enough to need that much bandaging as they'd already formed scabs, the bacta pack that Fett had given her was doing its job.

 

She wrapped the towel around her and reentered her bunk. On the bed a fresh set of bandages, antiseptic and bacta pack had been set out for her. Her first reaction was concern that Fett had heard her crying from the sanisteam, but then she realized that even if he had, he would have respect enough for her not to mention it if he had. He'd simply made sure that she'd have what she needed to redress the wound after she washed.

 

She unwrapped the towel and sat on the bed and began to dress the wound and apply the bacta, all the while sensing that there'd been some undefined shift in her relationship with her traat'aliit'ad. She wasn't sure what it was, what it meant, or even how she'd feel about it if it had, but there had been a definite shift. There was something more than pragmatism in his tone back on Nubia when he'd remarked that she was no use to him dead.

 

As she finished the wrappings, she pushed those thoughts aside, choosing instead to focus on how she could be of use to the department while she was working back to full strength. She pulled up the reports from the recent incident on Corellia, her own people's reports on Nubia, and what limited information she could get from the team on Naboo. One thing that she was good at was pouring through vast amounts of information, which luckily didn't require rigorous physical activity. The last thing that she needed to do now was reopen her wound. As she dressed, choosing a loose-fitting pair of pants, and a close-fitting, but still comfortable short sleeved shirt, she monitored the information, quickly realizing from the Holonet News that CoreSec needed something to rescue its image, especially from the catastrophe that had befallen the team that had been dispatched to Corellia. "Fett," she commed, "News from the other team isn't good, and apparently we also had Kitt turn himself in for the destruction on Naboo, Bespin, and Kashyyyk. We know the man, he was the one who hukaat'kama back on the Mechis III mission. I wonder what his game is, I don't think that there's any way he could have been capable of something like that. It wasn't that long ago that he was on Enigma. Perhaps a short detour to find out from Arec what he was up to before we see him?"

 

She exited her room to find him rounding the corner, "It also seems that your mysterious Mando'ad friend returned to try to strong arm Mazzari into speaking with you again, though this time he managed to again bypass security armed again, but left without real threat of violence and waited a patient five whole minutes according to the report." She brushed some of her still-wet hair behind her ear as she relayed her report to Fett. Work was how she'd chosen to get through her current emotional turmoil, breaking down like an ad got you nowhere and there was plenty of work that she could do to contribute until she was cleared for field duty again.

 

"And apparently we're also getting reports of a bomb threat, but we won't be able to arrive in time to do much other than issue orders from here if we need to. There's little that we can do other than that." Her brow furrowed for a moment, deep in thought. "How was it that they were able to even sneak one past the building's security? It's all the way to street level and one of the most secure buildings in the area..." She trailed off, sensing something else at work, and could almost swear she thought she heard something whisper through her mind. "Moon, I don't think that it's been one of our people that has been trying to see you. I think that we're dealing with a Force user. How else could someone have planted a bomb in a secure building?"

[Moon Knight]

ShadowFett gave a smirk when Mirdala excused herself, pulling himself back in just like that. He turned off again, the encounter over, his mind going back to its pragmatic, calculating self in a blink. As soon as she had left for the Justice's small refresher, he got up, threw his gloves in the wash and put on another pair, then returned to the table and started disassembling his assault rifle to clean it. It had been the only weapon he'd needed other than the low-maintenance shattergun, a single concussion grenade, and a single dart. Since it was scomp-linked to his buy'ce, he had grown more reliant on the weapon recently, to the point where he'd ceased carrying Westar pistols in favor of more interesting weapons that would allow him to improvise against difficult targets.

 

He'd finished the assault rifle and was recalibrating the shattergun when Mirdala commed him from the other room, starting to talk business again. He was somewhat surprised to hear about Fitt, the former jetii Grand Master, turning himself in for a bunch of crimes that Mand'alor highly doubted he'd committed. He shook his head at Mirdala's suggestion, though she wouldn't see it. "Nayc, better to just talk to Fitt himself and save the gathering of clues for if he's as cryptic as most jetiise."

 

The news about the man who kept showing up looking for him was puzzling Moon Knight. "I'd bet the bomb threat and the Mando'ad are linked. Not sure who he is, but I think he's more intent on causing trouble than simply speaking to me; otherwise he'd reach me through my old beroya channels." It couldn't have been that hard to find out how to get ahold of him directly, since he'd had a steady stream of clients during his hunting days. He frowned a little when she called him 'Moon', but continued without addressing it. "You're right that he might be a dar'jetiise. I wouldn't mind running into him sooner or later, but I'll be sure to carry an ysalamir when I do."

 

If it was a Mando'ad, perhaps there was some news from Manda'yaim, but it seemed like they would contact him directly as well. It could also be someone in disguise in a stolen beskar'gam, which would explain the stupidity involved in failing to go through regular channels. Either way, it seemed likely to Fett that he was going to have to deal with this personally sooner or later. He still had a lot of enemies in the oyu'baat (not the bar in Keldabe), and it could be one with an old grudge trying to get close to him. Therefore, Fett would name the terms of their meeting.

 

At any rate, there were enough smart people in HQ to deal with a bomb threat, and most of those were false alarms anyway.

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

"We'd just have to prove the link, which reminds me, the oddest part of this job - reports and evidence that need to be filed. Why can't these aruetii take a page from the Journeymen, we never dealt with work like that as much." She didn't miss his frown when she'd called him "Moon", but she didn't know what else other than "Fett" to call him. He certainly didn't refer to her as "Ad'Goran", and had recently began using the familiar form of her name when it was just the two of them. She mentally noted the disdain for that address and continued.

 

"I agree there's not much we can do about the bomb threat from here, other than help the teams get organized," she sat down across from him, crossing her legs in the seat. "Something really doesn't feel right about that man, and I can't seem to shake it. I'm for yasalimiri when we're in HQ at all. I need to get used to them so I'm not caught off guard, and positioning them throughout the building might be beneficial as well. Though, I don't think that Armenia will like it."

 

For a moment she looked at him, remembering their earlier encounter when they'd first met. "What would you have done had I actually been dar'manda?" A sense of amusement danced in her eyes as she watched him clean his rifle. "Or if I'd told you then that I was Force-sensitive?"

 

Part of her was still trying to make sense of why this man had chosen to trust her above the other members of the Augury, many he'd worked a lot more closely with than her.

[Moon Knight]

ShadowFett raised an eyebrow for a moment at the change of subject, then thought it over. "Well, if you were dar'manda, we certainly wouldn't be having this conversation," he said. In order to be named such, one would have to have forsaken the resol'nare, the fundamentals of what it meant to be a Mandalorian. Such a failure meant that one lacked the dedication and discipline to hold fast to those tenets, something that even Mandalorian children could accomplish. "I would have labeled you as untrustworthy, undedicated. Even a jetii holds to his code, as limiting as it is."

 

He wasn't really sure what she was getting at by following this line of conversation, but he was content to talk. "At the time we met, I didn't particularly trust jetiise, either. I would have cautioned you, just as I have now," he decided. It was still a danger. Reliance on the Force made you much less of a verd. Thankfully, Mirdala understood this, and her willingness to embrace his use of ysalamiri proved it.

 

Maybe she was trying to understand how they had come to trust each other so quickly. He didn't really have an answer, because he wasn't sure himself. When he'd encountered her on Tatooine, when they decided to team up, he had come immediately from slaying Piccolo. Little had he realized that just after burying one man he'd once trusted he would immediately plant the seeds of trusting this dala.

 

His calibrations done, Mand'alor snapped his shattergun back together, tweaking the scope just a little bit before holstering the weapon. "I'm glad it all worked out. Working alone has benefits, but not as many as having another Mando'ad to huukat'kama. We're stronger together, Mirdala."

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

"Well, if you were dar'manda, we certainly wouldn't be having this conversation," he said, with his eyebrow raised. "I would have labeled you as untrustworthy, undedicated. Even a jetii holds to his code, as limiting as it is."

 

Mirdala laughed for a moment, only managing to wince slightly at the pain. "I suppose you're right. You never really seemed like the trusting type so it surprised me that you'd accepted Aryian's offer in the first place. Though," she paused, her eyes glancing down for a moment before meeting his again, "I don't know why I felt that I had to prove myself to you."

 

"I guess it could have been that if we were to ever function as a unit there was no room for tension between the Augury's members. I don't know why I trusted Aryian either, especially since somehow he'd found out my true identity and my Force sensitivity."

 

As interesting as it had been to work with the Jetiise that were on the team, she knew that she'd work best with someone who thought similarly to her, or was closer to her at least culturally. She tended to upset people at times with her bluntness. "The beauty of our traat'aliit is that we balance one another so well."

 

The dala gave a wistful smile and a short laugh, remembering her own partnership in the field with her riduur. "Though Tracyn and I complemented each other well, at times he had a bit of a tendency to be a bit ori'buyce, kih'kovid. Landed us in trouble a bit, though it was good training for dealing with situations that don't go as planned." She shook her head remembering the incident with the Kal Korans and Faust's tournament of Mando'ade for his amusement.

 

"Ever worked for Faust before? Tracyn got us in that situation after he convinced us that we should join in the tournament. It was clearly a trap, but somehow we were two of the survivors after some that called themselves Mando'ade showed up and made the event a slaughter-fest instead of facing the real enemy: Faust."

 

She pushed back from the table and went to where she'd stowed her gear, bringing forth her data pad, figuring that she'd get started on writing her report while she ate something. Her stomach grumbled that it hadn't been fed since the night before, and had they stayed on Nubia, it would now be close to the evening meal. She hadn't realized how famished she was as she grabbed a couple of ration packs, figuring that Fett hadn't eaten either. "Not that I ever actually agreed to take on the job, I was careful in my wording not to promise. I did not approve of the koor, though Tracyn agreed and as always I would do my part to help him."

 

She tossed the ration pack across the table as she sat back down and began to do her best to not simply inhale hers. It was a good sign that her appetite was back, and the color was finally beginning to return to her pale face as both her mood and strength increased.

[Moon Knight]

ShadowFett's mood lightened as Mirdala's did. He'd never considered much of a conversationalist, but it seemed that he broke all sorts of precedents with this dala. He was the person he was for a reason, and one didn't gain his list of accomplishments through anything less, but at the same time, there was no harm in setting aside the persona of the heartless killer for an hour or two in order to get to know his traat'aliit'ad better. In some ways, it was refreshing just to converse, rather than be consumed by his business mindset to the point where he didn't have another setting.

 

"I joined the Augury because I'm Moon Knight, and I needed to fight the Empire instead of just run beroya jobs," he explained. "Darkfire did a few things right and a few things wrong, but I knew that if I was going to be part of a traat'aliit, I would have to trust them and they me. It was hard with the jetiise at first, but you're a Mando'ad, and once I was certain, it was easy."

 

His throat was getting a little scratchy from all the talking. As refreshing conversation was, it didn't make him used to it. The next topic was Faust, though. "Faust is a demagolka if anyone is," he said. "Back with Black Sun, I worked with him once, just before he executed the planetary shield incident on Triple Zero. Since then, each of our meetings have been less than friendly." Fett thought back. He still wasn't certain what the purpose behind his infiltration of the Senate building had been. But Faust had asked him to hit the planetary shield generator next, something he had intended on doing until an Imperial fleet had showed up out of hyperspace. His hands were clean of Faust's crime.

 

Presently the Mando'ad caught the ration pack and tore open the casing. "When I heard about that tournament, I steered well clear of it. It seemed like he wanted us to validate ourselves as ori'ramikade by fighting each other. The only things that are important are the resol'nare." He took a bite, then set the bar down, got up and grabbed a couple bottles of water, sliding one over to Mirdala and drinking from the other himself.

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

She took a few sips of the water and finished off her ration pack as she sorted through the reports of the physical evidence from the scene in Nubia, some of the teams had started going through the various data pads that had been left by the meeting attendees, though they were having a slow go of it because of the high-level of encryption that was in place on the data pads. Some of what they'd found pointed to more plots to try to manipulate the events that were now at work influencing and shaping the Galactic Alliance during it's infancy. Had she not have been a battle-hardened ori'ramikade, she would have been shocked by the level of corruption and willingness to sacrifice innocent lives, all just to profit from the building and set in place the pillars of the GA's destruction once they'd decided more profit was to be made from war, rather than peace. She punched up a summary of the information and slid the pad towards Fett. "It looks like this ran deeper than we thought. Too bad for them, they got sloppy and had the pleasure of dealing with us."

 

She grabbed the other data pad, the one with the Force training information that Aryian had given her over a year ago when she'd first joined the Augury. "What Force abilities did Isolder find most tactically beneficial?" Her intrigued jade eyes examined the datapad, she knew that she wanted to begin her training soon, but almost didn't know where to begin or past what was presented to her on the datapad, what options there were.

[Moon Knight]

ShadowFett pondered on the question about Isolder, searching his own memories, all of his combat experiences wielding the Force for the best answer. There were some common elements, some fundamentals about combat with jetii'kad or caelestrum that gave such simple weapons the ability to compete with the most impressive arrays of blasters and technology. "It's actually the basics that make the biggest difference," he said. "Precognition gives jetiise superhuman reflexes, and simple telekinesis can be used as both a weapon to throw aru'e bodily and a defense, especially against grenades."

 

During the infiltration of the Imperial Spire, Kirlocca's ability to redirect grenades had been extremely useful. Uncertain about the effectiveness of their blaster rifles against beskar and jetii'kad, the Imperial troops had resorted to thermal detonators, which had ended poorly for them. Conversely, grenades were one of the more difficult things for Fett to deal with himself, although he had occasionally made creative use of his repulsor pack for that purpose. If Mirdala mastered such a technique, it would be one less thing to worry about.

 

"Isolder could do some... exceptional things," Moon Knight continued. "Phase through walls, summon storms, speak with the kyrayc. Useful things, but so advanced he took half a century to master them." Probably not the sort of things Mirdala could learn with her fledgling gift. At least, not without fully devoting herself to the study of the Force, something he was pretty certain she wasn't going to do because of the associated dangers. "If I were you, I'd focus on defensive techniques. Precognition, defensive screens and telekinesis, fundamentals like speed and mobility." It would also be pretty shabla useful to learn how to use a jetii'kad to deflect blaster fire, but he wasn't sure if she wanted to go that far as to start wielding the weapon of a jetii. Fett did own two of the weapons, however, so it was a possibility if she did so wish.

 

He set his mind again on the task of adapting what he knew about the Force and the Blademasters to fit the Mando ideals. He might just be able to teach Mirdala a few things about the Force, but he wasn't sure if he was capable or even willing to teach her everything she needed to become a Jedi Knight. It was a fine line to walk.

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

Mirdala pondered his suggestions for a moment, somehow not surprised to learn, as with so many things, it was the basics that held the most value. It was really just the application and development of duration and strength that built upon those foundations that made the ability more advanced that just the basic principle.

 

"That's primarily what I was thinking, I don't really have any desire to join the ranks of the jetiise, or even to develop a major reliance on these abilities. Like any good weapon, I know that they can be taken from you, so you should always have a plan B."

 

Suddenly she began to feel exhausted once more, figuring that she'd been able to allow the bacta patch to work it's healing powers on her concussion. What her body needed now was rest, since she'd just eaten. "I'm going to go lay back down and see if I can't help this bacta along. Let me know when we reach Triple Zero." She rose, gathering the eaten ration packs and empty water canisters and deposited them in their appropriate locations. She left the datapads with Fett in case he chose to analyze the data further.

 

Her last thoughts before she drifted off were of their meeting on Tatooine, and how she'd somehow known that he'd been stabbed during a fight with someone. Were the two of them bonded in someway that neither of them had suspected? Aryian had brought them together as traat'aliit'ade, was there something that the Force had told him that he hadn't shared with either of the Mando'ad?

 

After a few moments, the thoughts faded and she fell into a restful and healing slumber.

[Serpe]

A small freighter emerged from hyperspace as the owner wished. Moon sighed, glancing down at her robotic arm, her lightsaber, and then turned to focus her gaze on space. Thoughts not only ran through her mind, but seemed to run in circles. Over and over, the same images and phrases plagued her internal eyes and ears.

It's your fault, you let yourself fall.

 

She became frustrated at the images, cringing in her chair and slouching slightly. Her hands flew up to her ears as her eyes closed shut, like blast doors being sealed from an intruder or a leak of atmosphere. The Force around her grew hot, her anger seeping through her pores and her depression causing her feet to grow cold.

 

As if shot by an unseen blaster held by an imaginary smuggler coming to steal her nonexistent - and even if it was, worthless - cargo, Moon straightened in her chair as her arms slowly fell back down to her sides. The Force grew calm as she did, the two acting as one. No, not acting as one, they were one. Moon no longer felt as if she was in control of her ship. She no longer felt apart from the ship. She was the ship. She could feel the engines shudder as if they were her own feet, could see through the cockpit as if the transparisteel was her eyes. The hull of the ship felt as her skin, she could feel every scorch mark and missing plating as if they were burns or cuts on her own skin. She was the ship, the ship was her, and the two together were the Force. Everything was the Force.

It is your fault. You fell. And you were redeemed. All of it is your fault. Learn. Grow. Teach.

 

Moon instinctively slipped into a meditative trance, her body at once calming down. The images and phrases still lingered, but she was no longer plagued by them. She learned. And will continue to learn. And to teach, that is how she will learn further.

 

"Off to Gala. Hope the Jedi didn't miss me too much."

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

Mirdala rose, feeling refreshed, noticing that the pain she'd felt when she'd fallen asleep had dramatically lessened, though her body still felt sore. Her sleep had been dreamless, her body totally focused on resting and recuperating from its recent ordeal. She reached for a fresh set of kute and tested her ability to wear her regular beskar'gam over her well-bandaged injury. She glanced at herself in the mirror and decided to run a few fingers through her tangled hair, thinking about how fast the bacta treatments were going to make her almost-shoulder-length hair grow. At least it would get her through the annoying in-between phase where it was to long and in her way, but too short to pull back effectively. She sighed again and wondered how long she'd been asleep. It was only a four hour jump from Nubia to Coruscant and she'd spent nearly the first hour getting patched up and cleaned up.

 

She reached into her pack to pull out her buy'ce when something floated to the floor, she bent down to pick it up, her body quick to remind her, though not as painfully as before, that bending at the waist with beskar'gam wasn't a good idea. She straightened her back and knelt, picking up the piece of flimsiplast that was an old photo of Joreel, Tracyn, and her just after they'd announced their marriage to their families and friends. A serene smile at the happy memory passed her lips and she set the worn image on the table, next to her bag as she checked the connections in her suit.

 

Her thoughts drifted again to wondering how things would have been different had she stayed on Tatooine. She wouldn't have gotten the opportunity to have seen or work with the level of tech that the Augury had provided her with, and part of that had made the means to exact her revenge for Tracyn's death so easy. The resources that she'd enjoyed had helped her efficiently and effectively explore her gear-head side. Her data pad contained several varying designs for different types of tactical droids, surveillance droids, new armor upgrades, weapon designs, and other various odds and ends that had come from within the mind of the Mando'ad. During her recovery time, she planned on getting her hands on what she'd need to build them, knowing that they'd help CoreSec be able to do their job more safely and efficiently.

 

She replaced the protective cover back on the datapad and tossed it into her buy'ce as she activated the door and stepped out into the hall. Silently she made her way to the cockpit, looking for Fett, wondering just how far along in the journey they were. "Oy," she said simply as she sat in the co-pilots seat and watched the stars streak by. She sat the buy'ce on the ground and crossed her legs in the seat and began making adjustments on one of the more advanced and complicated droid designs. "How close are we?" The dala spoke, but didn't look up from the pad as she continued to work.

 

Though seemingly focused on the datapad, her mind couldn't help but continue to drift back to the events a few hours prior, no matter how much she tried to pour herself into her work.

 

His concern was for getting you out of there alive. You heard him, he values you as a traat'allit'ad that he can count on. He knows you and knows that taking the time to train and get to know another traat'aliit'ad would just be more time that he doesn't have. You both understand each other because you are both Mando'ad. There is nothing more there. Stop kidding yourself, it's only because you miss your riduur.

 

Her inner-self could be such an ass sometimes. It didn't mean that she wasn't right though.

 

She tried once again to focus on her work, knowing that once she was back in the action at HQ that keeping the little opposing analytical voices quiet would be much easier. Work and duty were definitely the answer to this particular dilemma. She was especially interested to learn what had brought Kitt to turn himself in for crimes that he didn't commit. She opted to focus on that instead.

 

"What do you suppose Kitt's game is?" she intoned, finally looking up from her work, and addressing Fett directly.

[Moon Knight]

When Mirdala came back in, ShadowFett was sitting in the pilot's seat, preparing to bring the Tra'kad out of hyperspace as well as spending more time mentally reviewing the Nubia mission. After each time he got into combat, Mand'alor was always careful to review his own performance carefully, so that he could learn from his mistakes and further identify his tendencies in the heat of battle, particularly as they would differ from what he expected from himself. The fight had gone well. He had made the important shots and been where he'd needed to be. Not perfect, but good.

 

"Minutes," he answered her original question. Indeed, the timer to real space reversion was down under three minutes. He looked at her when he said it, noting that the color had returned to her face and she was looking much healthier. Ori'jate, he thought. Then he noticed that, although she was staring at her datapad, she had lapsed into thought, as her eyes had stopped moving, and he wondered what she was thinking about. He couldn't read her well enough yet to take a stab at it, but it could have to do with their previous discussion.

 

So he turned his mind to Kitt when prompted. "I have difficulty reading Fitt. Didn't know him personally, but when he was the jetii Grand Master, he advocated almost pacifism up until the Death Star battle," he said. It had always struck him as a little odd that such a man had been a part of the Augury, given his reluctance to draw his jetii'kad, but then again, the Order needed some people like that, too, something Fett had needed the memories of a Blademaster to understand. "He could never be lawfully convicted, so he must be trying to make a point. Or to get into prison for a time, maybe to bust someone out, or perhaps for protection."

 

Fitt had enemies, and he'd resigned when he'd been defeated by that gang of marauding dar'jetiise and their allies. Fett would figure that could break his pacifistic nature, especially after seeing how effective the Augury had been in those first few ops. At any rate, since they were both members of the Augury and now Fett was a Commissioner for CoreSec, he figured if there was anyone Fitt would tell, there was a decent chance that it would be him.

 

Now the timer ticked down to less than a minute.

 

((You can squeeze in another one or, if the Menthu situation resolves promptly in response to the ruling, just post our arrival on Corrie.))

[TheEngineer]

As it turned out, the employees at the security checkpoint were bored enough to let Sophia slip by. They had already admitted a couple thousand people in varying states of poverty and documentation””improvising a new ID card by splicing her stolen employee's ID and her own was enough to pass their cursory glance. Sophia immediately slipped out of sight and changed out of the appropriated overalls after boarding the Flare””there was no need for the disguise any longer, and the uniform would bring more attention from the staff of the cruiser.

 

That was what she thought would be the best course of action. Instead, that proved to be her downfall. After taking her place in the squalor of the passenger cabins, surrounded by sentients of all races, income levels, and health (or lack of, for some of them), a manual ticket check revealed the stowaway. She was almost immediately held at blasterpoint by the security officer (it was a stun-only model, but Sophia wasn't about to resist), and then shoved to her knees onto the metal deck. Seconds later, she felt the cold rasp of stun cuffs clasping around her wrists.

 

That was the last thing she felt. The cuffs were immediately activated and all feeling left her body, and the skinny woman slumped helplessly to the deck.

[Fulmin Grestic]

Hands clasped behind his back he stood staring out at the view port. He was lost in thought, a very different mind set that most would have before a battle. He remembered a time when a problem would erupt some where in the galaxy and it was his duty to despond. The Job of a stormtrooper was never finished, and he now had one helluva mess to clean up. He didn't mind, he was here to give back to the galaxy.

 

The view ports closed as the ship prepared to make it's jump to lightspeed. The transports had all been given their assignments and were in synch to arrive at the same time. A few moments later he was accelerated to FTL travel.

[darth shadowlord]

Once in space, Draken made a course correction heading in a different direction from the Imperial troops, Fulmin had things well in hand and it was time to attend to other matters. Laying in a new course, Draken set out on his way.

[Sandy Sarna]

With a sharp push the slavers shoved Ad'Goran into one of few uncrowded cells. Her hands were quickly secured by stiff chains to the dank steel wall. Her form lay there for some time, the only sounds coming from her gentle breathing, and the stifled sobs of the only other person in the cell. A young girl of maybe fourteen, secured in much the same way, her clothes tattered. And her white freckled skin botched with blood from the earlier carving. She was Sandy Senya, a Jedi Padawan. Who was feeling very scared, and confused. Her heart pounding away, attempting to stifle her sons of pain and grief. Tears slowly rolling down her pale cheeks. Whatever they had chained here was no doubt dangerous. She attempted to scoot as far away from the person as she could.

 

Whenever Ad'Goran would awaken, the only sounds she would hear was the distant humming of the hyperdrive. And the muffled sounds of crying.

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

Mirdala awoke groggily still in her now stained uniform, her arms feeling heavy for some reason, her mind processed she was on a ship, likely headed through hyperspace, and there was another sound, crying? She shook herself and tried to get up, finding that her arms were heavy because they were chained to the wall. Suddenly she was up and fully aware, an angry stream of curses, swear words, and profanities in a mixture of Mando'a, Huttese, Bocce, and Rodese.

 

She strained against her chains, fighting them, testing their strength. Rage filled her at being caged, and finally the sobs of another managed to breach that wall of stubborn determination, bringing Mirdala back to a more rational state. If she were going to get out of here alive, she knew that she was going to have to keep her temper in check if she couldn't use it to her advantage. Caged Mando'ade didn't take well to it, and it usually ended in the deaths of whoever had captured them.

 

Sighing, she sat back down and leaned her head against the durasteel bulkhead, taking in her surroundings for a moment. The sobbing was coming from a huddled mass in the corner, and suddenly Mirdala felt guilty for likely scaring this poor being more so than was needed.

 

Emerald green eyes met Mirdala's resolute jade, and Mirdala swore again in Mando'a. It was just a kid.

 

These chakaar are going to pay for this. She's just a kid.

 

In the dimness Mirdala could make out the darker brown stains on her light green tunic. Her light green Jetiise tunic.

 

"Fierfek, kriffing sons of banthas," she spat, but her voice had lost the edge as she tried to get as close as she could to the girl, who surely couldn't be more than a habir'jetii, a Padawan. Mirdala certainly hoped that the girl hadn't been trained enough to sense that Mirdala fell the pull of the Force as well.

 

Discovery of that secret was one thing that caused Mirdala to be a little more on edge when she was around the Jetiise. She reached out to the sobbing girl. "Kid, I promise I'm not going to hurt you. I'm sorry for my tirade. I promise I'm only a danger to anyone outside of this room."

 

Mirdala couldn't explain the sudden instinct to protect this girl, perhaps it was the way she was cowering in fear and the constant sobbing. She couldn't have been very long in her training, Mirdala supposed as she reached out a hand to the girl. "I promise, I'm not going to hurt you, but I will get us out of this."

[Sandy Sarna]

The being awoke with a scream of agony mixed with an uncouth language. A strange mix of syllables that sounded like it was created in the mind of a single obsessed book writer. Sandy shrieked in fright, trying to bury her face into her arms that were chained above her head. She shook, her body trembling whilst her mind struggled to regain control. The pain in her shoulder and body was unbearable. With every sob, the wound in her back opened more. Tearing the already shredded flesh. Ripping pain receptors asunder, and causing more blood to soak her already sopping, torn under-tunic.

 

The rattling of the creature against its chains was frightening when you could barely see. There was no natural light, save what filtered through the cracks in the door, and the dim glow of the doors control panel. The flickering lights contrasting sharply against the dark chains and the putrid floor.

 

Sandy dared a glance, and their eyes locked. Both a various shade of green. Reflecting the dim light. When their eyes lock, the creature let out another bellow in the uncouth tongue. Seeming to grow in shape, a dark shadow looming in the dim room. Then, the shadow became a form of a woman, much older than Sandy, yet not past her prime. Her exact features, Sandy could not determine. But the very fact that she appeared to be another human made Sandy's heart jump against the shadows of despair. Then she spoke some real words! Something that she understand. Or at least some words that Sandy understood, but was not allowed to utter in the presence of her master.

 

Sandy struggled against her chains and extended one of her thin hands. A touch was all she needed, something to grasp onto, to be comforted against the raging storm of fear.

 

Her voice cracked with pain, "I'm scared..."

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

Mirdala reached forward and took the young girl's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, her voice now gentle as she spoke, "I know ad'ika, but you will have to be strong. We will get out of here. I don't think CoreSec or the Jetiise will let our captures go unanswered."

 

She leaned towards Sandy, trying to get a better look at the gir's back with her implant's systems. To avoid detection, she'd deactivated the communications element of the system, but was now able to make use of the medical scanners without worry of the signal being detected. The optical relay enhanced Mirdala's ability to see in low light, giving her a better view of both the girl's tear streaked face as well as the deep patterned cuts in the girl's shoulder.

 

Mirdala's instinct to throttle whoever would do this to a young girl flashed brilliantly for a moment, but she held it in check this time, not wanting to scare the girl further. "Do you know what the first duty of a captured soldier is?" A conspiratory glint flashed in her jade eyes.

 

The goal was to get her to focus on something besides her shoulder and how much it surely hurt her. Mirdala was impressed that the girl was still conscious as the cuts seemed to go down as deep as the bone itself. "What's your name ad'ika? Who is your Master?"

[Fejj Kesada]

A few years ago Fejj awoke in the middle of the night. The Force was calling out to him, although he did not know it. It was the exact moment that the Jedi Master known as Kitt had activated the planet's beacon through the Force. It called out to all those who dwelled in the lightside through out the galaxy. For those weak in the Force the message was short and simple, Tython. For some it was just a word that came and went. But for others, such as Fejj, it had stuck. He wrote the word down that night and since then spent years researching. With his money and intelligence, and unknown to him the guidance of the Force, he sought out what he believed were the cooridantes of the fabled Jedi Planet.

[Sandy Sarna]

Sandy squeezed the woman's hand and let a sigh of relief escape her exhausted form. She just wanted to curl up and fall into a dreamless sleep, however that was impossible with chains on, so she kept in a sitting position, struggling to control her emotions. Her eyes met the woman's again. She looked sort of confused, "Would the first low of being a POW be fight until your dead, and never get captured at all?" She let out a hallow laugh. Then let out a shriek of pain from her back. She whispered a few very mild swears then met the woman's gaze.

 

"So how did they get you?"

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

Mirdala scowled for a moment as she considered her response. The girl's question was earnest, but Mirdala didn't like to be reminded when she'd failed at something, let alone allowed herself to fall for a set up, even one as elaborate as the one she'd fallen prey to. ”œA lie and an ambush. It took at least six of them to take me down. It is not something I will soon forget nor will my partner. Our people have a saying, Munit tome'tayl, skota iisa, 'long memory, short fuse'.”

[Nitestrike]

"Yeah, yeah, I know, nothing's there." After entering the Pyrshak system a few days ago, Brad's life had consisted of many sensor sweeps of the planets in the system with short bouts of sleep mixed in. As impressive as his sensor package was, his ship could only do so much. Finding something hidden by a Jedi Master was not something that was supposed to be easy, no matter how large that object was. The only thing he could say with any certainty at this point was that the ship itself was not near Manaan, the main planet in the system.

 

Frustrated with his lack of progress, Brad slapped his sensor package offline. If it was a Jedi installation, hidden by a Jedi Master, and a general conduit of the Force, surely using his power was the simplest way to find it. Slowly, he reached out with the Force, focusing his mind on the planets in the system. The distance his senses were covering were enough to tire him, as his abilities were being pushed near their limit. One by one, however, his mind advanced, gathering information about the various masses that surrounded him.

 

Suddenly, he felt it, on the edge of his senses. With considerable effort, Brad focused on the presence of the Force in the system. He let the Force guide his hand as he piloted his craft towards the source of energy, letting up as he felt the planet come into view. It was here, of that he was sure, but nevertheless he flipped back on his sensors and scanned the planet. The ship was now orbiting Navlass, but nothing was detected on the planet. "Damnit, it has to be here!" he called out, disappointed at the capabilities of his ship once again.

 

As the orbit around the planet continued, he could feel it clearly, without much focus. That was when he realized it wasn't on the planet itself, rather it was on one of the planet's moons. Adjusting his course to coincide with his senses, he was treated to a glimpse of the ship as it rose into his field of vision.

 

The Eternal Vigilance, he had found it.