BLOOD OF HEROES
Act II

Chapter XI - Chapter XXX

by Charles Sonnenburg (sonn@sfdebris.com)


CHAPTER XI

	Annika Hansen Skywalker had been admitted to the hospital fourteen weeks ago, 
but it felt like a lifetime.  Her life had fallen into a routine of misery, of pokes 
and prods and scans and tests, oh the tests.  The endless parade of faces with their 
analyses was her world now, and by now Annika was convinced that if there was anyone 
within a thousand miles who was a physician, surgeon, microbiologist, or village witch 
doctor that hadn't seen her, he or she was probably sick themselves.  And during the 
moments when she was finally left in peace, she was exhausted beyond measure.  The 
disease sapped her strength, and the treatments took whatever was left.  Tired in body 
and tired in spirit, waiting for the inevitable, knowing she'd done all she could.  
Most of all, she was tired of fighting, which given her past tendencies, was amusing to 
her in its irony.  
	But there was one thing she clung to even in her desperate hours, when the 
loneliness and exhaustion were overwhelming.  It was a tiny little kick, when Jorri had 
come to visit.  Annika could never have children, and yet, a grandchild was coming, was 
nearly here.  Another addition to their little family, and Annika wanted to be there 
for her.  The Doctor, as always, had been right: the thing she had left to do in her 
life was live.  So, she awoke to a new morning, and with grim determination reminded 
herself that her job for today was to stay alive.  It didn't seem the most ambitious of 
goals, but it required a constant vigilance.  Fail once, and odds are you wouldn't get 
another chance.
	The door opened, and Annika turned towards it with her usual weary dread.  It 
evaporated in an instant when she saw who it was.  "Sebastian!"
	"Shh!" he said as the door closed behind him.  "The Doctor let me in, but I 
can't attract any attention; it would be bad for the other patients."
	"And you," she said.  "They're probably watching the hospital."
	"Yeah, well, I'll take my chances."
	"Such reckless behavior; I thought I raised you better."  She embraced him, 
although it was hard for even that exertion.  "Still, I'm glad to see you."
	He released her and pulled a chair nearby.  "I'm sorry I can't visit often," he 
said, and she could hear in his voice that was putting it mildly.
	"Being a wanted man does that to you," Annika said.  "Don't worry about it.  
Han and Jorri have both been by often enough.  How long has it been since you've seen 
her?"
	"A few days, actually," Sebastian said.  "We've gotten a few systems worked out 
to avoid attracting attention."
	"She's not still flying, is she?"
	"Another month," Sebastian said.  He held up his hands as the tirade began.  "I 
don't like it either, but she's bucking for fighter operations command and if she takes 
too much time off for maternity leave-"
	"That's the most idiotic thing-"
	"Mom," Sebastian said, "this isn't the Federation.  Jorri's facing an uphill 
battle on this; she can't do anything to make it look like her gender will interfere 
with her duties."
	"Bah," she said with a wave of her hand.  "I made the choice of your father 
over my career."
	"Yes, and you hated leaving the Enterprise.  And don't lie to me because I was 
there to see it."
	Annika made a disappointed grunt.  "Damn time travel paradoxes.  They get in 
the way of old people embellishing on the good old days."
	"Yes, interfering with causality has always been one of my pet peeves."
	"I trust she's at least being smart about this," Annika finally said in defeat.
	"Jorri sees the doctor daily and follows a regiment so strict it makes 
Senatorial procedure look like a cantina brawl.  She's not taking any chances."
	"Except by flying," Annika pointed out.
	"Non-combat missions," Sebastian said.  "She's at no more risk than she'd be 
sitting in an office."
	"That's a lie," she said.  "If that were true you wouldn't feel nervous about 
it either."
	"I don't feel nervous."
	"Then why did you say, 'I don't like it either?'"
	Sebastian opened his mouth to answer, but all that came out was "kriff."  
	"Hah, perfect memory.  Don't try slipping one past me again," she said with a 
nod of self-satisfaction.
	"There's nothing dangerous about what's she's doing," Sebastian said.
	"But that's not good enough, right?"
	Sebastian sighed wearily.  "I have a bad feeling.  Only problem is, I don't 
know if it's a premonition or just me worrying needlessly.  I don't want to sink her 
career just because I'm overprotective."
	"And the baby?" Annika asked.
	"Jorri would never do anything to risk the baby," Sebastian said adamantly.  
"That's why she's doing everything the doctor tells her.  She even makes sure to keep 
the inertial dampeners at maximum to avoid any G-forces; the baby is going to be fine."
	"'The baby,' 'the baby,'" Annika said.  "You know, human beings really should 
have names.  Hasn't 'the baby,' had one picked out by now?"
	"We've talked about it a little," Sebastian said, seemingly grateful for the 
slight change in the subject.  "Although we're having a little trouble agreeing.  Jorri 
prefers traditional names like Toryn and Brindy, but I kind of prefer Terran names.  
Samantha, or Mary, something a little closer to my ancestral home."
	Annika nodded.  In their case, she and Luke didn't have to discuss this 
possibility; it was one of the advantages of meeting your child before he was 
conceived.  Still, she had always felt that it was the right name, that she would have 
chosen it regardless.  "Bastian," after the name of the little boy in the book Data had 
given her so long ago, a boy who somehow showed up because of some special kind of 
magic.  "Have you considered Dawn?"
	Sebastian made a face at the name.  "Dawn Skywalker?  No offense, mom, but that 
sounds pretty stupid.  Why Dawn?"
	Annika hesitated a moment, then explained about what she did, how she lived.  
The rise of the sun in the morning was a sign to her that she'd made it again, that 
another day had passed and she'd come that much closer to finally meeting her 
grandchild.  She finished and she saw the look on Sebastian's face.  "But you're right; 
Dawn really doesn't work."
	Sebastian nodded a little, seemingly lost in thought.  "How about Aurora?  That 
means the same thing, right?"
	Annika rolled it off her tongue a few times.  "It's your child, but personally 
I don't care much for it."
	"Well, there's got to be some more choices," Sebastian said, tapping his ring 
on his lightsaber.
	"What do you think of Morgan?"
	"Morgan?"
	"It means 'morning' in the language of our ancestors, at least in that area."
	"Morgan Skywalker," Sebastian said as he thought.  "I like that.  Although 
convincing Jorri will be another matter."
	Before the discussion could continue the Doctor materialized inside the room, 
which was unusual since he usually came in through the door.  His expression showed 
this wasn't about medicine.  "Sorry to intrude, but it looks like some white-clad 
fellows are interested in interrupting this reunion as well."
	Sebastian got to his feet, gave his mother a quick hug and kiss, then pulled 
out a site-to-site transport.  "I'll be back when I can," he promised.
	"Be careful," she said, then bit her lip to not got emotional when Sebastian 
vanished.  Except, he didn't vanish, and grief turned to panic.  
	"Kriff," he said under his breath as he jumped across the room to the window 
and yanked it open, looking down at the twenty or so story drop.  A group of about ten 
stormtroopers also waited there, and they drew their blasters at the sight of him.
	"I sympathize with the situation," the Doctor said quickly, "but I would like 
to remind you that this is a hospital."
	"Then they won't have far to go," Annika said, trying to pull herself out of 
bed.  The Doctor forced her back down, which was disgustingly easy.  
	"Relax, I can handle this," Sebastian lied, running out into the hallway and 
sprinting down it.  Fighting his way out wasn't an option; like the Doctor was 
implying, a firefight here would be disastrous for patients and staff.  If worse came 
to worse, he'd let them capture him and hope Gorren could break him out later... maybe.  
Admittedly, that didn't look very good, but there was one last option.  He reached the 
opposite side of the building and pulled the rappel cable from his belt, affixing it to 
the floor.  Even as he straightened back up the stormtroopers rounded the corner.  He 
reached out, and a blaster rifle flew through the air into his hand even as they 
brought their weapons to bear.  He ran towards an empty room, firing the blaster at the 
window until the material exploded outward, diving through the opening as the cable 
snaked out from his belt.  It caught a story below with a spine-jarring yank and pulled 
him into the side of the building, but a quick glance showed there were no 
stormtroopers here, so he dropped as quickly as he dared, letting the blaster fall 
while he sped things up.  As expected, the troopers cut the cable and he fell the last 
eight stories.  He absorbed the impact, but even for a Jedi it was a hard fall.  If 
he'd hit duracrete he'd probably need... well, he'd probably need to be brought back 
inside to be put back together, he thought as he rolled over and pushed himself off the 
dirt.  He disconnected the cable and half-ran, half-limped around the building.
	As Sebastian rounded the corner he discovered that the troopers had done an 
even more thorough job, having located his swoop and posted a patrol to guard it just 
in case.  He cursed the fact that he hadn't kept the blaster; he could have stunned 
these two with ease.  There was nothing malicious about what they wanted; they were 
pursuing a wanted man, they would use deadly force if they had to.  But Sebastian was 
too badly hurt to do this gently; if he screwed up they'd easily put him down or take 
him out.  He couldn't do that; he had a wife depending on him.  He had a baby coming... 
Morgan... Morgan Skywalker, who needed him to make it out of this alive.  He pulled out 
the lightsaber as he speed-limped his way across the clearing, blocking three blaster 
bolts and sending a fourth back to hit one of the troopers.  Sebastian closed the 
distance and stabbed the remaining stormtrooper through the chest, extinguishing it and 
hooking it to his belt even as the corpse fell.  
	Sebastian hopped on board the swoop and set off into the jungle, piloting on 
instinct as he pulled a tricorder out.  Transport scrambler, he thought as he closed it 
up and put it away.  He shifted to a higher speed, keeping himself focused as he dodged 
the thick foliage.  They'd be after him now; he'd need to get past the field to use his 
transporter to get back to the ship, and they'd probably pursue him with it to stop 
him.  That'd make things even more difficult.  It wasn't enough to get past them, he'd 
need to get far enough so he could stop and still use the transporter before he was 
inside the field again.  Sure, he could try doing it without stopping, but these little 
transporters weren't the most accurate, and odds were he'd wind up arriving on the ship 
at ninety kph.  They'd probably have to bring the transporter pad back to Chandrilla 
for the trial.
	Sebastian took a gamble and cranked up the accelerator.  His entire focus was 
on the approaching trees and the swoop; everything else was just a blur in the 
background.  He was moving solely on instincts, looking for gaps before he'd even flown 
through the one right in front of him, because there was no time to think.  After half 
a minute, it caught up with him as a stablizer grazed one of the trees, sending him 
into a wild spin.  Sebastian was thrown clear just before the swoop connected with 
another tree in a fiery explosion.  He hit the ground and rolled, bones breaking under 
the impact as his battered body came to a halt on the jungle floor.  
	After the shock of the moment wore off -which wasn't too long because the pain 
was like being dropped into a freezing lake- Sebastian reached down and activated the 
transporter.  Nothing.  He laid his head back with a grimace, then took a moment to try 
and take the edge off so he could think.  Finally, agonizingly, as his right arm was 
broken, he pulled out his tricorder.  The display was cracked, but he could clearly see 
the boundary was nearby.  Thirty, perhaps forty meters... he dropped the tricorder and 
laid back in exhaustion.  There was little chance his broken body could make it... ten 
maybe, but not that far.
	But, that wasn't how you got there.  His mother had gotten here, even though 
she shouldn't have.  Sebastian had asked the Doctor how much longer she had; he'd said 
that they were surprised she was still alive, with how far the disease had spread.  But 
she hung on, too stubborn to give in, her mind insisting that she go on because...  "I 
have a daughter," he said quietly, a weak cough escaping his lips.  "Morgan 
Skywalker."  He clawed with his good arm and pulled, groaning as he pushed with his 
broken legs.  Day by day, meter by meter, just know that you have to get there.
	There was nothing majestic about Sebastian's struggle.  Sometimes he would 
whimper in agony as his tortured body tried in vain to move.  Other times he simply 
laid there, too spent to even brush the fallen leaves from his face.  It was a pitiful 
display, but he wasn't doing this to impress anyone.  He fought on because he couldn't 
stop, even when the pain was too great to move or even breathe.  He must have gone 
about ten meters before he realized he'd left the tricorder where he'd landed, but 
didn't dare to go back.  He stopped every once in a while to try the transporter, each 
failure like another lead weight attached to his body as he pushed on.  He started 
worrying that it might have broken in the crash, but he couldn't think that way.  If it 
was broken, then it was over, and that meant he'd failed his daughter.  
	The sight of the inside of their ship was the most beautiful thing Sebastian 
had ever seen.  He lay back with a smile of contentment as Gorren came over and 
examined him.  He couldn't even hear the Klingon over the sound of blood rushing 
through his head.  "Take off," was all he could get out.  "Take off."  Gorren tried 
picking Sebastian up, but he pushed the Klingon away.  "Take off!" he said firmly.  
After a moment's hesitation Gorren rushed to the cockpit and Sebastian felt himself 
pushed onto the transporter pad with the acceleration.  He lay where he was, content 
despite the pain, despite the protest from his overtaxed limbs.  
	Gorren eventually came back and picked up the Jedi.  Even with a warrior's 
strength it proved a challenge, but he laid Sebastian delicately on a bed and started 
treating his wounds.  "What happened to you?" he asked.
	"I fell& twice."
	"I will do what I can, but I am no doctor."  He gave Sebastian something for 
the pain.  "I've set course for Fereginar."
	"Of course," Sebastian said.  "The Ferengi are known for medicinal skills 
across the Empire."
	"Your uncle and his doctor friend are there.  I'm sure he could look you over 
without risking another run-in with your Imperial friends."
	"Yeah, we'll see 'bout that," Sebastian droned.  "Now you be quiet 'cause our 
medicine make us sleepy."  And with that, the world faded away.


CHAPTER XII

	Ben Skywalker, the Sith Lord, sat in silence on board the cloaked ship Garak 
had provided.  It was a top of the line Imperial cloak, ensuring no one would be able 
to detect them.  Granted, they were operating without sensors, but for one as strong in 
the Force as he, that was no real loss.
	Far below on the planet Aligon the Sith were undergoing their first field 
exercises, each carefully observed by their master.  He'd paired them off on different 
assignments according to their ability with the Force, and he'd made that point clear 
before they'd been sent out.  Arrogance was an all too common trait of the Sith, but in 
such neophytes it could prove a fatal flaw.  Still, he had no doubt they possessed the 
skill to accomplish all they needed on Aligon; if not they weren't worthy to become 
Sith anyway.
	J'Dan, the Klingon, had been partnered with Shodah, the Falleen.  They both had 
only about two and a half months of training, and neither had been permitted 
lightsabers for this mission, which infuriated them both almost as much as being 
saddled with each other.  Ben had also made it clear that if one half of any team was 
lost, the other half would perish as well.  It was too early in their training for 
infighting and betrayal.  Instead they'd been armed with heavy blaster pistols and 
vibroknives, and with the dark side knowledge they'd been given.  For now it was mostly 
combat instincts and basic abilities to sense and control the Force, but they were far 
too green for the truly serious work.  
	Jowana and Triss, the two Mistryl, had learned their lessons quickly, and Ben 
often allowed them to assist in the training of the newer students.  Although they were 
all united as Sith, there were obvious cliques within the groups.  Torda, the Aqualish, 
and Shodah banded together because both had grown up on Ord Mantel, and also because 
Shodah spoke Aqualish.  Most of the Alpha Quadrant races tended to band together also.  
Ben had wondered if the Oracle's choices were deliberate, being an AQ native herself, 
but he did note the fire in them.  Unlike the Gamma and Delta Quadrants, there was no 
single dominant power like the Dominion or the Borg, which made their inevitable 
conquest a bit harder to adjust to than others.  Garak had started there, and so had 
Section 31.  The Hirogen may have remained persistent in their resistance, but it was 
never any real threat to the Empire.  The Alphas, though, they were dangerous, wearing 
away at the foundations rather than trying to topple the walls directly.  A search for 
those who turned to anger and dreamed of power would be wise to start there.
	The only Alpha Quadrant member who stayed out of that little group was Mareth, 
the Romulan.  She and the Klingon didn't see eye to eye, and she seemed to prefer the 
company of the Mistryl, whom she had more in common with.  Because of this, she had a 
definite leg-up on the others, which furthered the animosity between her and J'Dan.  
Ben and Molly stayed above it all; Ben made it clear to her that he wanted them to 
think him unconcerned about their petty rivalries.  It was, of course, beneath him, but 
it also provided a means to feed their anger.  Perhaps in time they would battle one 
another, but if that happened, it would only make the survivors stronger.  
	There was a small-time group of thugs who'd been brokering information out of 
Aligon for weeks.  Garak was sure they had a slicer droid -an astromech outfitted with 
the latest infiltration protocols- which could be put to much better use than these 
fools were.  J'Dan and Shodah were charged with eliminating the gang without damaging 
the droid.  It was just past sundown on this part of the planet, and many of the gang's 
members were out investing their organizations profits in alcohol and entertainment.  
"I sense, four or five minds," Shodah whispered to J'Dan.  The Klingon nodded, and the 
two crept silently through the shadows.  The gang was operating out of a converted 
warehouse, with an upper level for their housing while the lower level contained their 
equipment and weaponry.  Shodah fired an ascension gun and used it to quickly and 
quietly get to the upper story window.  It was open, but she could smell the ozone 
residue of a cheap security system to watch for intruders.  She waited in the darkness.
	J'Dan, in the meantime, had gone around to the front entrance.  With three 
blaster shots the door fragmented and the alarm sounded, causing the gang to rush up 
from whatever they were doing and check it out.  Shodah slipped through the window, 
unnoticed since the alarm had already been activated.  With quick, silent steps she 
crossed the distance to a gang member who'd taken up the rear, covered his mouth, and 
stabbed him through the back.  She lowered the lifeless body to the floor and slipped 
after them.  J'Dan, meanwhile, had picked off two with snapshots, letting his senses 
guide him even though he couldn't actually see what he was aiming at.  He felt Shodah's 
presence on the ground level and grudgingly held back to draw their fire for the 
moment.  She slipped up behind another and put him down in the same manner, but this 
time they noticed her.  Using the corpse as a shield, she let go of the vibroknife and 
pulled out her blaster pistol, gunning another two down.  Even as they turned to blast 
her J'Dan came back in, shooting down the ones who had tried going for the attacker in 
their midst.  Between the two of them, the gang went down in seconds.  
	Shodah dropped the corpse and ran towards the back room.  It was empty of all 
living occupants, but she spotted the droid.  J'Dan was behind her almost immediately.  
"We've got it," she said into her communicator as she attached a beacon to the droid.  
The three vanished, rematerializing back on the transporter pad of their ship.  Molly 
was there, overseeing everything as Garak's men began looking over the droid.  It was 
understood that when Ben wasn't there, Molly was his voice.  She may have been his 
apprentice, but she was the closest to him of all of them.
	"Well?" she asked.
	"Simple personality," the Cardassian said.  "This will be easy."
	"Good, astromechs can sometimes get a little independent," Molly said.  "I 
don't want any problems."  She pulled out the commlink.  "Phase one complete," she 
said.  "Proceed with the next step."
	Triss, to her disdain, had been stuck with Dirg, the Markalian.  He wasn't very 
far along either, but his strength would be valuable in their work.  Triss took comfort 
in knowing that she was here to balance about Dirg's incompetence, but it was 
frustrating being stuck with this brute.  Lightsaber in one hand, blaster in the other, 
she led the way towards the compound.  It took a great deal of subtlety to cross in the 
darkness with stormtroopers about; their body heat would still be visible to the 
stormtrooper gear.  Still, they trusted their feelings, and even Dirg managed to keep 
out of sight until it was safe to move.  Within minutes they were within ten meters of 
the stormtrooper guard.  She nodded to Dirg, who shrunk further back into the shadows, 
while she pulled out her lightsaber.  She called on the power of her hatred, reminding 
herself what the Empire had done to her people, the suffering it had brought her.  The 
anger gave her strength, and with an expression of righteous fury she broke from cover 
and swung, apparently wildly, yet each stroke felled a stormtrooper until they'd all 
been killed.  Dirg broke into a run and the two made their way across to the tower.  
Working in tandem, they took the load of charges out of Dirg's pack and attached them 
all around the base of the tower.  While he finished Triss grabbed the rest and 
sprinted across to the back-up, using the Force to propel her jump so she could catch 
the edge of the roof.  She pulled herself up, placed the rest of the charges even as 
the alarm began sounding.  She ignored it and jumped off the building, easily absorbing 
the impact.  She tore away from the building as Dirg activated the charges, taking out 
both communication towers.  With the jamming field up and the transmitters out, the 
base would be cut off until they could get an emergency transmitter going.
	Even as Triss made her escape, the next group moved in, which was Mareth and 
Jowana.  Both were armed with lightsabers, having shown a great enough proficiency for 
this assignment.  They would need to prove it however, as they would have to fight 
their way to the lower levels to take out the base's transport scrambler.  Rather than 
risking the high-traffic entrance the troopers would be guarding, they used their 
lightsabers to make their own door, leading them into a maintenance closet.  They 
slipped out, only to spot two stormtroopers waiting in the hallway.  Jowana knocked 
them over with a Force push even while Mareth raced forward, slicing the prone forms 
where they lay.  They rushed to the turbolift and dropped to the lower level.  Two more 
stormtroopers waited, but they met the same quick end.
	While the two Sith slipped into the bowels of the base, Torda and Aren Jod, a 
Ventaxian, were outside the base, wreaking havoc.  They slipped from cover to cover, 
sniping at the stormtroopers to create confusion.  After a while Dirg and Triss got 
into the act, keeping the Imperial forces off balance.  It wouldn't last for long, but 
then, it didn't need to.  Still the Sith initiates put forth their best.  After two 
false starts Torda managed to Force jump to the top of a small building, using the 
extra height to pick off a few more stormtroopers.  However, he was quickly forced to 
abandon the spot when the troopers started using heavy weapons.  
	While Torda and Aren sowed mischief, Triss and Dirg concentrated on the 
troopers who were trying to set up the emergency beacon.  This would keep the 
reinforcements from the main base from learning of the attack until the Sith were 
already gone, but it was still proving difficult.  Dirg stepped out to get a better 
shot.  Triss cursed at him to get back under cover, but he was shot in the chest before 
he could move.  He hit the ground dead.  
	As expected, overconfidence got the better of more than just Dirg in the end.  
Mareth stepped around the corner for the last leg of the trip, and was met by a 
stormtrooper patrol.  She managed to react quickly, but it was only enough to save her 
life, not everything.  She flew back, her black outfit stained with green blood that 
poured from the wound where her left arm used to be.  Still, she had Sith force 
techniques to dull the pain while she pulled a medpak out and stopped the bleeding.  
Jowana was already moving in; she couldn't afford to stop and help her colleague, even 
if she was a friend.  The hall was filled with blaster fire, but she skipped through it 
unscathed, her red lightsaber a blur as she covered the distance and sliced through 
them with apparent ease.  She cut through the door, strode up to the transport 
scrambler, and stabbed it with her blade, causing a small explosion.  With it, the Sith 
lowered their jamming field, otherwise there would be no point in stopping the 
transport scrambler.
	Jowana took a quick, yet cautious, jog back down the hall, her commlink in her 
hand.  "Scrambler is down," she informed her.  "But so is Mareth."
	"Dead?" Molly asked.
	"Wounded.  She's out of this fight."
	"I can make it!" the Romulan replied with passion in her eyes.
	"I'll continue as planned," Jowana said, ignoring her.  "Assuming you can get a 
lock on her."  In response, Mareth disappeared with a scream of anger.  Jowana didn't 
so much as stop to catch her breath as she headed back towards the turbolift.
	Yelsar, the Bajoran, had been part of the pah-wraith cult before Ben had found 
him.  He had attributed his power to their approval rather than his use of untapped 
Force potential, but it gave him an advantage.  He accelerated quickly through his 
training, grasping some of the more difficult concepts already.  It was one of the 
advantages of having faithful on hand, they were more open to the seemingly irrational.  
He'd been partnered with Di'Bol, the Takaran for perhaps the most dangerous part of the 
assignment.  With the transport scrambler down, the two were beamed into the command 
center.  With Di'Bol providing cover fire Yelsar called upon the power of the Force to 
create a violent whirlwind that knocked the Imperials off their feet.  It was the work 
of seconds for Di'Bol to eliminate the resisters, even with them flying about on the 
rushing air.  Yelsar dropped his hands and the bodies tumbled out of the air to the 
floor.  Di'Bol pulled the code cylinder from the major's uniform and deactivated the 
alarms; it wouldn't do much good with the base itself, but it would help in a moment.  
	At the all clear signal from Yelsar the droid beamed into the command center.  
Without a word from the Sith it rolled over and plugged into the computer, downloading 
the Sith command codes into its system.  The door opened and the two Sith whirled, but 
they didn't fire; they could sense it was Jowana.  She was breathing heavy, but she'd 
obviously made sure that any of the stormtroopers heading for the command center had 
been routed.  "Are we ready?" she managed to ask between gasps.
	The droid rolled back and beeped.  "I think so," Yelsar said, signaling the 
ship.  Across the base, the Sith were beamed out of the firefight where the stood.  
Immediately upon arrival, the slicer droid rolled over to the ship's computer and used 
it to tap in to the Imperial network.  Using the command codes and its slicing 
protocols, it quickly pierced the network and downloaded huge amounts of data into the 
ship's computer: ship deployments, convoy routes, the defenses for dozens of sectors.  
Less than seven minutes later security lockouts cut them off, but by then they'd 
retrieved even more than they'd hoped for.  The ship lifted off even as Imperial 
fighters, no doubt tracking the infiltration back to its source, moved in to eliminate 
them.  The Cardassians quickly downloaded the information onto datapads while they 
broke for orbit, TIE fire pounding at their shields.  
	Molly stood at the transport controls, trying to translate the position in her 
mind with the coordinates of the computer.  Despite the cloak, she knew where the ship 
was; Ben's mind was like a single star in an empty sky.  She finally matched it up in 
the computer.  "Lower the shields," she ordered.  The instant they fell she activated 
the controls and the crew vanished.  Seconds later, so did the ship, although with an 
explosion of superheated metal and expanding vapor.  Ben set the course and the cloaked 
ship vanished into hyperspace.  Once in hyperspace he deactivated the cloak, then left 
his chair.  Leaving the ship in the hands of the Cardassian pilots, he walked back to 
meet with the other crew.
	There was no mistaking the self-congratulatory looks on most of their faces.  
Even Mareth, who was being treated by the physician, seemed pleased they'd succeeded.  
"Well?" he said.
	"My lord," said the Cardassian, "we've got enough information here to sow chaos 
throughout the quadrant."
	"Good," Ben said, still walking down the lines looking over his students.  They 
were a sweaty, disheveled mess, but they'd proven themselves for the most part.  For 
the most part&  "What of Dirg?" he asked.
	"He didn't make it, master," Triss said.
	"What do you mean?" Ben asked, drawing out the moment.  
	"He died, master.  He acted foolishly and paid with his life."
	"He was too sure of his strength," Ben said with a nod.  "Let that be a lesson 
to all of you: a Sith only works from a position of strength.  Whether it is your 
strength of arms, or strength of numbers, or strength of the Force, or strength of 
secrecy, you do not fight where you are weakened.  If you do not know where your 
strength lies, then you will fall."  There were nods and murmurs of agreement.  
"However, I also told you you were to ensure that your partners made it back alive.  I 
see Jowana brought back Mareth, but you, Triss, have failed me."
	"Master," Triss replied, "Dirg was a fool.  I could do nothing-"
	"He was your partner," Ben interrupted.  "Why is he not here?"
	"Master, there was nothing I could do!  I was partnered with an idiot!"
	"You failed me," Ben said.  "The rest is detail."  He could now sense her fear, 
because she could sense his anger.  He hid his satisfaction at the emotion, at the way 
she further pulled herself into darkness.
	"Master," she pleaded, "I will not fail you again!"  She let out a scream as 
Force lightning came from Ben's hand and wrapped around her, tossing her through the 
air into the bulkhead.
	"Yes," Ben said coldly, and then blasted her again.  She screamed in agony as 
the energy coursed through her body.  He continued, feeling the reactions of the Sith, 
mixed though they were, with the underlying fear that it could be them lying on the 
floor in torment.  And it could be, he thought, if you fail me as well.  Of course, 
this had been deliberate; Dirg's progress was far too slow to be worth the time; let 
them learn something in his death, at least.  Smoke began to fill the air, until 
finally he stopped, leaving the Mistryl to lie on the floor in a panting, whimpering 
state.  "Fail me again," he growled to them all, "and I will not be so merciful."


CHAPTER XIII

	Darkness gave way to consciousness, but it took a while to get to lucidity from 
where Sebastian had started from.  Still, as the minutes passed he became more aware of 
his surroundings.  He was still on board their ship, the Raven.  That name had been a 
source of some minor disagreement between him and his Klingon friend.  Gorren had names 
like "The Righteous Fist" and "Kahless' Vengeance" in mind.  Sebastian had pointed out 
that they were trying to maintain a low profile and that those kinds of names tended to 
attract attention.  Besides, the ship was a light freighter whose best chance of 
killing their enemies was accidentally landing on them.  Sebastian had decided on 
naming it after his grandparent's ship, in remembrance of their own rebellious status 
among the Federation.  Explorers outside of the official government, and now he was a 
defender of a government that wanted him dead.  It had almost succeeded, although 
Sebastian had given them a little help on that.
	Right, the crash, he thought as his stream of consciousness brought him back 
around to the moment.  He was on board the Raven, and he was getting treated.  He could 
feel the various equipment being applied to his broken body, but it was detached, as if 
his body was miles away from where he was right now.  There was a dull ache, though, 
and he knew this was even after some kind of pain killer had been administered.  
Gradually he focused on the random shapes above him, and it gradually coalesced into a 
more familiar blur.  "Han?"
	"How you doin' kid?" his uncle asked with that familiar smirk.  He put a hand 
on Sebastian's shoulder; it hurt, but that didn't outweigh the comfort of the familial 
grip.  
	"Had a disagreement with the ground... then a tree, and then some more ground.  
And possibly another tree, but I was a bit distracted."
	"Yes, you're in my lucky-to-be-alive ward," Bashir said.  "You've got multiple 
compound fractures and have lost a lot of blood.  If it weren't for your physiology 
taking after your mother, you'd probably not have made it."
	"You almost didn't," Han said.  "Gorren caught us just as we were preparing to 
move on."
	"We were very fortunate," Gorren agreed.  "I don't know of anywhere else safe I 
could have brought you."
	"You've get friends on Qo'nos," Sebastian slurred.  "You're resourceful."
	"It's safer here than on the Klingon homeworld," Bashir remarked.  It was hard 
to think, but the statement fired a few synapses.  Right, he thought, the Klingons 
broke away from the Empire, just like hundreds of other systems.  That was going to 
mean one of two things: retaliation by Imperial forces, or a bloody power struggle 
among the local authorities.  
	"How goes your work?" Gorren asked Han.
	"Straight down the sewer," Han rumbled.  "Every lead we have ends with a door 
slammed in our faces."
	"It seems that Nom Anor was everywhere and nowhere all at the same time," 
Bashir said.  
	"With those duplicates," Han said, "it's pretty much like he was."
	A heavy silence hung over the group at the remark.  Bashir was the one who 
eventually broke it.  "Did you lose anyone?" he asked Han.
	"Not really," he said.  "I don't have many friends left these days.  You?"
	"Joan and Orin," Bashir said.  "Two of my friends on the Charity.  Good 
doctors, good people."
	"My niece," Gorren said.  "Part of the revolutionary movement.  A pity she 
wasn't able to see its success."
	Two out of three, Sebastian thought.  Nom Anor's duplicates had touched so many 
lives, and brought so much grief to the galaxies.  And not only did he steal them away, 
but he stole their knowledge as well.  The Vong had launched eighteen successful 
attacks since the chaos that had followed their activation a few months back.  The 
Empire was trying to hold on to itself, and face wars on multiple fronts.  Even Garak's 
groups had gotten back up to their old tricks with the return of their leader.  Jacen's 
fledgling Jedi academy wasn't going to make a dent in this.  They needed Ben Sisko now 
more than ever, but he was gone.  They were on their own.  
	Well, not completely on their own.  It was Sebastian's job to get them through 
this, but being a wanted man made that rather difficult, and even if he wasn't, what 
good could one man do against all this?  Everything he'd worked to do, bringing in 
Garak, stopping the Vong expansion, all it did was delay things.  And with Sisko gone 
the Empire was crumbling, so he didn't even have access to the Imperial resources any 
more.  What good could he expect to do?
	Sebastian realized his thoughts had become much clearer and he sat up a bit to 
assess the situation.  Bashir had done a great job so far; aside of some soreness in 
his joints, he felt much better.  Bashir was looking over his right leg now; he had 
that look Sebastian had seen dozens of times when visiting his mother.  "Something 
wrong?" he asked.
	Bashir turned back to look at him, visibly uneasy.  "There's no easy way to say 
this," he said with a downcast expression.  "Your wounds have been infected with the 
fungal disease."
	Sebastian didn't realize he was holding his breath until he finally let out a 
deep sigh and fell back down on the bed.  He was still light-headed, and this news 
hadn't helped.  "There's still something you can do though, right?" Han asked.  "It's 
still early in the infection."
	"Yes, there's two options available to us," Bashir said.  "Although at the rate 
of spreading we have less than an hour.  I can treat this without a problem if we can 
get him to a bacta tank."
	"That would mean a hospital," Sebastian remarked, still laying back on the bed.  
"There's a chance I'd be recognized."
	"Not necessarily," Bashir said.
	"It's a chance we can't take," Gorren said emphatically.  "Not unless there's 
no other option."
	"Wait, this is Ferenginar," Han said.  "If you can't buy it here, it can't be 
sold.  Can't we get one off the black market?"
	"In less than an hour?" Bashir asked.  "And install it properly?  I wouldn't 
count on it."
	"What's the other option?" Sebastian asked.
	Bashir hesitated a moment.  "Amputation."  Sebastian closed his eyes, he'd been 
afraid of that.  Again, it was Bashir who broke the silence.  "Sebastian, we can use 
the bacta tank.  For credits the Ferengi would look the other way."
	"And for more credits, they'd turn me in," Sebastian said, his eyes still 
closed.  "It won't work."
	"I hate to say it," Han remarked, "but I think he's right."
	Bashir nodded.  "Then we have only one other choice."  He noticed there were 
tears in Sebastian's eyes.  "We can replace it," he said.  "Organic limbs are 
available-"
	"No, we tried that with Anakin," Han interrupted.  "The limb was rejected... 
they think it had something to do with the Force and foreign tissue.  It has to be 
cybernetic."
	"All right," Bashir said.  "The point is, we can replace it."
	"I know," Sebastian said, wiping his eyes.  "But if you think that makes this 
any easier, you're crazy."
	"I understand," Bashir said.
	"No, you don't!" Sebastian snapped.  He dropped his hand on his forehead as he 
lay there.  "I'm sorry.  Please, just get it over with."
	Bashir nodded, pulling out a datapad.  "I'll need a few things, Han," he said 
as he entered the information.  He passed it over.  "Can you get them?"
	Han was nodding as he looked it over.  "Like I said, if it can't be bought 
here, it can't be sold."  He gave Sebastian's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, then 
gestured for Gorren to join him.  
	Bashir pulled out a hypospray.  "This won't hurt," he promised.
	"Yes," Sebastian said, "it will."  

	With the destruction of the Bajoran space station, Lando Calrissian had moved 
his operations into the Beta Quadrant.  Nobody ever talked about the Beta Quadrant; the 
Alpha Quadrant (at least, what they usually called the Alpha Quadrant) was the hotbed, 
where the different forces lived in an uneasy truce forced upon it by the Empire.  The 
Gamma Quadrant was quiet; the Empire was positively benevolent compared to the Dominion 
and their Jem'hadar, especially near the end.  And without the Borg the Delta Quadrant 
was fairly relaxed too, although the Hirogen and holographic attacks did require a 
constant Imperial presence.  
	That was what was nice about the distant Beta Quadrant, you could go unnoticed, 
which is what Lando wanted at his time of life.  He was getting too old to try toppling 
governments, and he came out here so he could leave that life behind.  Besides, the 
Empire was in shambles, and no amount of prodding on his part was going to make any 
difference.  Sure, he could sabotage the H-Wing fighters in his factories, but that 
would paint a big fat target on Lando's forehead for the Imperials.  Best to leave it 
to the experts, like Anor and the Sith.  However, while Lando considered himself out of 
it, others didn't quite see it that way.
	Garak was waiting in Lando's office in the morning; sitting in his chair, of 
course.  That was Garak's way, let the situation say it so you don't have to.  "I can 
get to you.  I can get anywhere."
	"What the hell are you doing here?" Lando demanded wearily.  He knew why, of 
course, but some distant part of him seemed to wish the question could banish the 
Cardassian. 
	"Just making sure we're all still on the same page," Garak said.  "I would have 
been here sooner, but it seems that some of the members of my organization thought my 
incarceration was a sign they could assume control."  He leaned back in the chair, 
putting his feet up on the desk.  "Oh, I wish it were so," he sang quietly.  "But alas, 
I'm afraid duty still calls me to see this through until the end.  If only they'd seen 
it that way; we could have avoided some messy misunderstandings."
	"Well, here's something you can't misunderstand," Lando said, knocking Garak's 
feet off his desk.  "I'm out!"
	"Absolutely," Garak said.  "You're a business man now.  I respect that."
	"And that means I'm not getting involved with your organization."
	"That's perfectly fine.  Ties severed, going our separate ways, I understand 
completely.  Our partnership is dissolved."
	"Don't think you can manipulate me," Lando warned.  "I know where this is 
going."
	"Do you?  I seem to be surrounded by people who can see the future."
	"You can't threaten me, you can't intimidate me," Lando said.  "The Empire's 
got more on its hands right now than you, so trying to blackmail me isn't going to work 
this time."
	"I understand.  I'm here merely as a potential client."
	Lando let out a laugh edged with bitterness.  "I'm sure you are."
	"Really.  I have revenue that I need to invest, and I know a good venture when 
I see one."
	"Ah, that's your game, is it?  You want me to wash your money."
	"Let's just say I'd like to keep things on the up-and-up."
	"Not if I was down to my last decicred," Lando said as he leaned across the 
desk.  "It's over, Garak.  I'm sitting the rest of this out."
	"Well, I can't say I'm not disappointed," Garak said as he stood up.  "But I'm 
sure you have your reasons.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a few errands to run."
	"Don't think you can scare me, Garak," Lando warned.
	"Yes yes, much as I'm enjoying this exchange, I'm going to have to cut this 
short.  Good day, Mr. Calrissian."
	Lando watched Garak exit.  He could try to tip someone off or have his security 
forces try to nab him, but Lando still knew enough about odds not to gamble on it.  He 
dropped into his chair instead and contacted his VP of operations.  "Sridhar?  It's 
Calrissian.  Yeah, he finally showed.  We're going to want security raised across the 
company, every factory, every warehouse, the works.  Garak isn't going to sucker us 
back into anything."

	Darkness turned to light and Sebastian took in the ceiling of the Raven.  He 
glanced around and saw he was alone.  He tried sitting up but was too woozy and had to 
lie down again.  But he had to… he reached down and pulled the sheet aside, and he 
strained to see.  It looked right… he flexed it, and it felt right.  Mostly.  But it 
wasn't really him, it was machinery, replacing what he had been.  It was one thing to 
be cybernetic, it was another to lose a part of yourself.
	What do they do with it? he wondered as he lay back on the bed.  Do they gather 
them together in mass graves?  Some future archaeologist comes along and finds a pile 
of arms and legs with no bodies to go with it?  They probably just cremate it or 
something, something sanitary and "respectful," no doubt following the rules laid down 
by people who had all their parts.  Of course, this was nothing new for the Jedi… his 
father had had it, Anakin… but it was different, somehow.  Different because it was a 
choice, even if it was a necessity.  With a lightsaber it's over before you can think, 
and it's dealing with the consequences; no Jedi had to ever voluntarily give it away, 
had to willingly sacrifice a part of himself to preserve the whole.  
	"They're going to take it all away from you, Sebastian."  It wasn't enough, was 
it, to take his father, and leave his mother near death… to negate his life's work and 
turn him into a fugitive who couldn't see his wife in daylight or visit his dying 
mother without a firefight.  No, they had to take away a bit of his humanity too, a 
piece of himself.  And here he was, in his grief, without being able to turn to the 
woman he loves for comfort, to give him a little of her strength so he could carry on.  
How can you do this, Ben?  How can you ask anyone to fight for a galaxy that stood 
against them, without even the smallest of comforts?  What is there to fight for?
	"You know what it is?" a voice answered.
	Sebastian sat up, his light-headedness gone.  "Father?"
	"Don't give in to despair, son.  You know what path that is."
	Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut, but the rollercoaster ride of emotion left 
him with little reserves.  "I can't walk this path, father," he sobbed.  "It's too 
hard!"
	"I wish with all my being, son, that I could take this burden upon myself 
instead.  But it's been laid before you."
	"No," Sebastian said weakly.
	"They need you."
	"'They' want me dead!"
	"They will learn the truth in time.  Truth has a longer half life than lies."
	"Even so, what difference would it make?  Look at me, I can't even fly through 
the jungle without nearly killing myself?!  What kind of Jedi am I?"
	"Human," his father answered.  "And that is not where your strength lies, 
Sebastian.  You are a fine warrior, and a great tactician, both of which will aid you 
during your trials.  But your strength, son, is not in the power over matter, but power 
over spirit.  You dwarf my feeble skills."
	"You moved a moon!"
	"But you will move civilizations.  Sisko laid the groundwork, but Unity can 
only come from within, and it will take you to help them find it."
	"What difference can one person make?" Sebastian demanded.
	"In your case, son, it makes all the difference.  They don't need a hero, 
Sebastian, just a man they believe in to show the way."
	Sebastian rubbed his weary eyes.  "Just tell me it'll get easier."  He was 
answered by silence.  "It won't, will it.  It's only going to get harder, right?  As 
bad as losing a leg is, it's going to get even worse."
	"Yes," his father said quietly.  "But don't despair, my son.  You have already 
shown how strong you can be against the Vong."
	"And yet I still broke," Sebastian said.  "Father... I can't do this."
	"Sebastian," his father said, "you are stronger than I ever was.  You can do 
this... you will be instrumental in saving the galaxies.  May the Force be with you, my 
son."
	Sebastian felt the hypospray discharge as he returned to consciousness.  Bashir 
was looking at him with as reassuring an expression as he could.  "It's finished," he 
said.  "You can try walking, if you feel like it."
	Sebastian nodded but said nothing as he pulled himself up and gingerly stepped 
to the floor.  His steps were shaky, mostly from exhaustion and the ordeal of his body.  
His leg hurt, but oddly enough it was his real one.  He soon found himself using his 
cybernetic limb to hold his weight.  He let out a small laugh at the thought.  "How 
long until I can go out again?" he asked.
	"I'd stay off your feet for a few days," Bashir said.  "Your body needs time to 
adjust to the new limb.  But don't worry, I've done this hundreds of times, and I've 
yet to have a rejection."
	Sebastian nodded.  "Doctor, what happened to my old leg?  I want to know."
	Bashir cleared his throat.  "For sanitary reasons we cremate the limb.  When I 
was with the McCoy foundation, we developed a… I wouldn't call it ritual, but it was 
what we did.  We mixed the ashes with a drop of the patient's blood and placed it in a 
small capsule and inserted it inside the cybernetics.  It seemed more befitting given 
the trauma of the loss."
	"Did you do that with me?" Sebastian asked.
	"Yes," Bashir said.
	"Good.  I like that thought."


CHAPTER XIV

	An emergency session of the senate had been called, although these days 
everything seemed an emergency.  Leia Organa Solo hadn't slept in two days, trying to 
keep the Imperial organization running smoothly even in the midst of collapse.  Ben 
Sisko had left a great deal unprepared for his death, and she couldn't help shaking the 
feeling that it was by design.  Had her suspicions been correct, that he had done this 
to help destroy the Empire?  But why?  The Vong were far worse than the Empire he had 
forged during the nearly three decades of his rule.  But whatever the reasons, trying 
to hold off the shattering of the Empire seemed a more and more impossible challenge.  
Today was going to be the latest effort to resist it, and no doubt the hardest.
	"Members of the Imperial Senate," the Chancellor said, "thank you for your 
attendance.  This special session has been called at the request of Minister Solo, who 
has been handling many of the responsibilities of the Emperor in the wake of his 
passing.  She has requested an audience to discuss a matter of some urgency regarding 
the war effort.  Minister?"
	Leia stood up.  "Esteemed senators," she said by way of introduction.  "As you 
no doubt know, the so-called 'Vong duplicates' that had been inserted amongst us have 
been gathered together on the planet Kolyet in the Delta Quadrant of the Milky Way.  
Their powerful planetary shield has not only made intelligence gathering next to 
impossible, but it also prevents any possible bombardment by our fleet.  What we do 
know, however, is that the planet has been completely co-opted by the Vong forces 
there; no one who is not Vong or one of the constructs is present on this world."
	"How can you be certain?" Sen. Alixus asked.
	"Senator," the Chancellor said, "please hold your comments until the end."
	"It is not a comment, it's a question," Alixus replied.  "As I suspect the 
minister's entire proposal is based on that assumption, I'd like to know by what 
reasoning it was obtained."
	"Our scans of the planet do not indicate any other life signs."
	"But the shield is very powerful," Alixus pointed out.  "Isn't it possible the 
Vong have relocated the population into underground bunkers to use as hostages, and the 
sensors can't detect them."
	"There is no sign of any such activities."
	"But it's possible," Alixus said with emphasis.  "It's possible that Imperial 
citizenry is present on that world."
	"Senator," the Chancellor said, "let the minister finish."
	Alixus nodded gracefully and Leia continued.  "The Vong duplicates existed for 
one purpose: to gain insight into the operations of government, military, and 
industrial facilities.  Already the Vong forces in this galaxy have used that 
information to their advantage, and will continue to do so.  The Vong communication 
system is not based on any type of technology we're familiar with, so our efforts at 
jamming their transmissions have failed.  What's more, we have observed the Vong on 
Kolyet using yorrik coral to grow more ships to support the Vong war effort.  In short, 
this planet poses a real threat to the Imperial war effort, one that is beyond the 
reach of our conventional forces.  We cannot ignore this threat, and our blockade of 
the world is all but useless.  That, regretably, leaves only one viable option: the use 
of one of our two remaining superlasers."
	As expected, the room exploded.  Feverish arguments were breaking out even 
amongst some of the senatorial aides.  Leia had known this would be the reaction; it 
was the reason she'd waited before bringing it forward.  But they had no choice, not 
unless they wanted to let the Vong win this war.  After a few minutes the Chancellor's 
cries for order were heeded, although there was still an undercurrent of hostility 
throughout the room.
	"I am aware of the gravity of the situation," Leia continued.  "And believe me 
when I say that I would never wish this weapon to be used against anyone, even our 
enemies.  I have witnessed its destructive capabilities first-hand," she reminded them.  
If they had known how long she'd agonized over this choice, they might understand, but 
her opponent's would probably only think it political rhetoric.  "But we are faced with 
an enemy that wishes to take away our freedom, our very lives, and has the means to do 
so.  Given this choice, necessity demands that we employ this weapon to ensure the 
survival of our people."
	"[When will the weapon be used?]" asked Senator Morah Bindal of Ithoria.
	"That is why I am here," Leia said.  "To maintain control, especially given 
Grand Moff Tarkin's abuse of authority with Alderaan, the Emperor laid the proviso that 
the Superlaser can never be fired without his express permission.  This was to keep the 
final authority out of military hands and help prevent an attempted coup.  However, 
with the Emperor's death the question of procedure remains.  He appointed no successor, 
nor would there be any logical person to step in and assume that role, and I'm not 
entirely sure its a position we would want to continue.  But that is an issue for 
another time.  The matter before us is: where should this authority rest?  Placing it 
in the control of the military high command would negate the purpose of the Imperial 
authorization."
	"It should be placed in our hands," Sen. Alixus said.  "To ensure control of 
these weapons remains in the hands of the citizenry."
	"Respectfully, senator," Leia said, "that would be impractical.  It would mean 
providing a lengthy delay between assessing a target and executing the order.  Also, it 
would make these targets a public matter, which would allow our enemies to fortify 
their positions."
	"Or abandon them," Alixus said.  "Is that what concerns you, minister?  A lower 
death toll?"
	"Would that our enemies shared your compassion, senator," Leia said.  
"Unfortunately, they view us as inferiors that should either be enslaved or 
exterminated.  We cannot afford to hold back against such an enemy, especially when 
they show signs of gaining the upper hand over us."
	"They are our enemies today," Alixus replied.  "And what of tomorrow, when the 
Vong is no longer a threat to us?  Will Qo'nos be next?"
	"That is not the same thing," Leia answered.
	"No?  I read the history of your galaxy, minister.  The Empire that you 
rebelled against, that many of the worlds in this chamber fought against, came into 
existence because the Republic Senate chose to give total control to the then 
Chancellor for the immediate crisis.  When that crisis ended he instead continued to 
wield that power and eliminate any representation of the people.  Now you are asking 
the Imperial Senate to grant the same authority to someone with an even more 
devastating weapon than was in the Chancellor's hands."
	"The use of these weapons would remain limited," Leia said.  "And we would not 
turn them against rebellious worlds."
	"Who is 'we,' minister?" Alixus asked.  "It's you, isn't it?  You want us to 
place this authority in your hands."
	"I didn't ask for that-"
	"But that is what you're thinking, isn't it?  You were closest to the Emperor, 
you would be the natural choice."
	"If the senate feels someone else would be better suited," Leia replied, 
maintaining her calm demeanor, "then so be it."
	"How can we choose anyone to have such authority in these times?!" Alixus 
demanded.  "How do we know who tried to cover up Sebastian Skywalker's crimes?  How do 
we know who helped him escape?  Put the Eclipses in the wrong hands and we could soon 
face an enemy far worse than the Vong could ever be!"
	"I understand your concerns, senator," the Chancellor broke in, "but the 
minister is correct: the senate is ill-suited for such a responsiblity."
	"I disagree, chancellor," Alixus replied.  "In fact, I submit that the entire 
process was flawed.  Observe the near destruction of Lazeria that came about on order 
from the Emperor!  An Imperial world with 500 million inhabitants, and he was content 
to destroy it.  Ask them whether the procedure is wise."
	"The use of these weapons will be reserved solely for extreme circumstances, 
such as this one," Leia said emphatically.  "Already we have revealed to the Vong our 
intentions to destroy that world; next time this information could allow them to stop 
us."
	"Frankly, minister, stopping the use of these despicable weapons sounds like a 
blessing."
	"They are terrible," Leia conceded, "but they are a last resort for our 
survival."
	"Trust in our technology to save us," Alixus said with a condescending nod.  
"It's worked so well so far, hasn't it?"
	"Senator, we are all aware of your feelings on the subject," the Chancellor 
said.  "And your personal feelings on the issues of technology.  Please allow this 
discussion to continue without further interruption."  Alixus nodded again and the 
discussion continued.  It consisted mostly of more subtle versions of Alixus' own 
questions, which had no doubt been her intent.  When the senate adjourned, the 
Chancellor accompanied Leia out of the chamber.  "I think they will support it," he 
said as reassuringly as he could.
	Leia nodded.  "But it will take time."
	"You are the larger issue," he answered.  "Despite what you said in there, you 
want that authority."
	"No, I don't," she said.  "But I dare not put it in anyone else's hands.  
Alixus was right about one thing: Lazeria was a mistake, and not just because we lost 
an Eclipse.  I don't want these weapons turned against our people."
	The Chancellor agreed silently as they continued through the building.  "You're 
doing the right thing," he finally said.  "If you let them fire without securing 
approval we'll lose many more systems.  I can see how thin our authority is stretched; 
a sign of securing central power will be taken as a return to the old ways."
	"And without the legitimacy of our government," Leia said, "there's nothing 
stopping the military from assuming control.  But still, I hope this doesn't take long; 
Kolyet must be destroyed as soon as possible."

	Sebastian limped down the ramp of the Raven and noticed the sheets of rain 
coming all around the ship.  "Nice," he remarked to Gorren as the two raced towards the 
protection of the docking bay doors, then looked out across the city.  It was a drab, 
muddy affair with buildings designed for its shorter populace.  Still Sebastian was 
surprised, and said so.
	"What were you expecting?" Gorren said.
	"Well, this is the center of Ferengi civilization," Sebastian said.  "I thought 
it wouldn't be so subdued."
	"It's the rain," Gorren said.
	"Yeah, but still... I was expecting, I don't know... ancient Las Vegas, only 
not as tasteful."  He shrugged.  "Big lights even."
	"Bah.  A Ferengi would never put out big lights; why let people see for 
nothing?"
	Ferenginar and the Ferengi territories had fallen just like everyone else when 
the Imperial fleet rolled through the Alpha Quadrant.  As always, however, they landed 
on their feet.  Aside of the Imperial taxes, business went on as usual, and as far as 
Ferengi were concerned, as long as business went on that was all that mattered.  This 
was especially true after the destruction of Deep Space 9, when a visit by Grand Nagus 
Rom fatally coincided with the Imperial plot to frame the Cardassians.  Rom had 
continued his predecessors reform policies, but the sudden power vacuum had allowed 
hard-line Ferengi reactionaries to brush them aside and return to the old ways.  They 
quickly forged business agreements with everyone from the Corporate Sector to Black 
Sun, and profits rolled into Ferenginar so that credits were falling like the unending 
rain.  If it weren't for the insufferable taxes, this would almost be paradise for 
them.
	It was no wonder, then, that Nom Anor had had many business dealings with the 
Ferengi during his years of preparation.  The ISB confirmed it was a Ferengi group that 
had seized control of the Doctor's mobile emitter, the device which proved responsible 
for allowing the holographic rebels to perform their operations.  It was the reason Han 
and Bashir had come to this world, on the off chance that some clue to a cure for this 
disease might be found.  The odds were slim, of course; the Ferengi would have seized 
upon it years ago and use it to make a fortune.  But there was always the off chance 
they didn't know quite what they had that had compelled Han to try.  Still, ISB sources 
had other tracks of Nom Anor here, and Sebastian was prepared to chase down every last 
one.  
	"Any experience with the Ferengi?" Sebastian asked.
	Gorren answered with another "Bah!"  It seemed to sum up the attitude of 
Klingons towards Ferengi in general.  "They robbed us blind selling us weapons," he 
said with a grunt.  "But they are cowards.  But since they know they're cowards, they 
are smart enough to make large friends.  Nossagins, Trandoshans, we'll have to be ready 
for battle if we decide to use force on them."
	"We'll see… the Ferengi may love credits, but they might not have very strong 
minds.  They might give up information voluntarily."
	"A Ferengi never gives anything up voluntarily," Gorren spat.  "They'd charge 
you to breathe their air if they thought they could get away with it."
	"Thanks for the reminder."  Sebastian slid on his breathing mask to keep his 
identity a secret.  The Ferengi would be tripping over themselves to turn him in and 
claim the reward if they knew who he was.  Gorren had changed his hairstyle and didn't 
wear his family crest, a sacrifice Sebastian had appreciated.  Now more than ever he 
needed his Klingon friend at his side, and Gorren was all the more determined to be 
there despite the revolution on his homeworld.  "My Klingon brothers and sisters can 
handle this revolution without me," he'd told Sebastian, "but only I am here to help 
recover your lost honor.  I go where I am needed."
	"Are you sure you are ready?" Gorren asked.  "You were badly injured even for a 
warrior."
	"I don't have time to wait around to heal," Sebastian said.  "So let's try not 
to let this turn violent."
	"I will try," Gorren said, "but these little orange men get on my nerves."

	On Kolyet, Nom Anor watched the recordings of the senate proceedings.  The 
minister was correct, of course; Vong technology could easily cut through the human's 
jamming signal.
	Nom Anor cursed himself; how many times had he caught himself using that 
blasphemous word?  Worse, how many times had he used it and not noticed?  His time 
among these inferiors was starting to get to him, and he didn't like it.  And now, he 
was depending on it for his very existence, and for the preservation of his plan.  When 
he conquered the Empire he would have their engineers and technicians rounded up first 
and made an example of.  Their pollution would be answered for before he was finished 
cleansing the galaxies.
	His anger passed, and he replayed the part of the debate he had missed.  
Excellent; Alixus was holding up admirably, distorting the picture each time the 
minister tried to bring it into focus.  Such a pathetic display, trying to find an 
answer to a thousand disagreements that would satisfy all.  Didn't they understand what 
they were up against?  The Vong may have disagreements, but they were always united in 
their goal.  They would take over the galaxy to the glory of their gods and the benefit 
of the Vong; how was merely details.  But here… even without Alixus prodding, many were 
actually agreeing with her!  They refused to use a weapon, not for strategic or 
tactical reasons, or even issues of supplies or resources.  They didn't want to use it 
simply because they didn't like it!  Some of these beings were even weaker than Nom 
Anor had imagined, not to mention stupid.  They refused to use the weapon precisely 
because it did what it was designed to do!  With these as their enemy, it was a wonder 
the Vong had been held back for this long.
	Still, this was exactly what Nom Anor needed.  The Hive, as he'd come to think 
of it, had been making progress, but there was still so much more to do.  The separate 
organisms had combined together and merged to form a single, creature the size of a 
large city.  It was essentially a hill of biomatter, with individual sections of it 
breaking off as needed to perform tasks, such as gathering information out of the 
planetary archives for absorption into the Hive as a whole.  Others would tend to the 
coralships on other parts of the planet being grown for their escape.  Alixus was 
buying them time, but she couldn't keep them away forever, and not even this world's 
shields could withstand the power of their superlasers.  They'd need to keep the Hive 
hidden until the Eclipses could be dealt with; it would be a great tool.  Like the 
yammosk, it would be able to control the coralskippers and Fan'cals without requiring 
Vong warriors.  Thanks to the information it had observed, it also would provide better 
strategic decisions and offer sounder tactical choices than the yammosk.  
Unfortunately, it lacked the yammosk's developed mental powers, meaning that it 
couldn't improve the battle coordination, or make use of the special beetles that 
Alixus had provided, but no matter.  This was a supplement for the yammosk, not a 
replacement.  
	But they would have to live to escape this world first, and the Imperial 
blockade was going to make that a challenge.  A challenge, but not an impossibility, 
not with what Nom Anor had in mind.  And each day delayed only made their success more 
and more of a certainty.



CHAPTER XV

	Julian Bashir watched the swearing, hunched over figure with a mixture of 
amusement and pity.  Han looked less like the rebel hero the legends painted him as and 
more like a hump-less Igor when he got to work on the Falcon, which was more and more 
common these days.  Keeping the Falcon spaceworthy had been a full time job for him and 
Annika during their searches for Nom Anor; with her in the hospital on Earth, it now 
seemed to be Han's sole reason for existence.  
	The technology jump had been too great for many people in the Milky Way, even 
for Bashir.  His engineering extension courses had given him a taste for Federation 
technology, and his genetic enhancements had made it simple to extrapolate from them.  
But the assimilation of their technology was a difficult bridge to cross.  Some, like 
Annika, had been involved from the beginning, and it had become second nature.  Miles 
O'Brien had been the same way, absorbing their technology as fast as it arrived, with 
the same old Irish curses accompanying the new stubborn technology.  Now it was 
probably too late; Federation technology had been absorbed into the Imperial system or 
discarded altogether.  
	Technology was what most people had seen during that transition, but for Dr. 
Bashir contact with the Empire and Republic had opened up new ideas about medicine.  
Some were better, some were worse, but the different approaches sparked things in 
Julian, sent him off in new directions.  His papers had earned him brief stardom, and 
the Empire had frequently offered him high-ranking medical positions or research 
grants.  He'd turned them all down.  Even before Miles' death, he couldn't bring 
himself to work for them.  He couldn't shake the memory of DS9 exploding.  He'd heard 
about Jedi abilities, and had even seen them in action, and when that happened, it was 
like that for him.  He could feel Ezri Dax vanishing from existence.  Probably just his 
imagination, but he couldn't shake that feeling, and it drove him to no ends of hatred, 
hatred for the Cardassians and traitors of the Federation for their senseless 
brutality.  Then, when the truth came out, it had been centered on the Empire, whose 
reasons were even worse.  They killed his love, destroyed his life, for politics.  
	All those years ago, a young green Julian had taken an interest in Dax.  As 
much as he would have liked to admit to the contrary, it was lust, not love, that he 
felt for the woman.  Maybe that was why Dax brushed him aside, with all the years of 
the symbiont she could recognize what it really was in the young officer's eyes.  But 
maybe he'd planted the seed of something there, because when he turned to Ezri Dax, 
she'd seen that things had changed with him... he'd changed.  If Jadzia had gone ahead 
with a quick fling he'd have enjoyed her company and then moved on, but through the 
waiting and emotional maturing he'd found more in her when she came back to him as 
Ezri.  It was never a fling with Ezri, never anything less than true love.  Feeling her 
wink out of his life was something he could never get past.  He'd looked around many 
times at his friends.  Han, with three children; Annika, with a grandchild on the way, 
and Julian Bashir, an emotional widower for thirty years, and all because of the 
Empire.  So what the hell was he doing out here?
	Medicine.
	It had taken Annika to shake him out of his mental slump and realize he'd made 
a mistake.  Sure, he had done much good over the years at Bajor or with the McCoy 
foundation, but the small leaps he made back in his sickbay were nothing compared to 
what he could have accomplished.  He'd let the hatred poison him; that infuriating 
counselor Borui, had tried to tell him about it more than once, but he didn't want to 
listen.  How many lives would have been saved if he'd taken up even one offer from the 
Empire?  Thousands?  Millions?  Instead he plied his trade in the back end of nowhere 
out of some subtle form of vengeance, and that led people like Annika to face terminal 
diseases without hope.  Ironic, he thought, that he needed Ezri's counsel so much only 
because she wasn't there to give it.  Well, now he was here, and now he could do his 
damndest to make up for three decades of hate.  Not for the Empire; it could collapse 
for all he cared.  No, for the people like him caught in the crossfire.
	"Maybe we should find another ship," Bashir offered.
	Han was hunched over, his arms tangled in a collection of unidentified 
components, but still he managed to twist his head under his arm and glare at Bashir.  
"There's still plenty of years left in the old girl."
	"No offense, Han, but I think this ship is past its prime."
	"The Falcon was built to last," Han said sharply.  "The YT-line was a durable 
design and well-crafted.  It's a work of art."
	"Then perhaps it should be in a museum," Bashir said with a smirk.
	"Ha-ha," Han said as he got back to work.  "Listen, philistine, this ship has 
faced down Death Star I, Death Star II, the Executor, and the Borg.  All of them are 
gone, but the Falcon's still here.  How can you speak ill of a ship with that 
heritage?"
	"I would be more easily convinced if it could get us off this planet," Bashir 
pointed out.
	"Luke used to tell me that everything happened for a reason," Han said.  "I 
ain't one to believe in mystical nonsense, but he's convinced me that not everything is 
luck, good or bad.  Sometimes, some things just have to happen, even if we don't want 
them to."  He was quiet, still tangled in the equipment, but not moving.
	"Yes?" Bashir finally prompted.
	Han's eyes darted back to Bashir, then he got back to work.  "If the old bird 
hadn't had this problem, we wouldn't have been here for Bastian when he needed us, and 
he would have probably been seriously infected by that fungus, probably die."
	"You're saying the ship was broken on purpose?"
	"I'm saying this old girl has been through a lot, has never steered me wrong.  
Even when she couldn't perform, it was always for the best.  If I need something to 
count on, you can damn well bet it's going to be something that has gotten me through 
thick and thicker."
	Bashir nodded.  After all, wasn't it why he stayed in his old sickbay all those 
years?  To surround himself with the familiar and stay in the past, as close as he 
could be to his old friends... to Ezri...  "I think I'll look over some more of that 
information Sebastian gave us," Bashir said.  "The ISB may be bastards, but at least 
they have some valuable data on the Vong."  Han grunted something, and Bashir left him 
to his work.

	Anakin Solo entered the Jedi Academy with the usual dread he faced every 
morning.  Not always dread, of course; sometimes he wasn't so optimistic.
	After Jacen and Jaina had made the decision to begin training more Jedi, they 
had thrown themselves into finding potential students.  Anakin had been an integral 
part of that, having noticed some of the patterns the Sith had employed and using his 
own Force abilities.  Jaina had assisted him in the recruiting while Jacen had made 
preparations, but overall Anakin couldn't help but feel that he was leading these 
people to their deaths at best, or even worse, the Dark side.  
	Jacen himself seemed to be the biggest obstacle, although that wasn't to say he 
wasn't a skilled Jedi.  He had handled the administration admirably, and he had 
gathered up much of the old records of the Jedi and training methodologies for their 
use.  But Jacen's biggest problem seemed to be his vision.  Anakin could see what he 
had in mind: a huge company of Jedi, ready to go forth and bring peace to the galaxies.  
And, naturally, a council of Jedi at the heart of it all, making the big decisions, 
containing only the wisest and most powerful of their number.  Of course, who would 
that be, if not Jacen Solo?  Not that there was a problem with that vision; it would 
probably do the galaxy some good, and Jacen would be able to guide them effectively.  
But that vision was a stumbling block.  He was disappointed with the fact that Anakin 
had only located six candidates so far, and had made that abundantly clear.  Anakin, 
however, had stuck to his guns: prove they could handle this, and he'd go about finding 
more, but he wasn't going to risk it.  Anakin had a vision too, one of an army of dark 
Jedi sweeping through the galaxies, spreading fear and darkness to every corner.  As 
dedicated as Jacen was to making his dream real, Anakin was devoted to ensuring his 
never left the confines of his nightmares.
	Alema Rar was the one who filled him with both hope and wariness.  She was a 
Twi'lek who had survived on one of the Vong-held worlds until the Imperials had pushed 
them back.  She was strong with the Force, and learned her lessons well.  Jaina had 
taken to working with her separately, as it was clear she was moving light-years faster 
than most of her fellow students.  But she'd lost a sister to the Vong during their 
occupation, and Anakin feared what it would do to her when her thoughts dwelled on the 
alien invaders.  Controlling that hate was not going to be an easy challenge; even for 
Anakin, controlling his hatred for the Sith who had taken his limb hadn't been easy, 
and he'd been trained from youth by his wise uncle.  How did Jacen, whose mind dwelled 
on the grandiose, hope to guide his students over these problems?  But that was the 
real issue for Anakin; Jacen simply wasn't a good teacher.  He was impatient, and he 
played favorites, and it was left to Jaina and Anakin to keep the small company of 
students from getting frustrated with him.  There had been a heated argument when Jacen 
wanted to elevate he and his sister to the level of master, in keeping with the 
hierarchical nature of the Jedi.  Their mother had finally stepped in on that one and 
quickly quashed his ambitions.  However, that still did nothing to deflate his ego.
	Anakin had found two of the students here on Chandrilla, although neither were 
natives.  One was Pallo, from Dantooine by birth but brought here with his parents to 
join in the booming industries surrounding the new capital.  He seemed to show promise, 
but he wasn't moving very fast in his studies, and even though he was one of the first 
students, he was being passed by the others rather quickly.  Still, Jaina had said that 
she had hope for the young man, and had taken time to work with him during her free 
time.  That helped curb the frustrations Anakin often felt from the young man, not to 
mention Jacen's attitude.
	The other student was a Terran named Shaote Lu.  He'd been the nephew of the 
senator seventeen years ago and had come with his family to the capital.  Even after 
his uncle had been voted out of office, the family stayed, enjoying the prosperity of 
the world.  Having spent most of his life here rather than Earth, he lacked many of the 
Terran quirks that had held over from the Federation days of the planet.  He was 
peaceful, introspective, yet he could be passionate at times when it came to his 
studies.  His progress was remarkable, and Anakin had a good feeling about him.  Anakin 
worked with him individually when there was time; if this worked, Shaote would make an 
excellent teacher for the academy, although he kept that thought to himself.
	Other students had taken some work to locate.  Oria Nan was a recently joined 
Trill when Anakin and Jaina approached him.  The Nan symbiont had been part of 
Starfleet in three prior hosts and Oria was an athletic young man.  The idea of being 
one of the first of the Milky Way to join the Jedi was intriguing to both, as was the 
idea of physical and mental discipline it would require, not a problem for someone who 
had worked through the program and emerged with a symbiont.  Still, even for him the 
program was a challenge, but he was disciplined enough to continue to work at it 
despite the frustrations Jedi training often brought.
	Another promising student was Laudica Reshad, a Corellian.  She had spent most 
of her childhood on ships with her parents and traveled the lanes with an ease often 
not seen in people ten years her senior.  Still, Laudica was hotheaded by nature, but 
was learning to keep herself under control.  Anakin suspected Jacen had a thing for 
her, which was its own mess.  On the one hand, it kept her from getting frustrated at 
his behavior and helped her practice restraint.  On the other, Anakin knew it was 
probably going to only lead to trouble if Jacen tried acting on his feelings.  As was 
often the case, Anakin bit his tongue and concentrated on the work that needed to be 
done, and there was usually a lot of it.
	Strangest of all was Sakonna.  She was older than the three Jedi put together, 
but considering she was a Vulcan, that didn't mean as much.  Anakin had been surprised 
the Force had led him to her, as she was actually from the time before the discovery of 
the wormhole.  He'd been concerned she'd be filled with Federation preconceptions that 
could cause strife, but it turned out she was a bit of a rebel herself.  She'd been 
part of a group called the Maquis that had fought the Cardassians and later the 
Dominion.  Fortunately for her, she'd been captured by the Federation rather than their 
enemies, or she probably wouldn't have survived.  Instead she had been sent to a 
Federation penal colony, only to be released when the Emperor's order regarding 
political prisoners was sent out.  That the Emperor was the same Ben Sisko who had been 
responsible for her capture was an irony Anakin had kept to himself.  
	Sakonna had been young at the time and rather idealistic, even with her logic.  
She'd joined the Maquis to right what she perceived to be a wrong, and while she may 
have matured, she never stopped believing that the overall goal was for the best.  She 
was a defender of those who couldn't defend themselves, and in that, Anakin knew he'd 
found the heart of a Jedi.  Her training was going moderately well, for although she 
had the mental discipline necessary for control, she was still trying to unlearn half a 
century of experience.  He could definitely see why the Jedi of old started so young, 
and why Luke had done the same with him and the others when it came to their training.
	Sakonna had been the last, and that had been… two and a half months?  It had 
seemed so much longer, but then, the days had grown longer and the nights shorter ever 
since they'd started this enterprise.  There was always more to do, train the students 
during the day, train himself to be a teacher at night.  His quarters were a mess with 
the writings of the old Jedi that Jacen had given him, and Anakin studied them 
fervently.  He didn't agree with what they were doing, but that didn't mean he could 
afford to not give it the best possible effort.  The dreams of spreading darkness 
spurred him on when his exhaustion seemed to get the better of him.  It didn't seem 
like ten weeks, it seemed like one long day, punctuated by the occasional nap.  
	The training for the day was done, but rather than tending to some of the 
individual work, the three Jedi had to attend another meeting.  As usual, Jacen had 
called it, and as usual, he seemed to think he could dictate it.  He started off by 
talking how happy he is at the initial progress, then tried prodding Anakin to find 
more prospective students.  As always, Anakin refused, this time a little more sharply, 
as he hadn't slept much the night before.  Jacen quickly backed off, although his 
irritation was clear to all of them considering they were all Force users.  But Jacen 
didn't have the patience to do the scouting work, not when so many other things seemed 
to demand his attention.  
	Jacen moved on to his next point.  "We're out of lightsaber crystals," he said 
as if they'd run low on bread and milk.  
	"How did that happen?" Anakin asked wearily.
	Jaina cleared her throat.  "I was working late, constructing some extra sabers 
in case there was an accident during training."  Her embarrassment was obvious.  "I 
must have dozed for just a second and&"
	"We're all overworked," Jacen said.  "Let's not dwell on it.  But, obviously we 
can't ignore this, not with the Sith out there."
	"Agreed," Anakin said.  "Any ideas?"
	"Yes," Jacen said.  "I was thinking this would be a good exercise.  Laudica has 
experience in travel; she and I could find additional crystals as a training mission."
	"No," Jaina said.  "We can't afford your absence right now."
	"Nonsense, it won't be long."
	"You're the administrator," Jaina said, "Anakin and I do the field work.  
That's what was agreed to when we started, that's what we're going to do now."
	Jacen fumed for a moment.  "Fine," he said sharply.
	"Good.  Anakin, if you wouldn't mind, I'd prefer not to go.  I think Pallo is 
finally starting to get the hang of telekinesis, and I don't want to interrupt that."
	"Fine, but I'd appreciate it if you could work with Shaote a little.  That 
Terran is really going to surprise you."
	"He already has," Jaina said with a weak smile.
	"It's settled then," Jacen said, getting up.  "I'll inform Laudica.  I expect 
you'll leave first thing tomorrow?"
	"Yes," Anakin said.  In a way, he was relieved.  Long trips through hyperspace 
meant blissful sleep, which was worth its weight in credits these days.



CHAPTER XVI

	It was a dark and stormy night.  Then again, it was Ferenginar, so every night 
was a dark and stormy night.  Even the days tended to be dark and stormy.  But most of 
all, it seemed that Gorren's mood was darker and stormier than all of them.
	Everywhere Sebastian and his Klingon companion went, it seemed the Ferengi were 
trying to sell them something... or someone.  Within twenty minutes Gorren's patience 
had worn thin and it was all Sebastian could do to keep his friend from disemboweling a 
street vendor as an example.  Nevertheless, Gorren's growl seemed to make the point 
clear enough, and the Ferengi seemed to know when to look for less hostile clientele.  
Overall, though, there wasn't too much to worry about.  A Klingon who tolerated Ferengi 
irritation would probably attract more attention than one who bristled at their antics.  
	With all his connections, Sebastian had never made his way to Ferenginar 
before.  For some reason, it had never been necessary, despite their connections to the 
underworld.  In the end, the Ferengi weren't the type to rebel against the Empire; they 
had too much to lose compared to the gain.  That's what mattered to them: a cost-
benefit analysis.  A Ferengi who was worth more credits for himself dead than alive was 
perhaps the closest they ever got to a moral dilemma.  Well, a dilemma at any rate.  
Still, Sebastian had experience forming connections, and with the list of contacts he 
had from Volgo Terraine, this wasn't going to be as difficult as it had been on other 
places.  Qo'nos had been the hardest and, well, look what he'd accomplished there.  
Well, the world was in open revolt, but it wasn't because of him.  Well, not directly, 
just... kriff, was his life ever depressing.  The rain didn't exactly help.
	The two turned the corner and headed towards the entertainment district of the 
city.  As expected, the Ferengi seemed to go overboard on this idea, but given the 
weather, it wasn't surprising.  With skill honed from experience, the two found their 
way to the right club without in any way indicating it was their destination all along.  
Information brokers often kept an eye on the visitors, and it was best not to attract 
their attention if it could be avoided.  Sebastian didn't know the name, nor did he 
care; odds are it was one of those tasteless jokes that was about as funny as a kidney 
stone.  
	One of the many bridges that the union of the two galaxies had to overcome was 
related to an unexpected issue.  Because of some factor in the ancient primordial past 
of this galaxy, it was possible to crossbreed between sentient species on different 
planets.  It made absolutely no sense, but the half-humans and such-like walking around 
were proof enough that it was possible.  In the Imperial galaxy, even during the time 
of the Republic, inter-species marriage was outlawed.  Of course, there were the 
occasional indulgences allowed, exotic dancers and such of varying species, but actual 
copulation was a rarity and was usually regarded as an exotic experiment, nothing more.  
That the Milky Way often indulged in open inter-species mating, even marriage, was a 
difficult cultural hurdle and led to many problems.  The one side was regarded as 
repressed bigots, the other as degenerate hedonists.  The entire issue was further 
confused by the existence of humans in both galaxies, and the fact that they were 
capable of having offspring with each other.  The eventual "compromise" was the 
continuation of the law without any real enforcement.  In other words, it was permitted 
so long as the people involved didn't make waves that drew Imperial attention.  It was 
grudgingly accepted by both sides in the end.
	Of course, this law had little bearing on the contents of the club, since long-
term relations were the last thought on the minds of the patrons.  The stages showed a 
cross-section of the Empire that wouldn't exactly be welcome on any pro-unification 
poster, although it seemed that getting together was on the minds of the various 
patrons.  Twi'leks, humans, Bajorans, Romulans, Cathar, even, to Sebastian's surprise, 
a Vorta, although where they managed to find one was more than he wanted to know.  
Probably cloned from old stock, he thought distantly.  The Jem'hadar samples had all 
been destroyed, but it wouldn't have surprised him if a few Dominion bits and pieces of 
technology had found their way into Ferengi hands.  As it always did, it raised the 
dilemma in Sebastian's mind: how far could he balance the needs of the injustices he 
observed on his missions without compromising the larger problem he was there to 
combat.  If he had time, he'd look into this later.  For all he knew, the Vorta had 
escaped captivity and was working here voluntarily.
	Sebastian was married, but despite that fact he didn't indulge himself here.  
He felt no attraction towards females outside his species and looking at the humans 
only reminded him of how much he longed for his wife's touch.  Gorren, naturally, was a 
hard-liner and didn't believe in diluting the purity of his house with alien blood 
unless it involved a knife.  Without distraction, it didn't take them long to spot 
their mark, Gint.  They took a seat, keeping an eye on him while he watched the show; 
it was too crowded to make a move in here.  They drank their drinks, talked only enough 
to keep up appearances, and waited.  Less than two hours later, the Vorta exited the 
stage and took the Ferengi's hand, and the two headed towards one of the back rooms.  
Sebastian and Gorren casually followed; a large Nosagin blocked their path.  
"Authorized personnel only," he growled.
	"We're authorized," Sebastian said quietly.
	"You're authorized," the Nosagin agreed, stepping out of the way and letting 
them through.  Sebastian quickly followed the trail to the room; it was locked, but 
nothing more than a simple privacy device, and easily bypassed.  The door slid open and 
he and Gorren slipped inside.  Thankfully nothing had started yet, or this assignment 
would have crossed a new boundary of distaste for the Jedi.
	"What's going on?" Gint demanded.  Like most Ferengi with something on his 
mind, he was a bit slow on the uptake.  "You can't be in here."
	"We have some questions for you," Gorren remarked.  The frustrations of the 
evening made themselves obvious in his tone, and the Ferengi shriveled back and hit the 
call for security.  Two more Nosagins came in right behind them, but they hadn't 
expected anything more than a tryst gone sour.  Gorren quickly twisted and drove a 
dagger into the exposed ribs of one while Sebastian grabbed the arm of the other and 
slammed him headfirst into the wall.  Then with a touch he knocked him unconscious.  He 
and Gorren straightened back up, their body language making it clear that this was less 
of a threat than a minor inconvenience.  The Ferengi was almost pale, the girl 
uncertain.
	"Don't do that again," Sebastian warned.  His body, in the meantime, was 
screaming at him for the exertion.  He was in worse shape than he thought.
	"I'm connected," the Ferengi babbled.  "Big people!  Really big people!  You 
don't want to mess with them!"
	"Enough," Gorren rumbled.  "Answer our questions and I will kill you."
	"'Or,' you mean, right?" Gint said.
	"Answer our questions or I will kill you slowly."
	"Being ambushed angers my friend," Sebastian said, playing the slightly less 
bad cop.  "Answer honestly or he'll make a hat out of your skin."  With a thought, he 
flicked on the recorder in his mask; eidetic memory aside, it was always good to have a 
precise account of an interrogation.  "You came into possession of a gross of 
concussion missiles fourteen months ago.  You don't have them any more.  Who'd you sell 
them to?"
	"I don't remember details from that long ago!"
	"Thump," Sebastian said.  Gorren stepped forward and struck the Ferengi across 
the head, sending him tumbling out of the bed and onto the floor.  "Who'd you sell them 
to?"
	"Roz!  Dem Roz!  Some Malon who'd done business with the syndicate."
	Sebastian flipped through the images on his disk, then held it up.  "This 
him?" he asked as the hologram appeared.
	"Yeah, that's him."  Gint was holding his head where he'd landed. 
	Sebastian shut down the hologram; it was a composite design of one of Nom 
Anor's identities, which meant they were on the right track.  "What else did you sell 
him?"
	"It was just a one-time deal."
	"Thump," Sebastian said.  He tried not to look uncomfortable as Gorren picked 
up the Ferengi and slammed him face first into the wall, holding him there.  "What else 
did you sell him?"
	"I didn't sell him anything!"  Gorren was holding the Ferengi off the floor as 
he pull him backwards to hit the wall again.  "I SWEAR I DIDN'T!"
	"Hold it," Sebastian said, and Gorren stopped, the Ferengi's face centimeters 
from the wall.  "But..."
	"But I did put him in touch with a slicer on Betazed."  Face met wall.  
	"Do you think we are stupid?" the Klingon growled.  "That a criminal would try 
to hide among telepaths?"
	"Okay!  OKAY!  She was on Trodendt.  Thorim Glesser, top-notch with 
electronics."
	"She still there?"
	"As far as I know," the Ferengi said.  "The Syndicate still uses her sometimes, 
but she's strictly freelance."
	Sebastian nodded and Gorren lowered the Ferengi to the floor, but kept one hand 
on his shoulder as a reminder.  "You," Sebastian said to the Vorta, "what's your name?"
	"Kilana... Kilana 5."  She seemed frightened, which was understandable.
	"You are the fifth clone then?"
	"Yes," she said.
	"Are you a slave?" Sebastian asked point blank.
	"No Vorta is a slave," she said, seemingly finding the idea ludicrous.  "We 
serve out of love and devotion.  We live only to serve the Founders."
	"Seems someone's not been up on current events," Gorren said under his breath.
	"Who are the Founders?" Sebastian asked.
	"The ones who made us Vorta," she said, looking at him oddly.
	Sebastian turned back to Gint.  "Who are the Founders?"
	"The Founders are dead," he said, trying to force a laugh.
	"Blasphemy!" Kilana cried.  "The Founders cannot die!  They are gods!"
	"She's right," Sebastian said with a nod to Gorren.  The wall was starting to 
take an imprint of Gint's frontal lobes.  "It's the Orion Syndicate, isn't it."
	"They're clones!" Gint wailed.  "Who cares what happens to them?!"
	And this, of course, is what it came down to, balancing the little crimes 
against the big ones.  Sebastian couldn't right all the wrongs, but he was here, now, 
and could right this one if he wanted to.  Balancing the risks between the two, his own 
cost-benefit analysis.  He reached up and pulled off his mask.  "I do," he said.
	Gorren let Gint drop to the floor; the Ferengi seemed almost paralyzed.  "But 
you... you're..."  Sebastian pulled out his lightsaber from its pouch, then lit it; the 
Ferengi visibly wet himself.  He dropped to his knees, fists held together over his 
head at the wrist.  "Please, spare me!  I promise, I'll never sell arms again!  I swear 
it!  Please!!!"
	"The girl comes with us," Sebastian said.  "The Orion Syndicate writes it off 
as a loss.  Nobody tries to follow us.  Anyone does, and I will come back for you, 
Gint.  You hear me?  I'll come for you."  The blade struck the floor a centimeter from 
Gint, who had been too terrified to move.  He nodded vigorously in agreement.
	"The Founders said I was to work here," Kilana said.  "It was to their glory 
that I served them in this way."
	"They lied to you about being the Founders," Sebastian said.  "They were just 
using you."
	"You're lying!"
	"No, I'm not," Sebastian said.  Then a thought hit him.  "Because I know where 
the Founder really is."
	Kilana looked at him with skepticism.  "Really?"
	"Yes, just as I know that you are missing some of your memories.  You know you 
are the fifth, yet you do not know everything about the Dominion you should."
	Her eyes widened.  "Yes," she said.  "The Founders told me…"  She slipped into 
silence.
	"They were lying," Sebastian said.  "I have met the Founder; I have served 
under him."  Technically, it was true.  "I can take you to him."
	Kilana looked between him and Gorren, then to the cowering Ferengi.  "I believe 
you," she said eventually.  "Please, take me to him."
	Sebastian deactivated the lightsaber and put it away.  "Replicate her some 
clothes," he told Gint.  "Something that won't attract attention."  The Ferengi nodded 
and got up quickly, rushing over to the controls.  A few minutes later Kilana was 
properly dressed for the constant weather of the planet.  "Make a few changes of 
clothes so she has some comfort," he added.
	"This goes on my account," Gint protested.
	"Bill the Syndicate," Gorren said, and at his word the Ferengi got to work.  
Soon she had a small suitcase full of clothing.  Sebastian, in the meantime had put his 
mask back on.
	"Remember," Sebastian said, "no one knows what happened, and we were never 
here& Gint."
	"Of course, of course," the Ferengi said.  "Have a safe trip."
	As they slipped into the hall Gorren stepped to Sebastian's side.  "I would not 
question you in front of another," he whispered.  "But are you sure this is wise, my 
friend?"
	"No," Sebastian said.  "I'm sure it's unwise."
	"Ah, well, at least I have that comfort."
	"Look at it this way Gorren, how many times have I done what I figure is 
probably unwise, and look where it's gotten me?"
	"Yes, you're a wanted man hated by trillions with an artificial leg."
	"See?  Law of averages says this has got to turn my way."  And together the 
trio slipped through the club and out into the streets.

	The mists of sleep slowly started to lift from Anakin Solo's mind.  "Good 
morning, lover," rolled a deep, sexy voice.  It filtered through the cracks in his mind 
like molten metal through a fractured mold until it hit the center of his consciousness 
and he jerked bolt upright.  Unfortunately, he was in a co-pilot's chair and caught 
himself on the restraining harness, tossing him right back into his seat.  The voice 
was laughing at his antics.  "Sorry about that, but I've done that a dozen times and it 
never stops being funny."
	"No, it's not," Anakin grumbled, undoing the restraints.
	"Yes it is… from a certain point of view."  She was trying to keep a straight 
face but was failing miserably, until it just slid right out and she was laughing at 
him again.
	"Remember who's grading you, Laudica," Anakin said, for all the good it did.  
He couldn't actually hold this against the student, that wouldn't be setting a very 
good example.  Still, Laudica Reshad could be grating at times, and this was one of 
those times.  "What's our status?"
	"I've made two zig-zag jumps," she said, "and was just about to make the third.  
Are you really sure this is necessary?"
	"With a Sith, there's no such thing as too careful."
	She nodded, but it was plain to see she wasn't so sure about that.  There was a 
cockiness about her, part of what made her clash with the students at times.  He hadn't 
been too sure about recruiting her at all, but despite that she was proving to be an 
able pupil with much potential.  He just hoped this didn't lead down the wrong path.  
"So you really think it was a Sith that killed the Emperor?" she asked.  "I mean, I 
know you and Jacen and Jaina said so, but is that just like party line?  Was it really 
that Skywalker?"
	"Laudica," Anakin said, "believe me, before this war is over, you're going to 
learn the answers to all those questions for yourself.  Unfortunately, yes, it was 
really a Sith, no it wasn't Bastian."
	"But it did look just like him."
	"I know, but I saw the Sith.  I was with him when he killed Luke Skywalker."
	Laudica was quiet and for the first time he felt that she was taking this 
seriously.  "I though the Vong killed him?"
	"No Vong could kill Luke Skywalker," Anakin said.  "No, it was a Sith, with the 
power of the Dark side.  Against that, even a master like him was unable to survive."
	She was still for a moment, then shifted uncomfortably.  "You're just trying to 
scare me," she said, but her voice lacked the self-assurance it had before.  Then she 
jumped as Anakin detached his hand.
	"He did this to me," Anakin said.  "I had a lightsaber, he was unarmed, and he 
still managed to defeat me.  If Luke hadn't been there I'd be dead."
	She swallowed.  The lightsabers were all locked on training, and all of the 
apprentices had felt its sting at some time or other.  "The Dark side is that 
powerful?"
	"No!" Anakin answered, perhaps a little too forcefully.  "No, it's not the Dark 
side.  The light is just as powerful, but it is the harder path.  It requires peace, 
patience.  The Sith walks the path of self-destruction, of hate and pain, and though he 
achieves power quickly, it is ultimately self-defeating."
	"But, if he could defeat a master like Luke Skywalker, how can we face him?"
	Anakin was quiet.  "I don't know," he admitted.  "I wish I could give you 
something more reassuring, but you would know my lies.  But I cannot believe the Jedi 
came that close to extinction and came back only to be wiped out by this Sith.  
Somehow, we'll stop him.  Jacen, Jaina, Sebastian, me, maybe even Alema or Shaote."
	"Or me?" Laudica asked.
	Anakin smiled.  "The Force is strong with you," he said.  "But you have much to 
learn."
	"Jacen says I'm making great progress."
	"Yes… but my brother has a tendency to stretch the truth.  You've had three 
months of training; I had had nearly twenty years when I faced the Sith."  He could 
feel her fear returning.  "I don't say that to make you feel inadequate," he added.  
"But you've got to know your limitations, and to remember the ways of the Jedi.  I 
forgot that, and it cost me a limb.  If you forget, it could cost you much more."
	"My life," she said quietly.
	"No, your soul."


CHAPTER XVII

	Leia Organa Solo maintained an impassive expression as the holograms on her 
desk spoke, although it took a great deal of effort to do so.  Gen. Sunhaf was doing 
most of the speaking, and he had the tactical experience to know what he was talking 
about.  Still, since the arrival of the Vong he was showing his age more and more, and 
it was obvious that his strategic instincts were barely overcoming exhaustion these 
days.  Still, many of their generals and admirals had become Vong duplicates, so they 
didn't have the luxury of being choosy.
	"We are in a difficult situation, minister," Sunhaf said frankly.  "The Vong 
are on the offensive now, their ranks swollen, and they've forced us to concentrate our 
forces to resist their ambushes.  The result is they've retaken almost all of the 
territorial gains we've made for the past several years.  Because of the degree of the 
intelligence breach, we've had to devote large forces to protecting supply convoys.  
The initial attacks on our convoys have left many of our ships under-supplied."
	"What do you suggest?" Leia asked.
	"Reinforcements are the primary concern, minister," Sunhaf answered.  "We'll 
have to draw more forces to the front lines to hold back Vong expansion.  The more 
territory they acquire, the easier it is for them to expand their fleet."
	"Our forces are already stretched thin," Admiral Chanor remarked.  "Without an 
Imperial presence, more and more systems will revolt."
	"It won't matter if there's no Empire left to revolt against," Sunhaf said 
simply.  "You don't worry about a cancer when you're in a blaster fight, admiral."
	"I don't like it," Leia admitted, "but I'm inclined to agree.  However, I think 
we should draw our forces from here rather than the Milky Way."  There were several 
protests, but she held up her hand.  "Protection of strategic targets, but we stop 
worrying about pirates, smugglers, etcetera.  We have the resources of two galaxies at 
our disposal, but it won't make a difference if we can't mobilize it."
	"Several thousand star destroyers should make a difference," General Hinal 
agreed.  "But there is still the matter of Vong intelligence.  So long as they possess 
the experiences of our leadership, they know our strengths and weaknesses, our 
contingency plans, our-"
	"I understand," Leia interrupted.  "The planet will be destroyed, but it's 
taking time to convince the Senate."
	"Which is precisely what the Vong want," Hinal said with barely restrained 
frustration.  "We need the order-"
	"General," Leia said, "I take this situation as seriously as you do, but I am 
not the Emperor.  I can only push things so far without risk of shattering our Empire.  
We will use our weapon when the civilian government approves, and no sooner.  In the 
meantime, you will have to cope with the limitations placed upon you."  She nodded, as 
did the holograms, then they vanished.  "The situation is grim, gentlemen," she said to 
the Chancellor and Volgo Terraine, both of whom had been present for the meeting.  "Nom 
Anor and his duplicates have turned the tide in this war.  We have to stop thinking 
about the Vong as being the nearly vanquished foes they have been."
	"I think the Senate is aware of how serious the situation is," the Chancellor 
remarked.  "But they seem reluctant to provide anyone with the executive authority to 
use the superlasers.  The near destruction of our own people on the Emperor's authority 
is a strong factor in their thinking."
	"We've been over this," Leia said.  "It's impractical to seek approval of the 
Senate in every instance when the superlaser is necessary.  It tips off the enemy to 
our activities and delays necessary military action."  The irony of the situation was 
not lost on her; that this very weapon had destroyed her own planet was a fact not lost 
on her, and it was infuriating that it was needed at all.  Unfortunately, with the 
Emperor gone she didn't have the luxury of keeping her hands clean.  She had been 
opposed to the construction of more Eclipses, a terror weapon as far as she could tell.  
Now she knew why Ben had them built, but it didn't mean she had to like the despicable 
things.  All it meant was that she had to be prepared to use them when the situation 
demanded it, for the extremes like this case, when it was clearly a case of no 
collateral damage and strictly military targets.  She doubted it would put fear into 
the heart of the Vong, but that wasn't their goal.
	"Minister, the Senate's outcome is uncertain, and how long it will take to 
reach that outcome is unclear.  Given the timeliness of the matter, I suggest that we 
table your issue for the moment and speak directly to the point of its present use on 
the Vong planet.  Even Senator Alixus' supporters can see the weaknesses in her 
opposition to its use in this specific case.  We can quickly push that through and use 
the weapon now, then re-open the larger issue."
	Leia shut her eyes and took a deep breath; she was running on Force-tapped 
strength for days now, and the exhaustion was getting to her.  "Very well," she said.  
"As soon as possible, Chancellor."  He nodded, then showed himself out.  Leia now 
turned her attention to Terraine.  "I kriffing hope you have good news for me," she 
said, exhaustion overcoming regal habits.
	"Somewhat," he answered.  "Our connection with Borda is starting to bear 
fruit."
	"Borda?" Leia asked.  Her mind was having trouble keeping track of all these 
names in its current state.
	"The Rodian Sebastian rescued," Terraine reminded her.  "His rebel forces have 
been helping us counterbalance the Vong's recent activities."
	"It's about time," she said irritably.  Sebastian's silence on his work with 
Borda's rebels had been the foundation of Alixus' entire coup theory, which was used as 
a justification for many of the uprisings that took place.  As horrible as it was to 
think, it would probably have been better if they had sold out the rebels to preserve 
the Empire.  Better at least for the Empire, although Leia wondered if the strain of 
the position and the amoral demands it made wasn't driving her towards the Dark side.  
Perhaps that was why Ben had to die then, to prevent himself from going to far into 
darkness.
	"They've located a planet that the Vong are using for the growth of coralships.  
It's uninhabited, the Vong probably assumed no one would notice it, because there are 
high concentrations of yorrik coral.  A blow against that world could be crippling."
	"Base Delta Zero?" she asked.
	"I wouldn't advise it," Terraine said.  "The planet is too heavily defended and 
is well within Vong space.  A single superlaser strike-"
	"Why does it always come back to that?" Leia growled, more to herself than 
anyone else.  "I remember the good old days when we solved problems without blowing up 
planets."
	"Minister," Terraine said, "it was a Base Delta Zero that wiped out my 
homeworld and left few of us changelings to survive in the galaxy.  All these actions 
are morally repugnant, but would you have us lose to face enslavement or extinction?"
	"No," Leia said.  "But obviously we can't employ the superlaser in this case; 
we would need Senate approval, and that would tip off the Vong."
	"The system is remote; I doubt anyone would know if we simply destroyed it and 
didn't say anything."
	"We can't chance it.  We have galactic resources because we are held together, 
if we cut the Senate out of the loop we'd be slitting our own throats."
	"Respectfully, minister, if we don't, the Vong are lining up to do it for us."
	"We need to find another way," 
	Terraine nodded.  "There is one way to get results.  We developed a chemical 
that interferes with yorrik coral growth.  We used it on one of their worlds a year 
ago, with much success."
	Leia's eyes narrowed.  "Why wasn't I told of this?  I asked for all our anti-
Vong tactics when the Emperor died."
	"The process worked only the one time," Terraine said.  "We released it by 
firing several torpedoes loaded with the chemical at the planet and releasing it into 
the atmosphere.  Since then the Vong have anticipated those moves, and are able to 
strike fast enough to neutralize the chemical before it spreads.  We had put it aside, 
since it had ceased being effective."
	"Then if that's the case, why bring it up now?"
	"I had received a communication from Sebastian Skywalker through our network.  
It had actually been in regard to Kolyet, but it seems even more applicable here.  He 
said that if there were a way to bypass the shield, he could fly a cloaked ship to the 
planet and release the chemical gradually, undetected, to inhibit the yorrik coral.  
Unfortunately, there's no way through the shield, but it could work for this planet."
	"But Sebastian's not available," Leia pointed out.
	"Yes," Terraine said.  "Some other Jedi must do this, then."
	They'd done it before, Leia knew.  It was how Anakin got stuck and Luke killed.  
She didn't relish the thought of repeating that, but she couldn't go herself; she was 
needed here.  "Anakin is off-world," she finally said.  "Jacen or Jaina should be able 
to assist you."
	"It's not an especially dangerous assignment," Terraine said, offering some 
small comfort.
	"Perhaps, but I'll feel better when it's over."

	Annika was still when the door opened, and Jorri feared the worst.  If she was 
sleeping, it would be bad to wake her, and if she wasn't... 
	"Jorri?" she croaked.  "Is that you, girl?"  
	"It's me, grandma-to-be," Jorri said with relief.
	"Come around to the other side of the bed, please," Annika said.  "My interface 
with my cybernetics is gone now, so I can't see you with that eye."
	Jorri swallowed, trying not to let the sight of her mother-in-law upset her.  
She put on her brave face and came around to the other side; Annika was smiling, but 
there was visible exhaustion in her expression.  "How are you doing?" she asked.
	Annika coughed.  "I'm dying... but if I fix that I'll be right as rain."  He 
smile broadened just a little, and she reached out a shaking hand and ran it over 
Jorri's belly.  "And you are going to love having me as a grandma," she said.  "I'm 
going to get you a Flotter the Water doll that makes two hundred different annoying 
sounds and runs off ZPE so you'll never need a power pack."
	"Ugh," Jorri said, but couldn't keep the smile off her face.  "I heard I missed 
quite a show."
	Annika gave a dismissive wave.  "Stormtroopers being stormtroopers," she said.  
"Don't worry about it."
	"They didn't give you a rough time, did they?"
	"With the Doctor here?" Annika laughed.  "I think they knew better."  They 
talked for a while; Annika mildly chastised Jorri for flying, Jorri explained how there 
was nothing to worry about.  They discussed their plans and what she and Sebastian 
would do after the war.  Eventually, Annika wore out and had to go to sleep.  Jorri 
still couldn't believe it.  She remembered there was an accident on the farm once when 
they were a kid, and Annika had lifted a three hundred kilogram condenser and held it 
out of the way while Luke and her father got everyone stuck inside the entryway to 
safety.  Now she barely had the strength to move her own body, and it was thanks to the 
Vong.  
	Jorri gave her a goodbye kiss and slipped out to find the Doctor.  As always, 
he was nearby.  "What's the prognosis?" she asked, steeling herself.
	The EMH Mark 1 was notorious for its lousy bedside manner, but a few decades 
had taught him more than any programming ever could.  Still, there was no way to couch 
some news.  "With the spread of the disease so far, it's a wonder she's even still 
alive.  Still, willpower can play a factor, especially when there's a goal in mind for 
the patient.  She wants to see her grandchild... and I wish I could tell you she would.  
I give her a week, two at the most, and it won't matter how much she wants it, her body 
is going to shut down.  I'm sorry, Jorri, I truly am.  I had hoped we could do 
something to combat this disease, but it looks like Annika may have been right about 
this."  He realized he was rambling and glanced up at Jorri.  "Sorry," he said.  "I've 
lost many friends over the years, but usually not in my own hospital."
	Jorri just hugged him in response.  "Thank you for giving her what time she's 
had," she whispered.  He nodded, and she left.  She left the flying to her co-pilot; 
her mind was a million light-years away.

	Ben was training the Sith when the door to the Oracle's lab opened.  She half-
walked, half-stumbled to the communicator, entering one of the code scramblers to 
prevent it from being traced to either end by the network.  He paused in his training 
and let the students continue with their exercises; he listened distantly, and realized 
it was Garak.
	"I was wondering how long that Vong was going to wait around," Garak mused.  
	"As long as he must," the Oracle replied without a touch of humor.
	"Well, I must admire his courage, if not his good sense.  Not many are willing 
to play chicken with an Eclipse."
	"He's been prepping for departure, but he can't do it alone.  You're ready to 
assist him."  It wasn't a question; the Oracle hardly ever asked questions, and when 
she did, it was usually to lead someone to their own conclusions.
	"I suppose we still need him," Garak said with a sigh of resignation, as if the 
task of aiding the escape from a blockaded world was merely an inconvenience, like 
picking up stray garbage.  He signed off, and the Oracle turned and started to walk 
back; she suddenly hit the wall and stuck there.
	"Why did you not inform me of this?" Ben Skywalker demanded. 
	If the Oracle was afraid, she hid it extremely well.  "It was of no importance 
to you," she replied.
	"I," he said emphatically, pointing a thumb at his chest, "decide what is 
important, not you, Janeway."
	"I assumed your concern was with the Sith," she replied.  "Garak, Anor, they're 
just tools to be used in furthering your will-"
	"I do not like your independent thoughts, Janeway," he said.  "Don't think that 
I can be played; you live only so long as I deem you useful."
	"Yes, my Lord," she said.  "If I may, I do have information which you might 
find useful."
	"Indeed," he said, but he left her up on the wall.  "Tell me, and I'll see if I 
find it useful..."
	"The Jedi are about to be divided," she said, "and in that division is an 
opportunity to destroy them.  One is already traveling to Ilum in search of lightsaber 
crystals, another will be heading to the Vong world of Provag, one will remain on 
Chandrilla with their pathetic attempts at a Jedi Academy, and Sebastian Skywalker 
remains a fugitive.  Any or all are potential targets, my Lord."
	"And Leia?" Ben asked.
	"She will be out of your reach for now," the Oracle said.  Ben's anger visibly 
burned.  "But do not fear.  In time, she will seek you out, and when she does, you will 
have the chance to destroy her and the Empire."
	Ben mulled it over; while he did so the Oracle slid down the wall to the floor.  
"What of the Jedi Academy?"
	"You may destroy it at your whim, of course," the Oracle said, dusting herself 
off as if the situation had been nothing out of the ordinary.  "Or you could turn them 
to the power of the Dark side.  In times of old, many Sith recruits were fallen Jedi," 
she reminded him.  "A demonstration of dark side power would no doubt speak to many of 
them."
	Ben smiled, but only a little.  She did have her uses, loathe though he was to 
admit it.  "All right," he said finally.  "We'll follow your plan, for now.  Where do 
you suggest we begin."
	The Oracle took out a datapad.  "I took the liberty of making all the 
arrangements, my lord."  She passed it over to him.  "Your victory is assured, and the 
results devastating to the Jedi."
	"You've foreseen it?"
	"Naturally, my lord."



CHAPTER XVIII

	The authorities had been called in to investigate at the club.  Not the Ferengi 
authorities, of course; no one was that stupid.  No, the Orion Syndicate had their own 
authorities to deal with their problems.  Duwal, in this case, was in charge of 
handling things on Ferenginar, and that usually kept him busy.  There are few things a 
criminal hates more than being cheated by businessmen, so the Orions and Ferengi often 
had a relationship comparable to the Klingons and Romulans, only without the polite 
banter.
	The minute Duwal showed up he knew he'd have to update Luin, the man he 
answered to in the syndicate.  Vorta slave girls were rare and high demand; their 
fanatical devotion to service made them an experience to remember.  Whoever was 
responsible had no idea what they were bringing down on their heads.  Duwal set up a 
small holoprojector in the room and contacted Luin on a secure line; he quickly 
informed him of the situation.
	"Was the client in on it?" Luin asked right away.
	"The Ferengi's pretty shaken up," Duwal said.  "I don't think he's that good an 
actor, and whoever was here smacked him around pretty good.  I don't think he'd go in 
for a beating."
	"Why didn't the little creep call down to security?" Luin asked.
	"He did; we found two Nossagins here, one dead, one out cold with no sign of 
stun weapons.  To me, looks like a Vulcan and a Klingon, which mostly backs up his 
story."
	"Mostly?"
	"He says the other one was that Jedi the Empire's looking for, if you can 
believe anything that comes out of a Ferengi's mouth."
	"Did they say what they were doing with her?" Luin asked.
	"Something about the Founders, just some lines to get her to come along 
quietly.  But he-"
	"'Scuse me, Duwal?" said Brune.  "You wanna take a look at this?"
	Duwal glanced over then back to the hologram.  Luin gave a quick but impatient 
nod, and he came over.  "This better be important," he said in a low, menacing tone.  
Brune pointed to a hole in the floor, and Duwal looked it over.  "What about it?"
	"I ain't never seen a weapon that can do that," Brune said.
	Anyone else and Duwal would've rebuke them on the spot for wasting his time, 
but Brune was an expert on weapons, especially on their application to people that 
crossed the Syndicate.  "Phaser?"
	"Not with that shape; bottom of the hole's full of hardened molten metal.  You 
need tools to make a hole like this."
	Duwal was thoughtful for a moment, then came back up to the hologram.  "It 
looks like the Ferengi may have been right about this guy being a Jedi."
	"I hope you're not playing a game with me, Duwal," Luin said coldly.  
	Duwal told him about the hole.  "Those Jedi weapons are supposed to cut through 
anything, even armor."
	Luin rolled this new idea around for a moment.  Rising in the Orion Syndicate 
required a strong balance between ambition and caution.  Too much of the former and you 
wind up dead, too much of the latter and you never make the big scores.  It was very 
high stakes gambling.  "The Empire wants this guy back, right?"
	"That's the word," Duwal said.  
	"We know where this guy's going?"
	"Yeah, Ferengi spilled his guts.  You thinking about trying to catch this guy 
and ransom him back to the Empire?"
	"Forget ransom," Luin said, "this could buy us a lot of favors from the 
regional governor if we let him bring this Jedi in."
	Duwal shook his head a little.  "I don't know... I saw this guy chop through a 
bunch of stormtroopers, I don't think we can take him down without leaving the body a 
smear on some wall."
	"If that Cardassian pimple can pull it off, I'd think that we could."
	"You're the boss," Duwal said, but he could hardly keep the defeated tone out 
of his voice.  Capture a Jedi?  Maybe he should steal Luin a star destroyer while he 
was at it.  He turned off the holoprojector and slid it in his pocket.  "All right 
boys," he said, "we've got some work to do.  Oh, and Brune, remind the Ferengi why it's 
important to keep your mouth shut."

	By the time the Orion Syndicate had learned what had happened, the Raven was 
already in hyperspace.  Gorren volunteered to handle the controls while Sebastian took 
some rest.  He was still barely holding together in the wake of his accident on Earth, 
but the Jedi healing techniques were helping speed things along.  He slipped out of his 
quarters and into the "dining hall," the term applied to what amounted to a food 
synthesizer and a table.  Kilana was sitting at it at the moment, an empty tray in 
front of her.  She looked up at him the moment he entered the room.
	"You're going to take me to the Founder, yes?" Kilana asked.  It was obvious 
she wasn't entirely convinced of Sebastian's honesty with her.
	"Kilana," Sebastian said, taking a seat opposite from her, "I'll take you 
wherever you want to go, once we leave Trodendt."
	"No, I need to meet the Founder right away."
	"I understand how anxious you must feel-"
	"Good, then take me to the Founder."
	Sebastian waited a moment.  "But I have to get to Trodendt before the Syndicate 
figures out I'm going there," he finished  "If we wait, we could lose our only lead.  
The Founder will still be there for you when we are done."
	"You are trying to trick me," she said sharply.
	"Not at all.  Like I said, wherever you want to go, that's where I'll take 
you."
	"Then you will take me to the Founder," she said, leaning back and crossing her 
arms.
	"Why?" Sebastian finally asked.  "Why is it so important to you?"
	Kilana looked at him like he'd just asked why people breathe.  "My life is 
glory to the Founders," she said.
	"I can't argue with that," Sebastian mumbled in defeat.
	"Without the Founders I wouldn't have existed," she said emphatically.  "My 
entire species would be some primate living in a tree somewhere.  What other purpose 
would I have than to serve those who created me?"
	Sebastian shrugged.  "It seems to me that a just creator would have you serve 
only if it was what you wanted, rather than being compelled to."
	"I am not compelled by anything except my love for the Founders," Kilana said.
	"Yeah, except that you've never met them," Sebastian said.  "It's been hard-
wired into you to seek out and serve those you've never met."
	She shook her head in pity.  "I wouldn't expect you to understand."
	"I understand better than you could imagine," Sebastian said.  "Your whole life 
is there for a purpose, and so your every thought is on completing it.  It's all you 
ever knew, all you ever expected."
	"Yes," she conceded.
	"But sometimes, it's too big a task before you; no sane person could stand 
before it and expect to succeed.  And it's only then that you realize that by what 
right should any life be made to merely serve someone else's purpose?  Life should 
exist for its own sake too, right?  So, what you decide then is to do it for your sake, 
not for someone else's."
	"Huh?" Kilana said, rather deflating Sebastian's attempt at grandeur.
	"I'm out here on the run, fighting the good fight, because I have a wife, and a 
daughter on the way, and I want to make a better galaxy for them.  That's how I get out 
of bed in the morning and face stormtroopers and Vong and Cardassians, because it's my 
choice.  You have a choice too, Kilana."
	"And I choose to serve the Founders," she said.
	"If that's what you really want," Sebastian said, emphasizing the "you."  "But 
I think you're basing this on Founder programming rather than your own desires."
	"I am a Vorta," she said sharply.  "I live only to serve the Founders."
	Sebastian shook his head.  "Little bits of proteins... all they tell you is 
what you are, not who you are.  You don't have to listen to them."
	"There is an order to things, Skywalker," she said.  "The Vorta serve the 
Founders.  Without the order, there would be chaos."
	Sebastian got up.  "I hate to break it to you, but if you take a look at the 
galaxy, you'll see the order was destroyed a long time ago."
	"Then if it falls to me to help restore it, so be it."
	Sebastian couldn't help but laugh.  "You?  You'll restore order to the galaxy 
by yourself?"
	"Yes."
	"That doesn't sound a little daunting?" he asked with a laugh.
	"No more than your task, Skywalker," she said evenly.  "And I have the Founder 
on my side.  Who will help you restore order?  The Klingon?  I'm sure you two will 
present a formidable challenge."  She paused.  "I see you're not laughing any more."
	"Hey, you want to live as a slave to some changeling, knock yourself out," 
Sebastian replied with a slight edge to his voice.  "I hope it makes you happy."  He 
headed for the cockpit.
	"Which upsets you more?" she asked.  "That I want to do it, or that it will 
make me happy?"  Sebastian shut the cockpit door behind himself to... to let her think 
about it.

	Volgo Terraine finished explaining the plan to Jacen and Jaina Solo.  It was 
simple, nothing more involved than anything either one of them had done before for the 
Emperor.  Still, both had a bad feeling about this job, and Jacen finally had to ask, 
"Is there another option?  The academy really needs our presence, with Anakin gone."
	"Days could mean the difference," he said frankly.  "A coralship will take 
time, but the coralskippers mature very fast.  Waiting that long would provide a boost 
to the Vong fleet."
	"Would it really make that much of a difference?" Jacen asked.  "A few 
coralskippers-"
	"Forgive me, master Jedi, but you must remember that this is a planet we're 
talking about.  There's more than a mere few involved when it comes to matters of 
planetary scope."
	Jaina knew exactly what he was talking about.  The size of the Empire and the 
scope of the war tended to make planets seem rather small.  Take Chandrilla: the Empire 
had built even more cities around the world, and yet you hardly noticed the difference 
overall, because a planet is just such a large object that humanoid activities don't 
really have an influence.  It took superlasers or millennia of construction or serious 
terraforming efforts to have lasting influences.  A whole planet devoted to Vong ships 
meant a great deal to their war effort.  "I'll go," she said.
	"No," Jacen said.
	She gave him a look of mild annoyance.  "Field operations are my and Anakin's 
job, remember?"
	"Yes, but you're needed here more than I am," Jacen replied.  "You've been 
doing the special training for your and Anakin's students, I can't pick up the slack 
for both of you."
	"I can take Alema," Jaina said.  "She's ready for some field work."
	"I agree, but your place is here."
	Jaina was taken aback.  "Who are you to tell me what my place is?"
	"I'm just holding up the mirror, Jaina," he said.  "This may have been my idea, 
but you've really made it a reality.  You have more of the patience for this than I do, 
and I should have realized that.  I guess I wanted to think of myself as being one of 
the masters of the old age, making the big decisions.  But I miss not having the dirt 
under my feet.  I'm not cut out for this, you are."
	"I hope that's not an attempt at flattery," Jaina said, even though she could 
sense the truth.  She had to admit, though, she liked the way it sounded, and she did 
enjoy working with the students.  "Bring Alema," she said.  "It would be good work for 
her to try, and it would help her confront the Vong in a small way."
	"And it would allow you more time with the other students," he said.  "I'll 
tell her right away; we don't want that Vong fleet growing any bigger."  Neither of 
them voiced their feelings of doubt surrounding the mission.

	Senator Alixus had a tightness in her stomach as she stepped onto the 
transporter.  She had delayed things as best she could, but there was no chance of 
buying any more time.  Tomorrow they would definitely approve the use of the superlaser 
on Nom Anor's world, and there was nothing more she could do to stop them.  She could 
only hope that she'd bought him enough time.
	This time the Sith was waiting in her garden, seated on the bench.  The 
bodyguard's guns flew from their holsters before they could move and landed at his 
feet.  Still, one of them tried charging him while the other reached for a hold-out 
weapon.  With casual gestures the Sith lit his lightsaber and cut down the attacker 
even while he gestured at the other, causing him to cough and sputter until he 
collapsed on the ground with a death rattle.  "I wish you would tell your men to stop 
this foolishness," he said.  "I hate getting my hands dirty with such unbecoming 
enemies."
	"What do you want?" she asked, trying to keep the fear out of her voice.
	"I have more work for you," he said.  "To our mutual advantage, again.  There 
will be a Jedi traveling to the planet Provag on a mission of sabotage against the 
Vong.  I will stop him.  Tell your Vong allies that neither of us is to be interfered 
with.  If they do their death's will be swift and without glory."
	"Are you threatening the entire army of the Vong?" Alixus asked despite 
herself.
	The Sith stood up.  "The ability to terraform worlds, drop moons, grow ships, 
overrun the Empire... I laugh at the puny exertions the Vong call power.  You have no 
idea what power is until you have tasted the Dark side."
	"I will pass along your message," Alixus said finally.  Even though Nom Anor 
was trapped on the blockaded Vong world, his network was still in place for her to 
relay information to the Vong.  It helped keep them up-to-date even when the Empire 
tried deviating from the plans the Hive had learned of through its infiltration.  
Whether they would listen to this idea was another matter, but all Alixus could do was 
pass it along.
	"Good.  Also, there is a group of petty criminals in your sector... the Orion 
Syndicate.  They have decided to embark on a fool's errand, but it serves my interests 
that they do so.  If they want to fight a Jedi, however, they had best come equipped 
for the challenge."
	"Sebastian Skywalker," Alixus said quietly.  "They know where he is?"
	"Skywalker is mine," the Sith said with a voice that left no leeway for 
argument.  "But to maintain this charade the battle must be short.  They'll need the 
proper tool to face the Jedi in anticipation of my attack."  A datapad flew across the 
garden and hung in the air before Alixus; she carefully took it.
	"This?" she finally asked.  "What difference will this creature make?"
	"If you understood the Force, you would already know."  
	He slipped away, so quickly Alixus almost wondered if it was a personal 
transporter.  She looked back to the datapad, wondering if the Sith was right about 
this.  Of course, he had been right last time, impossibly right.  Still, all of this 
was hard to fathom.  She looked at the creature again, and said the name aloud.  
"Ysalamir."


CHAPTER XIX

	Million to one chances always come through for the heroes.  It's practically a 
universal law.  Even Han Solo had to admit that the destruction of the Death Star was 
one in a million, and he won a battered old freighter in a card game, so he should know 
a thing or two about odds.  
	There are roughly a hundred billion stars in the Milky Way galaxy, and that 
leaves a lot of places to hide.  In exchange for services rendered, Nom Anor gave Garak 
the means to produce the coral ships and skippers used.  He chose out of the way 
places, unsettled systems across the galaxy, on moons or lifeless worlds.  All told, he 
selected close to fifty places to grow his ships.  Of course, the Imperials were 
interested in hunting down Garak's group, which was why Garak insisted those worlds 
never be ones where a base would be even considered.  If the Empire stumbled across one 
by accident, they would know what was going on and devote more resources to the search.  
They devoted thousands of probe droids to search for the bases of Cardassians, Hirogen, 
Section 31, and the holograms, choosing likely systems for all those groups.  But the 
odds of randomly selecting one of Garak's systems works out to, believe it or not, a 
million to one.  Somehow, the Empire didn't beat the odds.
	Garak made a few coralships, but the real prize for him were the coralskippers.  
He operated as a terrorist because he lacked large numbers, but he knew that the Vong 
could control these ships with their yammosk.  With time, he knew they could develop a 
computer that could likely do the same thing, so he had grown thousands of the fighter-
like craft on his various worlds.  The progress was stymied by his incarceration, but 
the ships were there.  The Oracle's plan had counted on them, and he started to wonder 
if her suggestion that he ask for them was in anticipation of this very situation.  
Whatever the case, she was right that the Vong were destroying the Empire, and helping 
them would help themselves in the long run.
	Hundreds of transport ships dropped out of hyperspace simultaneously across 
thousands of parsecs.  The targets were chosen based upon the data gathered by Ben 
Skywalker's Sith forces to cause a maximum amount of chaos, and they did.  The 
transports dropped countless numbers of coralships into space before vanishing.  There 
were no pilots, but there didn't need to be.  There was a war coordinator on hand... 
not a yammosk, but in some ways, it was something better.  
	No one could have imagined how surprised Nom Anor would be when the Hive 
informed him of Garak's plan.  The Oracle had apparently informed one of the duplicates 
deliberately that Garak would do this months before, back when everyone assumed the 
Cardassian was going to be executed.  It was disconcerting that Garak's witch could be 
so accurate, but he was willing to go along with her plan, as it was going to work much 
better than what he had originally planned for this scenario.  Still, he wasn't 
entirely certain of its success until the Hive informed him that the coralskippers had 
been deployed and it had assumed control.
	No one had been prepared for this.  The security breach was known, of course, 
but the anticipation was for terrorist attacks or perhaps a squad of Hirogens.  Instead 
hundreds of coralskippers descended on unprepared targets, ranging from military 
installations to civilian infrastructure to space stations.  Planetary defenses 
consisted of outdated defense platforms, sometimes some fighter squadrons, but they 
were no match for the numbers involved, not to mention the fact that there was no 
concern for personal safety among the Vong ships because they were unmanned.  Left 
unchecked, they would cause widespread chaos throughout several sectors.  
	And in the middle of it all was Kolyet and its star destroyer blockade.  
	There were thirty Imperator-class Star Destroyers on hand, and one Eclipse, the 
Shade.  If any left, it would increase the Vong's chances of lowering the shield and 
making a successful escape.  The Senate was scheduled to vote on the deployment of its 
superlaser that day, but it would come too late to do any good.  Captain Dorrin wrung 
his hands as reports came in of the attacks.  As captain of the most powerful ship in 
the blockade, he did have the authority to send the rest of the fleet out to quell the 
attacks.  This was an obvious diversion effort, which could have catastrophic 
consequences if he played into it.  On the other hand, letting the Vong wreak unchecked 
havoc across Imperial worlds while the fleet did nothing would only further the cause 
of separation.  Dorrin knew the Empire could stand or fall based on his decision, and 
it wasn't one he had woken up that morning prepared to make.
	Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on the viewpoint, the decision was 
taken out of his hands.  Admiral Yunar appeared across the blockade, hiding under his 
desk as his base was shaken by coralskipper bombardments.  On his authority, he ordered 
the fleet to deploy whatever ships were necessary to stop the Vong attacks.
	"And what of Kolyet?" Dorrin asked quickly.
	"It'll still be there whe-"  The signal was cut off, although it was obviously 
because of a loss of the transmitter than the admiral's untimely demise.  Dorrin leaned 
wearily on the wall, still looking at the blank picture.
	Dorrin's executive officer cleared his throat.  "Orders, sir?"
	Dorrin shook his head a little.  "This is exactly what the Vong want us to do."
	"Yes, sir.  But the admiral's orders were clear, sir."
	"He wasn't in a position to look at the larger picture," Dorrin said in a voice 
only the two of them could hear.  "It's a bad decision."
	The XO was noncommittal.  "But it was his decision to make, sir."  Dorrin said 
nothing, he just turned it over and over in his mind.  "Sir?"  Still nothing.  "They're 
running out of time, sir."
	Dorrin gave a small nod.  "Against my objection," he said in a loud voice, "we 
are deploying the fleet.  Transmit the orders."
	"Aye sir," the XO said, and went off to coordinate with the other captains.  
Dorrin looked up and saw Kolyet through the window.  On that world was a force that 
could bring the Empire to its knees, and here he sat with the capability of eliminating 
that threat with a single stroke.  The capability, but not the power.  On one hand was 
decades of training and service telling him to follow orders, and on the other the 
knowledge that those orders prevented him from delivering a crippling blow to their 
mortal enemy.  He had been told what felt like a thousand times that the superlaser was 
not under his control.  He didn't make the decision to fire it, he was just the hand 
that pulled the trigger when the brain decided it was time.  It was training and 
conditioning that had held him back, and it was simple common sense for him to move 
forward.  The more he thought about it, the more insane it all became.  You are the 
protector of the Empire.  We place our lives in your hands.  Here is a weapon that will 
obliterate our enemies; don't fire it.  Stand by and do nothing, because you are our 
protector.  It was governmental schizophrenia.
	Dorrin knew what he needed to do, but he had to find a way to justify it in his 
mind.  It was a technicality, he reminded himself.  The minister, the military 
leadership, everyone wanted this planet destroyed, it was just a matter of political 
maneuvering that had delayed it.  It's not disobeying orders, he told himself, it's 
merely taking the initiative.  Thin stuff, but if they took his commission over it, so 
be it.  "Lieutenant," he said, standing up properly and straightening out his uniform.  
"Prepare a firing solution."
	"Aye, sir," the lieutenant said without batting an eye.  He obviously knew the 
protocol, but he also knew the obvious decision under the circumstances.  Moral 
dilemmas were something that happened to senior officers.
	As expected the XO was at his side in a flash.  "Sir," he said in a voice only 
the two of them could hear, "we can't fire without authorization."
	"We can," Dorrin said back in the same tone.  "We just shouldn't."
	"Captain, the protocols are explicit," the XO said.  "No one on this ship, not 
even you, has the authority to use that weapon."
	Dorrin had expected this kind of resistance.  The XO's training had hammered 
into him that even if he objected, he was still responsible for not stopping a rogue 
captain from firing the superlaser.  "I was just following orders" doesn't cut it when 
you've blown up a planet.  "Protocols exist, commander, so that you don't break them 
without thinking things through."
	"Sir," the XO said with just the slightest edge in his voice, "please don't 
make me countermand your orders."
	Dorrin was silent.  "You would mutiny?"
	"I have no choice, sir," the XO said.  "I have my orders too."
	"The men would follow me, you know," Dorrin said.  "This is the only rational 
course of action."
	"Perhaps," the XO said, "but we don't have that luxury."  It wasn't a blaster 
bolt; the sound was all wrong.  A kind of deep energetic whistle, like a morose party 
favor, accompanied by a blue ring.  The stun blast struck Dorrin's solar plexus before 
he even realized his XO was holding the pistol.  He was unconscious before he hit the 
floor.  "I'm assuming command," the XO said loudly.  "Stand down firing solution, 
prepare to engage the Vong.  We'll not let them escape without a fight."  There was 
some uncertainty amongst the men.  "You can't fire the superlaser without the command 
codes," the XO pointed out.  "Watch for the Vong's launch vector and move us to 
intercept.  All gunner crews are permitted to fire when they have a target."
	The rest of the fleet was already gone.  Nom Anor's coral ships had been 
located across the planet's surface, ensuring that no one ship could stop them all.  
Together they might have a chance against the Eclipse, but one Imperial ship, no matter 
its size, was worth risking the Hive.  The shield fell, and they made a break for it.  
The Shade blew away three coralships immediately, and caught another two attempting to 
flee, but it was a small percentage of the Hive, and Nom Anor himself managed to escape 
on a single coralskipper.  He'd reasoned that they wouldn't waste their efforts on one 
small ship given the choice of targets, and it was important that he escape as well.  
Without him, the Hive would lack direction, and could even become a threat to the Vong.
	The Shade tried to follow the escaping fleet, but the Vong forces quickly 
scattered.  Eventually, their forces were lost in hyperspace, and the Shade had to give 
up the hunt.  Captain Dorrin had recovered by then and had his XO thrown in the brig 
for mutiny.  As for the rest of their fleet, the Vong coralskippers had been destroyed 
or driven off with little further loss to the Empire.  It was a rather small victory 
compared to what Dorrin knew would come of the Vong's escape.

	Alema Rar, like many of the students, didn't get on too well with Jacen Solo, 
but when he told her they were going on special assignment into Vong territory, 
refusing wasn't even considered.  The Twi'lek girl had a score to settle with the Vong, 
and while vengeance was not an idea the Jedi believed in, there was nothing wrong with 
striking a blow against their enemy to further the war effort.  Still, she wasn't 
particularly happy with the company she was keeping, and she barely said three words 
the entire trip into Vong space.  Things all changed once they exited hyperspace.  
Jacen flipped on the ship's cloaking device, causing all the sensors to go dead and 
plunging them into darkness.  He explained to her what he was doing, how the Force was 
guiding him so that he wouldn't fly into anything.  With it, you didn't need eyes or 
sensors, just your instincts.  She understood, but she was glad she wasn't the once at 
the controls; she had accepted a lot, but landing blind was something she'd rather wait 
on until she had more experience.
	Still, Alema couldn't argue with Jacen; the ship settled down gently on the 
planet's surface.  He powered down the ship and they could see again.  Together the two 
started unloading the equipment.  It was one thing to say they were going to poison the 
planet, it was another to have to do it.  Even at low concentrations it was requiring 
dozens of tanks of compressed chemicals to get the job done.  "Start bringing the 
equipment to that forest," Jacen said, pointing to the treeline some twenty meters 
away.  "The foliage should keep it out of sight from Vong patrols."
	"Will the trees absorb the chemical?" Alema asked.
	"Some, that's why we've got the dispenser.  We'll bury the pipe connecting it 
to the pump so the rest will be in cover.  The only way the Vong would find it is if 
they tripped over it."
	Alema nodded and loaded the repulsor-sled while Jacen continued to unload the 
equipment.  She was only a few meters from the tree when she felt the presence, and she 
froze.  A woman was standing in the shadows, waiting.  When Alema stopped she stepped 
into view, and she recognized the woman: Molly O'Brien, the one who'd helped kill the 
Emperor.  Alema nervously grabbed her lightsaber; Molly already had hers out and 
switched it on.  Alema had done some sparring, but she was out of her league and knew 
it.  She blocked Molly's initial attack, but she was immediately on the defensive.  Her 
blue blade clashed against Molly's red on instinct, but the hatred coming from her was 
something Alema hadn't been prepared for.  It was disconcerting, and in that moment she 
knew that despite what she liked to think, she wasn't ready for this.
	Molly suddenly whirled, her lightsaber catching Jacen's just as he swung.  
Alema tried to strike while she was distracted, but Molly stuck out her foot, catching 
the Twi'lek in the chest and knocking her over backwards.  Even that didn't stop her 
from holding Jacen back, and Alema decided to stay back and let her teacher handle 
this.
	Sabers clashed and Molly called on her hatred.  She had years of training 
behind her and a merciless instructor.  But Jacen had a lifetime of experience.  Her 
strikes were easily blocked, and his own advances were barely caught.  There was no 
need to treat this as a life or death match, so Jacen patiently waited for the opening.  
It came soon enough; Molly went for a decapitation, but Jacen ducked it and touched the 
tip of his saber to her forearm, searing her flesh and causing the weapon to drop from 
her grip.  She backed away carefully, holding her wound while he approached, saber 
pointed directly at her.  "Ben?" she said nervously.  "Ben?"
	"All part of the lesson," a voice said, and Jacen turned and saw the crowd 
gathered on the small rise nearby.  He glanced between Molly and them; they'd hidden 
themselves rather well for the moment, but now he could sense the Dark side in them.  
Their leader stepped forward, and Jacen recognized the picture Anakin had shown him.  
Black cloak, the mask of Revan, and the unmistakable feel of dark side power.  This was 
the Sith, without a doubt.  "As you can see, a Jedi 'Padawan' is poorly trained and 
easy prey.  The fully trained Jedi, however, is a more dangerous adversary."  He pulled 
his lightsaber from his belt.  "But not for a Sith Lord."


CHAPTER XX

	Provag, a Vong planet, is important because of its support to their war effort.  
Their ships -coral ships and coralskippers- were grown on worlds like this one and had 
allowed the nearly vanquished foe to bounce back.  Yet, at this moment, all of that was 
incidental.  No Vong participated in the conflict that occurred on their planet, and 
while it might seem minor, the two sides involved were both working to shape the face 
of this galaxy.  Whichever one won here today would be at the advantage.  Jacen, Jedi 
Knight, knew this, and took this responsibility seriously.  Their enemies, the Sith, 
had them easily outnumbered, and if Molly O'Brien was any indication, they had 
potential.  If they all attacked, Jacen could probably handle the lesser trained ones, 
but the Sith Lord was going to be the problem.  However, he could sense that this 
wasn't an ambush, but rather a duel.  That improved the odds, but not by much.  
	The Sith Lord -Ben- removed the mask and handed it to one of the others that 
stood with him.  It was just like Anakin said: eerily close, but not quite right for 
Sebastian's face.  Still, it was easy to see how it could fool people from far away.  
"I'll handle this," he told Alema, shrugging off his robe.  The Sith kept it on; a sign 
of his overconfidence?  It fit with the overall feeling he was getting from him: 
contempt mixed with anger, and he practically glowed with Dark side power.  If Alema 
were better trained, he'd ask for the help in a heartbeat.
	"Watch and learn," Ben said to the other Sith in a voice that was all business.  
Jacen steeled himself for the onslaught, but Ben walked towards him.  He was casual, as 
if he were merely enjoying the afternoon rather than about to start a battle that would 
likely end in death.  A few meters away he lit his lightsaber, but Jacen still waited 
with a Jedi's patience.  When he was within range Ben made a few strikes, but they 
seemed half-hearted, almost like a child with a stick.  Jacen easily blocked the simple 
attacks and then moved on the offensive, but the Sith resisted.  He held the lightsaber 
one handed, mostly just rotating his wrist to block Jacen's strikes; pure showmanship, 
except that Jacen couldn't pierce his defenses!  Still, the Sith's toying was his 
weakness, and Jacen knew it was his best chance of besting him.  He increased the speed 
of the strikes, his opponent still maintaining the same aloof manner, but it was 
setting up.  He made a feint and reversed it, coming around too fast for the Sith to 
catch with his clumsy technique.
	There was a crash and a jarring sensation that nearly knocked Jacen's 
lightsaber out of his grip.  A short lightsaber blade had caught the strike, and he 
could see Ben's look of smug superiority.  I could have just killed you, he said in 
Jacen's mind, but that would have been too short a lesson.  Instead he pushed aside 
Jacen's blade, and for a moment Jacen saw it wasn't a regular lightsaber, but a kind of 
merging of a lightsaber with a set of brass knuckles.  It was only a moment, because 
they struck his face and knocked him a step backwards, then the hand open and Jacen was 
lifted off his feet and tossed backwards.  He got back to his feet, but Ben had 
extinguished both of his weapons.  Now he undid the robe and let it fall to the ground, 
reactivated the lightsaber, and gave it a few swings before taking it in both hands and 
adopting an imposing stance.  
	"To a skilled Sith," Ben said to his followers, "the Jedi is the closest thing 
to a worthy adversary."  He leapt, arcing high through the air towards Jacen, shouting, 
"But it's still not enough!"  His strike was sudden and violent, but Jacen was able to 
hold it back while the Sith landed, but after that was a descent into despair.  If 
Jacen thought he had been pouring on the pressure before, he immediately learned how 
wrong he'd been.  Compared to Ben's strikes, it was like he had been fighting in 
molasses, and it was all he could do to keep his lightsaber ahead of the whirling red 
storm.  Sweat ran down his face, but he fought his fear and locked blades with the 
Sith, the air filling with the screams of protesting energy blades.  Ben grinned at 
him, then winked, and with the slightest gesture Jacen's feet were pulled out from 
under him, dropping him on his backside.  Still, he held his blade up in defiance, 
should Ben try to push the attack; but again, he didn't.  He was toying with him, and 
the infuriating part was that he could!  "See where the path of 'peace' leads you," he 
called to his followers.  "Prone and helpless before superior strength."
	Jacen hopped back to his feet.  "That's a lie," he said.  "There is nothing the 
dark gives you that the light can't as well, except the capacity for self-
destruction."  He followed it up with a quick strike at Ben's knees, but the Sith 
caught it with a twist of the blade and nearly bisected Jacen for the effort.
	"Quicker, easier," Ben parroted.  "I've heard it all before.  Jedi propaganda, 
Jacen; you know it as much as I."  He swung, and Jacen blocked, but the blow was so 
strong it forced him backwards.  Ben did it a second time, then a third.  "Do you think 
I was always a Sith?" he asked as he struck, causing Jacen's legs to quake slightly 
under the strain.  "I learned the ways of the Jedi... but I also learned that they are 
tainted by lies."  Jacen tried a counterattack, but it was blocked and the 
counterstrike barely missed his head, and it was back to the red storm for a moment 
until Ben relented.  "Look at you," he said contemptuously, "so much focus required for 
survival you can't even spout their 'wisdom' at me."
	Jacen was breathing heavy, his body screaming from the constant tension despite 
using the Force for strength.  "You want... to talk... let's talk... not fight..."  It 
was hard to get even that much out.  Then Ben's attack stopped, but Jacen had to try to 
end this, so he went on the offensive for a moment, but Ben caught the strike.  Still, 
the Sith seemed to have backed off for the moment.  Apparently this was some kind of 
lesson for his "students," and his main concern was in making the points clear.  Well, 
if it fell to him to defend their teachings, then so be it.  "The Jedi use the Force 
for protection," Jacen said.  "We use our power to protect the weak."
	Ben caught the strike and ground the blades together.  "And who will protect 
you?" he asked with a smirk.  He let five quick blows make his point for him, forcing 
Jacen on the defensive again.  Then, once again, he stopped.  "That's a question you 
had best answer," he said, "because I have already killed one of your number."  He 
lashed out, just once.  "And it won't be the last."
	Jacen blocked and counterthrust.  "We'll see about that," he said in a low 
voice.
	Ben wore a lopsided grin.  "Will you?"  He launched another attack, then drew 
back.  "More to the point, could you?  Never for attack, Jacen, remember?  Never for 
attack."
	"I'll kill you," Jacen said, "but only if I have to?"
	"Will you?"  Jacen swung at a brief opening.  "I have vowed," Ben blocked the 
strike casually, "that so long as I have breath I will work to destroy the Jedi."  His 
blade was everywhere Jacen tried to strike, but there was practically no movement on 
his part, as if the Sith wasn't even really trying.  "That means, Jedi, that there is 
only one way to protect your beloved order."  He blocked, stuck out his hand, and 
knocked Jacen backwards four meters.  Jacen rolled back to his feet, ready for the 
inevitable attack, but it never came.  Ben just stood there, hand still outreached, 
smiling.  "You can't stop me otherwise," he said calmly.  "No prison can hold me, even 
if you were to somehow catch me.  Would you try to put me in some stasis field?  Live 
out your days wondering if some saboteur, or power failure, or merely the power of a 
Sith could overcome it and release me to fulfill my vow?  How much death could you stop 
by running me through, Jedi?"
	"I've wondered that myself," Jacen said under his voice.  He was rewarded by a 
look of satisfaction from Ben.
	"Then make sure that you do," Ben said.  He leapt, and Jacen brought his blade 
up to block the strike.  He was quickly forced back, and Ben was swinging incredibly 
fast, Jacen's blade barely staying ahead of it.  Through it all, the grin never left, 
an insufferable look of such superiority, that Jacen was something to laugh at for 
trying to resist a Sith.  Jacen wanted to stick his fist into that face, but it was all 
he could do to hold back the attack.  As he caught another blow Ben gestured and Jacen 
was flipped over backwards and landed face down on the ground.  He rolled over and 
Ben's lightsaber was hovering an inch from his chest.
	"You haven't killed, have you?" Ben asked.  "Not like this, where you have a 
moment to know what you're about to do."  The air sizzled around the end of the red 
beam, the smell of ozone filling Jacen's nostrils.  "You look into the eyes of another 
being, and they know you have them at your mercy.  Someone just like you who doesn't 
want to die.  It's the simplest of gestures to finish them, the pulling of a trigger, 
the thrust of a blade... all that it takes to extinguish that tiny flame of life in 
them.  And then you watch those eyes... the way they gloss over and show the moment 
that separated a living being from so much organic matter."  The blade moved closer to 
Jacen's face.  "Tell me, Jacen Solo... what part of your Jedi training ever prepared 
you for that moment?"
	Jacen pried his eyes from the lightsaber to the man holding it.  The smile was 
still there.  "Nothing... because a Jedi would never do such a thing."  He swung and 
knocked the blade away for the moment, rolling aside before it pierced the ground where 
his head had been.  Arching his back, he flipped back to his feet and swung at the 
Sith's back, but Ben brought the blade back over his head to catch it, then twisted and 
swung horizontally into Jacen's own blade.  It left an opening, so Jacen swung, and Ben 
had to leap back to get out of the way.  Jacen got back into a defensive position, but 
Ben instead stopped, spinning his blade.
	"I was twelve when I learned just how wrong you are," Ben said.  "I was 
fighting a Vong warrior who had thought me easy prey, but even with their resistance 
and my youth he was no match for me."  He gestured suddenly and a cloud of dust rose up 
into Jacen's eyes.  Jacen coughed, but used his instincts to catch the swings, but he 
could sense that Ben was still just playing with him.  "I had him down, unarmed and 
helpless, much like you were a moment ago," the Sith continued.  "And I looked at him, 
and he looked back at me, and nothing had prepared me for that moment.  The Jedi 
training had prepared me for every step before that, but not the last one.  And he saw 
the fear in my eyes, and he laughed at me."  There was a sudden flicker of rage at the 
memory.  "At me!  And in that moment I discovered how you can take that final step: you 
have to hate.  You have to know that this is a life that deserves death.  Anger, 
contempt, those are the only ways to finish this."  Jacen was tossed back again; he 
really wished Ben would stop doing that.  He managed to rub the dirt from his eyes, and 
he could see that Ben was actually speaking to Alema, not his followers.  "That is why 
the Dark side is the true path of the Force."
	"No," Jacen said emphatically.  "Only quicker."
	"That is the lie," Ben said sharply.  "For all your Jedi training, you are 
nothing compared to me, and you never will be.  The Dark side opens up powers you have 
never imagined, Jacen.  Your ambitions know this; I can feel it within you.  If you 
come with me, I can help you fulfill your thirst for power."
	"You have no idea what I want," Jacen said, leaping at the Sith, swinging his 
blade.  Ben blocked it and just as easily tossed Jacen aside.
	"Don't think I'll be taken in by the lies you tell yourself," Ben said.  "Look 
at them," he gestured to the gathered Sith.  "Eager to learn, ready to follow the true 
path.  By birthright you can stand at my side, Jacen over an army of Jedi.  Isn't that 
what you've really been envisioning?"
	"No," Jacen said, saber held out towards Ben as he got to his feet.
	Ben shook his head.  "If you could only know the power of the Dark side."  He 
turned off his lightsaber and tossed it to Molly.  "Use your weapon, Jedi.  I'm 
waiting... laughing at you.  Let your hatred free you."
	Jacen stepped closer, saber still pointed at Ben.  Sith egotism... at least now 
he had the upper hand.  "Come with me," he said.  "We'll see you get a fair trial."  
Ben started laughing at him.  "I will not kill you."
	"Weak, pathetic, idiot," Ben said as he continued laughing.  "What will you do 
then, if I refuse?  Dismember me?  Are you prepared to do that deed, just to bend me to 
your will?  Of course not, that would require passion, convictions, qualities you sadly 
lack."  Jacen took a step closer.  "All your years of Jedi training, and none of it has 
prepared for you to deal with this moment.  Can you find the part within you that can 
kill?  If not, your empty threats are just a pitiful attempt to hold to the teachings 
of men long turned to dust."  Ben held his arms wide and stepped closer, so that the 
blade was inches from his chest.  "That is why the Dark side is the one true path.  
Were I in your position, I would already be off this planet and heading for home." 
	Jacen thrust the blade.  He didn't know what compelled him to do it, but 
something inside him told him he had no choice.  Whether it was anger or fear or 
something else he couldn't have said, but he moved to kill.
	Ben wasn't there.
	The Sith's move was impossibly fast, yet he somehow managed to twist to the 
side and move past the blade even as Jacen had struck.  His hand dropped down on 
Jacen's, thumbing the off button on the saber.  The blade extinguished, he moved 
forward, grabbing the hand with his remaining hand while giving himself leverage.  In 
less than a second, Jacen was hunched over, the end of his lightsaber pressed against 
his solar plexus.  "Did you feel the anger within you?" Ben whispered in his ear.  
Jacen said nothing.  "You could have been at my side, cousin.  Look at me."  Jacen 
looked up into Ben's eyes.  "Here is the power hate gives you."  He thumbed the on 
switch, and the blade emerged from Jacen's back.  Ben switched it off and pulled it 
away, letting Jacen's lifeless body fall to the ground.



CHAPTER XXI

	Alema watched Jacen Solo's body hit the ground without even a flicker of life 
in his body.  The Sith was still holding her teacher's lightsaber; he attached it to 
his belt.  "Shall I deal with this one, master?" asked a Romulan woman with a smug 
expression, gesturing slightly towards Alema.
	"Do you want a fight, little Jedi?" the Sith asked her.  His look froze the air 
in her lungs with fear, a terror amplified by the knowledge that he could probably 
sense it.  He removed all doubt.  "Fear is good... it will empower even the coward to 
fight like a beast when cornered.  You, child, are not cornered."  He made a small 
gesture, and the tanks toppled off the repulsor-sled.  Another, and it floated over to 
where Jacen's body lay.  "Take this back to your Jedi Order," he said.  "Let them see 
the power the Dark side grants."  Alema jumped as the distributor crumpled next to her, 
and the Sith smirked at her before slipping his mask back on.  "With proper training, 
you may learn the true power of the Force."  His students disappeared over the hill, 
followed by Molly and the Sith himself, leaving Alema alone with Jacen.  She vainly 
checked for a sign of life, but there was nothing.  She pushed him onto the sled and 
brought him back to the ship.
	Alema looked over the distributor; it was useless now, and without it she 
couldn't complete the mission.  There had barely been enough room for the equipment 
they'd needed, so there was no spare, and she had no idea how to jury-rig one.  She 
finally gave up and climbed back onboard the ship, strapping herself into the pilot's 
seat with uncertainty.  It looked like she wasn't going to have time to learn before 
trying this.  She flipped on the cloak and watched everything go dark.  She had nothing 
but instincts now, but at least she knew that going up was safer than coming down.  She 
eased the ship into the air and tried using her feelings.  The images were vague and 
practically useless; eventually she decided to kick her speed up and hope her danger 
sense would kick in.  After a few minutes she flipped the cloak off; she'd cleared the 
atmosphere, but two Vong coralskippers were nearby.  As they began moving to intercept 
she tried to get the nav computer going while making some evasive maneuvers.  It would 
be embarrassing to survive a group of Sith warriors only to die by a remote-piloted 
ship.  Thankfully her danger sense kept her out of harms way long enough to punch the 
hyperdrive and vanish.

	Alema's return marked a change in the fledgling Jedi Academy.  None of them had 
particularly cared for Jacen, but word of his death filled them with more grief than 
they would have expected.  Grief, and despair, because if a Jedi like Jacen couldn't 
stand up to the Sith, what chance did any of them have?
	The failure of their mission was of no concern to anyone, although Alema had 
been quite upset at her failure to at least finish what Jacen had died starting.  It 
wasn't about revenge, which Jaina had taken as a good thing, probably the only good 
thing that had come out of this.
	Jacen had been brought to the site of the Jedi Academy and laid out.  They 
discussed briefly the traditional funeral rites, but all discussions stopped as Leia 
Organa Solo entered the chamber.  They parted to allow her to see her son.  She shed no 
tears at first, but the grief was almost a tangible thing for even the weakest Jedi as 
she slowly stroked his forehead.  A line of blood slid down her chin as she bit into 
her lip, and the sadness found an exit as she bent over Jacen's body and wept.  No one 
said anything, not even Jaina; it was a grief they knew they couldn't understand the 
depths of.  She straightened up, wiping her eyes.  "How did it happen?" she asked.  
Alema told her everything.  "Jaina, your father can be here in a day and a half; put 
him in stasis, we'll have the funeral the day after tomorrow."
	"What about Anakin?" she asked.
	"He could be gone for a week or longer," Leia said.  "And we can't contact him 
on Ilum."  She shook her head, then walked out.  Volgo Terraine found her on her way 
back to the palace.
	"I heard what happened," he said, "and I'm sorry.  If there's anything I can 
do-"
	"Yes," Leia said sharply.  "You find this Sith, and you tell me where he is, 
and I can kriffing stop him from MURDERING MY FAMILY!!!"
	Terraine took a moment before replying.  "Yes, minister."  She was back on her 
way and he fell into step.  "I would, however, like to point out that tracking the Sith 
is no easy task."
	"Five hundred thousand credits," she said without missing a step.  "Whoever 
finds out where the Sith is and can lead me to him.  Put it out on the holonet.  I want 
every ISB agent, every soldier, docking attendant, local policeman, bounty hunter, 
tracker, amateur astronomer looking for this man.  He is not walking about my Empire 
unchecked any more."
	Terraine nodded as he stayed in step with her.  "Respectfully, minister, even 
if we find him, what do you plan on doing?  So far he's eliminated two Jedi and fought 
his way through an army of royal guards."
	"First find him," Leia said.  "I'll deal with him in my own way."

	Han had found out what had happened as soon as Leia returned to the palace.  
Before the conversation even ended Leia's staff had leapt into action.  It was rare 
that the minister threw her weight around, but this was an exception.  The Millennium 
Falcon was moved to the head of the queue for refueling and launch.  It was given 
permission to pass through the wormhole without bothering for code clearance.  Its 
flight path was cleared.  A docking bay on Chandrilla near the Jedi temple was set 
aside, even though it had been reserved for the Rodian diplomatic corps.  The pressure 
of the Empire was getting to be too much; she needed some kind of closure on this, even 
if it meant ruffling a few feathers to expedite this.  Jacen had died trying to protect 
this Empire, the least it could do was show a little appreciation.
	Twenty-seven hours, including refueling; a record even for the fastest ship in 
the galaxy.  Leia waited as the Falcon settled onto the pad, then came out even before 
the ramp was lowered.  Han was soon down it; they embraced right there.  They said 
nothing, because a husband and wife in a moment like this have ways of communicating 
that put even the Force to shame.  The preparations were already in place; Jacen had 
been dressed in his ceremonial robe for this occasion.  The gathered Jedi were 
similarly attired; for many this was their first time in this role.  Terraine was 
there, Dr. Bashir, the Chancellor, a few representatives of the state.  Most didn't 
know Jacen, and it bothered Leia for a little while.  She understood now why Annika 
wanted to keep Luke's funeral a private thing.  Let this moment be for the people who 
care rather than the ones interested in making an impression.  But it was too late now, 
and she didn't want to cause a scene.
	Han had been allowed a few moments with Jacen; Leia was the only one in the 
room at the time.  He didn't cry; Leia wondered if he ever did.  He'd make a poor Jedi, 
she thought; he turns his pain into anger.  He kissed Jacen on the cheek where he'd 
always kissed the child.  No words of bravado or vengeance, just a kiss.  It brought 
the tears back to Leia's eyes.
	With the crowd assembled Jaina lit the pyre, and Jacen's remains soon turned to 
smoke and slipped away, much like his spirit that had become one with the Force.  It 
brought her comfort for the moment, but his death was a wound that wouldn't heal 
easily.  All this did was allow her to put the tragedy behind her.  

	Han stayed for a few days.  No doubt he wanted to be here for his family now 
since he couldn't have been there for his son.  Leia almost expected him to fly out to 
Ilum and bring Anakin back.  Leia threw herself into her work, but the war with the 
Vong offered no real comfort.  They were floundering in their efforts against a 
smaller, weaker enemy because they were being attacked from within.  She ranted about 
it to Han one evening in their quarters.
	"In many ways, it's like fighting the Empire again," she said.  "The Vong 
aren't divided, they don't have to worry about their subjects being happy or 
rebellious.  That's why they can afford to hit us with their worst and never worry 
about their own people sabotaging their efforts."
	"It's the price we pay for being the good guys," Han said.
	"Yeah, good guys with planet-destroying weaponry," Leia said, getting to her 
feet and passing during her tirade.  "Morally reprehensible weaponry at our disposal, 
and the only thing worse than that is that we can't even use it when we need it!"
	Han nodded a little.  "Is it true what they say about the Shade?  They tried to 
fire."
	"Yes," Leia said.  "Frankly, I wish they had."
	"Almost did, according to rumor.  There was a mutiny or something?"  A sound of 
frustration.  "I'll take that as a yes."
	Leia shook her head in disbelief as she continued pacing.  "Mutiny... on an 
Imperial star destroyer!  Duplicity, undermining, okay, that comes with the territory, 
but blasters being used on the bridge?!"
	"What's going to happen?" Han asked.  "Court martial?"
	Leia stopped.  "We don't know," she said.  "Both men were in the right, and in 
the wrong.  We side with the captain, we're telling the captains and XO's to ignore 
everything we've taught them regarding the superlasers.  We side with the XO-"
	"And you set the precedent that it's okay to use force to relieve a captain of 
his command," Han finished.  "I don't envy you this problem."
	"But that's just a small part of the picture," Leia said.  "Whether he was 
right or wrong, this captain is the first to disregard the civilian government's 
orders.  This is exactly what I've wanted to avoid."
	"You worried about a military coup?" Han asked.
	"Maybe, or just disregarding our government altogether.  The return of the 
Empire we both fought to overthrow."
	Han came over and wrapped his arms around her; part of being a husband is 
knowing when that was necessary.  "You'll get us through," he said.
	"Not all of us," she said with a choke in her voice.  He held her tighter; she 
reciprocated.  "Ben had to have known," she said.  "He had to know that if he died, 
Jacen would have to travel to that world and die.  How could he let that happen?"
	"Don't," Han said.  "You start playing those games it's going to drive you 
insane."
	"I devoted half my life to his vision of Unity," she continued.  "And he 
destroyed my work and took my son for the trouble!"  Han tried to comfort her, but 
there was nothing anyone could say or do; the exhaustion, the frustration, the grief, 
like an alchemical nightmare they mixed and bubbled and fused, until they produced an 
idea that was as horrible as anything, yet it was the only conclusion to reach.  "I 
have to go," she said, pulling away.
	Han knew the look; that was another part of being a husband.  "Don't do 
anything foolish," he warned.  
	"I think it might be the first smart thing I've done," she said as she walked 
out.  The door sealed without so much as a goodbye.  
	Han sighed.  "I've got a bad feeling about this," he said under his breath, 
then left for his ship.  

	The Sith entourage exited the craft and immediately got to training under 
Molly's supervision.  Ben Skywalker left them to it; he didn't need to hold their hands 
the entire way.  The Oracle wasn't in the laboratory, but she had left a datapad out 
for him.  He picked it up and flicked it on, his frown slipping into a grin of 
satisfaction.  Half a million credits?  At least they'd finally taken notice of him.  
This would probably light a fire under the Orion Syndicate, who no doubt assumed his 
local counterpart was him.  It would be insulting under most normal circumstances, but 
this was rather abnormal all around.
	Ben entered his quarters and pulled out his trophy.  He placed the lightsaber 
up on the rack next to the one he'd taken from Luke Skywalker - the Luke Skywalker from 
this universe.  That hadn't made much of a difference, he'd still proven a dangerous 
enemy, and his lightsaber was a worthy prize.  Jacen was something of a disappointment, 
but he was rather young here, it was to be expected.  
	Two sabers... he had a rather impressive trophy room back on board his ship in 
his own realm, one he'd earned through years of stalking and defeating his former Jedi 
allies.  He'd shown them the path of power, but not one had chosen to follow it, just 
like poor Jacen.  Maybe these Jedi students would learn a thing or two and not make 
that same mistake.

	It was another emergency session of the Senate.  There seemed to be a great 
deal of them lately, but given the number of emergencies across the Empire, it was 
expected.  For Alixus, it was a sign that she and her Vong allies were having an 
impact.  The funeral for Jacen Solo was proof that her Sith contact was having his own, 
although how he fit into all of this, and where he got his information from, was still 
an uncertainty.  The contempt he showed towards the Vong was hardly promising; they 
weren't perfect, but they had the right idea.  Get rid of technology, and let a human 
being stand on his or her own two feet for a change.  The Vong were the wake up call 
humanity needed, while the Sith seemed interested only in his own agenda.
	The Chancellor called the session to order and the noise died down.  The 
monitor showed his discomfort in this affair, and Alixus wondered for a moment what had 
him so visibly agitated.  She soon found out.
	"Minister Solo has asked for this emergency session of the Senate to address 
you all about the state of affairs within the Empire.  Because of the war she has had 
to leave Chandrilla for the moment to address some matters personally, but she has left 
a holographic recording that she has asked be played for you now."  
	The Chancellor stepped aside.  Where he had stood now showed a holographic 
image of Leia Organa Solo, looking grimmer than usual.  "Members of the Imperial 
Senate," she said in greeting.  "I apologize that I cannot address this to you in 
person, as I'm sure you'll have a great deal of questions.  However, the war against 
the Vong now requires my immediate attention, and I'm afraid I will not be in a 
position to address you remotely at this time.
	"In a matter of a few days we have twice failed to deal serious blows against 
the Vong military, despite having the means to do so.  The reason is simply that we 
have not been prepared to fight this enemy as the situation demands, or to deal with 
the insurgents that have aided them since before this war began.  The price of defeat, 
senators, is not subjugation, but extermination.  I'm afraid that, given the 
circumstances, we can ill-afford to continue fighting this war with one hand tied 
behind our backs. 	"What I'm about to tell you is a decision I did not come to 
lightly.  It's one I would have found abhorrent a week ago, but today I see as the only 
solution left that can save us from extinction.  The Empire has been moving towards a 
weak central government, with power vested in the hands of the systems... towards the 
days of the Old Republic.  It seems we will be following their example once again."  
She hesitated.  "I've spoken with our military leadership and high ranking civilian 
authorities, and there has been almost universal agreement to this course of action.  
We need a central figure to hold us together for the duration of this war, someone to 
be the final authority.  Because of my experience in these matters, it's been decided 
that someone will be me."  She paused, no doubt in anticipation of the outburst that 
followed.  "I assure you that this will only be for the duration of the war.  For now, 
however, I have been given the position of 'Emperor' to carry out the duties formerly 
entrusted to Palpatine.  When the war ends, I will lay down this authority, I swear it.  
In the meantime, the Senate is dismissed with the thanks of the Imperial government.  
And may the Force be with us all."



CHAPTER XXII

	Empress Leia Organa Solo stood at the center of the bridge of the Shade, 
watching the passing tunnel of hyperspace.  By outward appearance, she was an unmoving 
monument to strength and determination.  Inside, her heart was pounding with a fury 
that threatened to split her chest open.  She opened her mouth to say words she never 
would have imagined could have come from her throat.  "Captain," she said in a crisp 
voice, "prepare the superlaser to fire the moment we emerge from hyperspace."
	The Shade's captain nodded, then relayed it to his XO to carry out.  There was 
no need for anyone else's approval, no one to second guess her.  She said to destroy an 
entire planet, and an entire planet would be destroyed.  That kind of power was 
frightening to wield; what terrified her more was that one day it wouldn't.  Destroying 
a world would be routine for her, and when that happened, would she be able to give it 
up?  There was no more time to think about it, though; she'd brought the Shade out here 
to deal a blow against the Vong.  If she turned back now, it would be a sign of 
weakness before the military leadership, and they might consider taking matters into 
their own hands.  
	The Shade and a twenty-two star destroyer escort emerged from hyperspace inside 
the Provag system.  The Vong had increased their fleet presence, but not enough.  The 
word probably hadn't reached them that the Empire wasn't playing by the same old rules.  
The officers went about their work, but Leia didn't hear any of it.  There was just the 
sign of Vong forces, there to defend a Vong planet, a planet she was going to destroy.  
There were no innocent bystanders amongst the Vong; it was like fighting the Borg in 
that regard.  Everyone was part of the military in some fashion, everyone was devoted 
to the cause, and every resource was devoted to their war effort.  There was no 
collateral damage when you fought the Vong, except against your own people amongst 
them.  It didn't offer her as much comfort as she'd hoped.
	"Empress," the captain said to her, jerking her back to the task at hand.  "We 
have a firing solution."
	Leia nodded.  The planet was a distant dot from this range... not like 
Alderaan.  It was nothing like Alderaan.  Alderaan was peaceful, and beautiful, and 
home to a culture whose richness was known across the galaxy.  This was just some empty 
world the Vong terraformed.  It was here only to serve the cause of war, to try to 
destroy her people.  It had consumed her son... yes, she focused on that thought.  
Jacen, lying on his pyre, dead because of this world.  "Fire," she said, startled at 
how easily the word came out.  Green energy lanced from the distant tip of the ship 
through space.  It hit the small dot, which glowed for a moment, then was gone.  It was 
so simple, so quick... had Tarkin gotten up close to Alderaan just to make for a better 
show?  Probably, given his reputation for sadism.
	"Target destroyed, empress," the captain reported.  "Should we withdraw?"
	"No, captain," Leia said.  "We have the Vong confused.  Let's mop these Vong up 
first before we proceed."
	The captain tried to hide a smile; finally, they were fighting like they were 
the Empire again.  "Yes, empress," he said emphatically and returned to conduct the 
battle.  Leia watched distantly, reflecting on what had just happened, what she had 
just done.  It was over, and she was glad for it, because it had to be done.  Now all 
she could have were regrets, not second guesses, not refusal.  Every time she started 
to feel guilt, she remembered Jacen, and the feeling went away.  
	Beyond the window a Vong coralship exploded under fire from the Shade.  For 
some reason the sight made her smile.

	The Oracle was talking to Garak again when Ben Skywalker exited his quarters.  
He waited with his usual impatience while they finished; the Oracle cut the 
transmission.  "What was that about?" he demanded.
	"Just addressing a security issue, my lord," she replied.
	"What security issue?" he asked again, letting his teeth show.
	"It's nothing to be concerned about, my lord," the Oracle replied.  "Just a 
detail or two.  I thought you were more interested in the Jedi."
	Ben brooded, but she was right about where his interest lay, and there wasn't 
really anything he needed to worry about from her.  "Leia Solo," he said.  "She's the 
only real threat left.  You think you know everything, so tell me; where do I go, so I 
may kill her?"
	"She's Empress now," the Oracle replied.  "It would be exceedingly difficult to 
reach her now."
	"I don't care about difficult," Ben said irritably.
	"Of course, my lord.  But if I may, there is a simple way to deal with her."
	"How?"
	"She already wants to face you.  Let her seek you out, and you can dispose of 
her as you like."
	"I grow tired of waiting-" Ben began.
	"Respectfully, lord, this will not take long.  You merely have to show 
yourself, and she will come to you."  She held up a datapad.  "May I suggest this?"
	Ben yanked it from her grip and looked it over, and despite himself a smile 
slowly crossed his face.  "Yes," he said slowly, "I had almost forgotten.  Did Alixus 
heed our warnings?"
	"Yes, it is proceeding as I have foreseen it.  If you depart now, my lord, you 
will have time to deal with him and attract the interest of the Empress."
	"Very good," he said, and returned to his quarters to prepare himself.  As he 
did he took note of his trophy display.  Two already there, and soon he would add Leia 
Organa Solo's and Sebastian Skywalker's.

	Finding Thorim Glesser on Trodendt proved easy; persuading her to talk was less 
so.  Her will was too strong to manipulate, and Sebastian had a tough time looking the 
other way when Gorren used his persuasive talents on females.  Perhaps it was 
chauvinism, but Gorren had learned to adopt a different technique in such cases.  At 
the moment, he had a chair and was using it to smash up some equipment.  Kilana watched 
with obvious distaste.
	"Thorim," he mused as he worked.  "That doesn't sound like a Twi'lek name," he 
remarked.
	"It's probably an alias," Sebastian remarked as he held the white-skinned 
Twi'lek still while Gorren did his work.  "It is, isn't it?" he asked.
	"[You will pay for this!]" the woman snarled at him.  "[I can destroy your 
lives!]"
	"Indeed," Sebastian said.  "Gorren, I think you missed a spot."  
	"Ah, thank you," the Klingon replied, smashing up another display, causing an 
angry torrent of Huttese profanity.  He paused in his work.  "Hello," he said.  "What's 
this?"  He worked a small bit of the wall material until it all fell away in a neat 
section, revealing a wallsafe.  "If I were a slicer, I'd hide my dealings in something 
like this."
	"So would I," Sebastian remarked.  "Will you open it, or will we?"
	"[You can't,]" she replied.  "[It's set up so that an energy weapon or tool 
will erase the data.  Unless you can cut through it with physical tools, you're 
stuck.]"
	"We'll destroy the rest of your equipment if you don't open it," Sebastian 
said.
	"[I'll get more.]"
	As the argument was about to heat up, Kilana stepped forward.  "Wait," she 
said.  "Let me."  She looked down and closed her eyes.  She seemed to slowly raise her 
head, as if taking a deep breath.  As she did so, a glowing ball of white light seemed 
to emerge from her chest and rise up to neck height.  It lashed out and hit the 
wallsafe, blowing the door open.  She took another deep breath, then was aware that 
everyone was staring at her.  "Some of my people are allowed telekinetic abilities," 
she said.  "A gift from the Founders."
	"Speaking of gifts," Gorren said with a menacing grin.  Klingons were quite 
good at menacing grins.  "I think we have quite a selection here."
	"We want all your data from Dem Roz," Sebastian said.  "You can give us the 
right one, or we can just take them all.  It's your choice."  Thorim glowered, then 
reached out for them.  Gorren glanced at Sebastian, who nodded to him, and he handed 
them over to her.  She flipped through, then handed it over.  Gorren looked through it 
a moment, then gave it to Sebastian.  "Pleasure doing business with you," Sebastian 
remarked.  They left the cursing Twi'lek behind as they walked out onto the streets of 
Trodendt.

	Anakin Solo, Jedi knight, led the way through the cavern, quickly followed by 
Laudica Reshad, his apprentice for the moment.  He held a small glowstick, but in the 
reflective walls of the cavern it was more than enough.  Laudica shivered as they 
walked, and it wasn't because of the cold of Ilum.  "This place feels strange," she 
said, constantly looking around her.  "I feel comfortable in some ways... and yet, I 
feel like I'm walking through a cemetery."
	"Ilum is sacred ground for the Jedi order," Anakin said, not turning back.  
"Tens of thousands of Jedi have walked this path.  The place remembers..."  He 
continued through a small opening in the wall into another cavern.
	"Come on," Laudica said.  "You're just trying to give me the willies."  
	Corellian bravado; Anakin knew it well.  She was spirited, and somewhat 
questioning of their teachings, but so what?  Knowledge and wisdom was at the core of 
the Jedi's purpose, parts of their philosophy from before they had taken an active role 
in the galaxy.  So long as she evaded the Dark side's lure her challenges were a sign 
of healthy thought.  Anakin stopped.  "Close your eyes," he said.  She stopped and put 
one hand on her hip at his behavior, but Anakin's expression was more than enough.  As 
if humoring him, she sighed and closed her eyes.  "Stretch out with your feelings," he 
said, then waited a moment.  "Open up your mind, Laudica, and-"  He stopped talking as 
he heard her gave a deep suction sound as if just struck in the solar plexus.  
	"Someone's watching me!" she said, looking around at the walls as if they were 
going to come to life any second.
	"Calm yourself," he said.  "You're safe."  She continued her panicked 
searching.  "The presence you sense is the impression of past Jedi."
	"Yeah, well whatever it is I don't like it," she said with sharpness and fear 
in her tone.
	"You're going to have to get used to it," Anakin said as kindly as possible.  
"Your senses are going to grow more acute as your knowledge of the Force grows.  
Come," he reached out to lead her by the hand, but she shrunk away.  "It's all right," 
he said. 	"No!" she said, "it's not all right!"
	"This is still new and frightening to you," Anakin said.  "But you have to 
trust me.  Here, feel my peace... share in it."  He reached out his mind towards her; 
at first she shrunk away, then slowly he could feel her start to accept it.  "Good... 
like passing flame from torch to torch, let the peace come to you and fill you with 
comfort."  Her movement was so quick he was caught off guard, but suddenly he felt her 
lips on his.  Almost as suddenly as it came she pulled back in horror and slapped him 
across the face.
	"What did you just do to me?" she demanded.
	"What?" Anakin replied, rubbing the stinging red spot on his cheek.
	"You did something to me just now," she said, her voice saturated with 
accusation.  "You made me do that."
	Anakin gave her a look.  "You obviously just-"
	"I'm not going to listen to your excuses," she shot back.  "I should have known 
from the beginning.  You set this up, didn't you."
	"I set this up so I could cross half the galaxy just to kiss you?" Anakin 
replied.  "Don't flatter yourself."
	"You bastard," she replied with a voice that could cut diamonds.  She tried 
slapping him again, but he caught the limb this time and held it, staring into her eyes 
to see the anger bubbling just beneath the surface.  She kissed him again, then pulled 
away and slapped him on the other side of the face with her free hand.
	"Would you stop that!" Anakin said at the end of his rope.
	"You are a disgusting pig," she said.  
	"And you are psychotic," Anakin said.  "And I've had it.  I'm going to go get 
the crystals, you can stay here and argue with the shadows."  He turned to leave, but 
she grabbed his shoulder and twisted him back.  In one movement she stepped into him, 
kissing him passionately as she knocked him over backwards.  As he lay back in shock, 
the passion in her mind was the emotional equivalent of a siren, and he found himself 
reciprocating.  As she fumbled for her coat, however, he pushed her away.  "No," he 
said, though it was hard to get the word out of his mouth, which seemed to disapprove 
of the conclusion the brain had reached.  "Let me take you back to the ship."
	"We don't need the ship," she answered coyly.
	"I'm taking you back to the ship," Anakin said, now in a better position to 
resist the thoughts, at least emotionally.  Physically it was a great position to 
indulge them.  "I'll finish the mission alone, okay."  He got up.
	Laudica's lust soon crumbled leaving resentment and anger in its wake.  "Is 
this some kind of sick joke?" she said barely below a shout.  "You having fun with me?"
	"No, it's-"  She tried slapping him again, but he knew now, and he blocked both 
slaps easily.  "Would you just-"  His voice turned to a squeak as she drove her knee 
into his lightsaber crystals.
	"And don't think of trying that crap on me again," she said with a look of evil 
satisfaction.  It vanished as Anakin straightened up.
	Anakin's cybernetic arm snapped out and caught her shoulder, whirled her 
around, and picked her up so she was standing on her toes.  "To the ship," he said in a 
voice like a rumble along a fault line.  He half-led, half-dragged her back to the 
ship.  Given her behavior, he locked the helm with his security code so she couldn't 
leave him stranded here.  "I'll be back," he told her, his words managing to convey the 
additional message "and you'd better not think of leaving."  Laudica said nothing as 
she flopped into a flight chair and watched him with unhidden malice as he exited the 
ship.

	Sebastian was scanning through the data while they walked, his eidetic memory 
storing away details for later contemplation.  Half way through he lowered the list, 
and started thinking.  "Han and Julian could probably use this to," he mused to Gorren.
	"They haven't had much success tracking down the cure for this disease," Gorren 
said.  "Any lead may be of help."
	Sebastian nodded.  "Gorren, would you stop at a public terminal and find out if 
Han wants to rendezvous with us somewhere?  I don't want to just broadcast the data 
over the holonet."
	Gorren responded with a nod of his own.  "You'll be at the Raven?" he asked.  
Sebastian answered in the affirmative and Gorren parted ways for the moment.  Kilana 
didn't seem as pleased.
	"You said you would take me to the Founder once our work here was completed," 
she said.
	"I will," Sebastian said.  "But this data is important-"
	"So is my getting to the Founder," she interrupted.  "Your concerns are 
secondary."
	"My concerns are for stopping an incurable disease that's crossing the galaxy 
and preventing the Vong from wiping out our people."
	"The Founder will know how to solve these problems," Kilana said confidently.  
	"Kilana, I've known the Founder, and I can tell you that he doesn't."  He 
turned and he could see the anger in her eyes at his remark.  "Something wrong?"
	"Yes," she replied coldly, "I find your lack of faith disturbing."
	"Look, the Falcon is coming from Chandrilla towards the wormhole," Sebastian 
pointed out.  "We wouldn't be going out of our way to meet with him.  After that, no 
more delays, okay?"
	Kilana seemed to struggle with it for a moment, then eventually said, "Fine.  
But I will hold you to that."
	"Don't worry," Sebastian said as they reached the docking bay.  They sat on a 
bench and waited.  A few minutes later their Klingon companion arrived.
	"I made contact with the Millennium Falcon," Gorren said, trying to suppress a 
grin.  "Solo suggested that we rendezvous with him at Wormhole Station."  He gave a 
deep belly laugh and hit Sebastian on the shoulder, not quite breaking the bone.
	"What's so special about Wormhole Station?" Kilana asked.
	"Jorielle Skywalker," Gorren said cheerfully.  "A proud warrior and the mate to 
our own proud warrior."  He hit Sebastian's other shoulder, apparently to balance them 
out.
	"It's been a while since we've been together," Sebastian explained.
	"I see," Kilana said, even though it was clear that she didn't.
	"Bah," Gorren said, falling back on the Klingon standard.  "You are a Vorta; 
you would not understand.  When we mate, we do so out of love, not like you did back in 
the Ferengi pleasure pit."
	"Gorren," Sebastian said sharply.
	"What I did," Kilana said, "I did out of love as well.  Love for the 
Founders."  She stood toe to toe with Gorren.  "You're a Klingon; you would not 
understand."
	"Yes," Gorren sneered, "Klingons do not understand willful slavery."
	"Is that not what you call marriage?" Kilana replied.  "To make the self 
subservient to another out of love for them?"
	"What you call love, I call genetic programming."
	"Enough," Sebastain said.  "Now I need to know that you two aren't going to be 
at each others throats while I'm with my willful slave, okay?"  
	Gorren drew himself up.  "I would not let even my own dishonor interfere in 
your happiness, my friend."
	"I won't distract you," Kilana said.
	"Good," Sebastian said.  Together the trio got on board the Raven and headed 
for orbit, then slipped into hyperspace.  Behind them, an Orion Syndicate freighter 
powered up its engines and followed.



CHAPTER XXIII

	Jorrielle Sunspring Skywalker opened the door to her quarters.  The man on the 
other side was wearing a blue and grey flight suit and a combination helmet-mask for 
breathing.  "I expected as much," she remarked sternly.  "All right, come in."  She 
stood aside and the man walked in; she sealed the door shut behind him.  Sebastian 
pulled the mask off; it was still in his hands when she struck, sending the two 
together into the wall behind Sebastian, her lips on his as her arms tried making up 
their minds of where they should start.  
	"You do this with everyone who comes through your door?" Sebastian asked when 
he had a brief respite.
	"If I did," Jorri managed to get out, "I wouldn't be so quick to give you this 
welcome."  She finally finished for the moment, then leaned back, looking Sebastian's 
suit up and down.  "Can't say I approve of this," she remarked.  "It'll have to go."
	"Well, you'll-"  Sebastian stopped, mesmerized for the moment.  "I suppose you 
have a lot of practice getting in and out of that," he remarked as she tossed her own 
flight suit on his head.  
	"Imperial pilots, baby," she said.  "Now, if you don't mind," she crawled onto 
the bed, "your wingmate is standing by waiting for your move."

	Laudica Reshad waited two days for Anakin to return.  It was plenty of time to 
think, especially when you're alone and dare not leave the ship.  The more she thought, 
the more her anger gave way to embarrassment.  She knew for certain that she wasn't 
acting on her own impulses... okay, admittedly Anakin wasn't repulsive or anything.  He 
was a Jedi, he kept in shape, and he seemed to care a great deal about his students, 
all positives.  But she wouldn't have done what she did, felt what she felt, on her 
own.  The only answer had been that he was using the Force to try and manipulate her 
mind.  It did make sense at first glance.  After all, he had brought her half way 
across the galaxy, and he'd made sure it was just the two of them.  If he wanted to 
make some moves on her, he was in the ideal position.  But there were problems with 
that idea she hadn't thought of at first.  She knew that the Force influenced the weak 
mind, and pride wouldn't let her admit that about herself.  Also, her blossoming Jedi 
senses hadn't picked up anything from Anakin except confusion, nothing malicious or 
mischievous.  If he was playing with her mind, he was doing a good job of hiding his 
enjoyment of it.  But the most damning of all was simply that it wasn't in his 
character.  Anakin was patient and kind and self-sacrificing... it just didn't seem to 
fit in with the idea he'd go to this much trouble just to mess with her head.
	The ramp sealed, and Laudica straightened up, still not sure what she should do 
at this point.  Anakin stomped the snow from his boots and carried a storage box back 
to stow in the cargo area.  Laudica went to start the pre-flight, then remembered that 
he'd locked the helm to keep her from leaving him behind.  It was a smart thing to do 
because she'd been tempted at first.  He came up and unlocked the helm without a word, 
then flopped into the chair.  Laudica decided to be the first to speak as she started 
prepping for take off.  "You were gone quite a while," she said.
	"Gathering lightsaber crystals is not a matter of just grabbing shiny rocks," 
Anakin said with weariness in his voice.  
	"I suppose," she said as she finished the checklist and closed the ramp.  The 
ship slowly left Ilum and headed for space.  "About what happened-" she began.
	"I'm sorry for what happened to you," he said before she could continue.  "I 
should have expected that."
	She cocked one eyebrow.  "What do you mean?"
	"I should have expected your emotions to get the better of you."
	Now she gave him a glare.  "You stuck-up, vain little shit," she said.  "Get 
over yourself."
	Anakin looked at her with the same dazed confusion he had been, then 
straightened up.  "Poor phrasing," he said.  "I haven't had much sleep.  I didn't mean 
your emotions towards me, I meant your emotions in general.  Ilum is strong with the 
Force, and the Force is an influence on the mind."
	"On the weak mind, if I remember the teachings correctly," Laudica said 
accusingly.
	"On any mind, to one degree or another.  The weaker the mind, the stronger the 
influence.  Like, have you ever been on the fence about something, where a little nudge 
could push you one way or another?"
	"Sure, everyone has."
	"So even if your mind is strong, it only takes a little push from the Force to 
persuade you to take a direction.  It's like a little friendly persuasion.  So, in your 
case, you were influencing yourself."
	"What?"
	"Your mind was being influenced by its own emotions, feeding back upon 
themselves.  Think about it, your little nervousness grew into terror, because your 
feelings were being amplified.  When I tried offering you peace, that no doubt gave you 
some comfort, and it amplified to... you know... it wasn't that my animal magnetism was 
at work," he finished, and Laudica offered a laugh at it.  "And then, when you got 
angry, naturally you got really angry.  So, it was really just a matter of falling 
under your own influence."
	"Well, how come it didn't affect you?" Laudica asked.
	"Well, it does in a way.  The influence of the Force is what helps give a Jedi 
control.  But I've been a Jedi for so long I've learned to... tune out the noise, I 
guess you could say.  That's why I said it was a mistake... not because there's 
anything wrong with you, but because this is all simply too new for you to take in 
properly."
	"And what about you?" she asked.  "I do recall that you seemed to be ready to 
give as good as you got."
	Anakin cleared his throat.  "Probably just the intensity of your own mind 
lowering my guard a moment."
	"Uh-huh," she said while she activated the hyperspace controls, not bothering 
to hide her self-satisfied grin.  "I'm sure it was exactly that."

	Jorri finished brushing out her hair while Sebastian lounged on the bed.  He 
hadn't slept in an actual bed for months, and just the feel of it was filling his mind 
with warm fuzzy thoughts of sleep.  But he didn't want to yet, because she was still 
here.  Watching her just seemed to take the weight off his soul.
	When things die down, Sebastian thought, I am spoiling you, Jorri.  His life 
had made it very hard for the two of them to spend much time together, and it was the 
only time he ever used his influence for personal gain.  He and Jorri were given the 
finest suites in the finest hotels; his way of thanking her for being so patient with a 
husband that ran all over the galaxy.  Now she was being patient with a fugitive that 
she couldn't even be seen with in public... God, he really didn't deserve someone as 
good as her, who would put up with all the crap she did by becoming his wife.  And she 
never used it either; she refused any effort for him to help her career, said she 
wasn't going to have anyone saying she hadn't earned it.  She took all of the bad and 
never was tempted to get anything in return, except him, and that just made him love 
her all the more.
	Jorri put the brush down then picked up Sebastian's flight suit in the manner 
wives have done for millennia.  Then she picked up the mask and looked at it for a 
moment.  "I thought Leia- the Empress- had called off the search for you," Jorri said 
as she toyed with Sebastian's mask idly.
	"Yes, which is a relief," Sebastian said.  "But that only changes the Empire's 
policy, not people's thoughts.  In many minds, I murdered the Emperor and drove us into 
near chaos; being incognito will help prevent any attempted 'accidents.'"
	Jorri nodded just a little, then set the mask down carefully on a table.  "We 
couldn't have picked a worse time to bring a child into this galaxy," she mused 
quietly.
	"Hey," he said, coming over and taking her hand.  "Don't even think that."
	"The Vong are on the loose; even the Milky Way isn't safe any more."  Jorri 
squeezed his hand tight.  "More and more worlds are openly revolting, and the Empire 
has to let them, to avoid weakening their positions.  Sebastian, we could lose this 
war... and even if we win, what will happen?  Leia said she would lay down the power 
when this was over, but when does that happen?  When the Vong are stopped?  When the 
Empire is reclaimed?  When?"  She shook her head a little.  "I know she's your aunt, 
and it's not that I shouldn't trust her, but I have a feeling this galaxy is going to 
get a whole lot uglier before this is over."
	"That may be," Sebastian finally admitted.  "But if I'm going to take an 
interest in that, I want a personal stake.  You, the baby, you give me something to 
fight for; when all else is gone I have that left to cling to... and it's already 
gotten me through the worst of times."
	Jorri snuggled into him and they embraced.  "I suppose Rahasia and I could live 
with that," she said.
	"Ah, it's Rahasia this time," Sebastian said.  
	"I like it," she said with mixture of humor and defensiveness.
	"I had one in mind," Sebastian said.  "It refers to the morning, the dawn.  
It's a bit of hope."
	Jorri sat up and looked at him.  "I do like the sound of that," she admitted.  
"What is it?"
	"Morgan," he said.  He looked at her curiously.  "Is something wrong?"  She sat 
frozen, as if she were locked in a stasis field.  "Jorri?"  She snapped back from 
wherever she'd been.  "What is it?"
	Jorri opened and closed her mouth several times.  "You just... caught me off 
guard."
	"What is it?" he asked, now visibly concerned.
	"I-"  She got up.  "It's complicated," she said finally.  "And I have to run a 
patrol with Mayhew.  If you want we can discuss it then."
	"Jorri-" he began.
	"Sebastian, I don't want to start this and not have time to finish it," she 
said as she grabbed her flight suit.  "I promise, as soon as I get back, I'll 
explain."  
	Many a husband has been stuck in this infuriating position, but Sebastian had 
learned to cope with being in the dark over the years.  "Haven't seen you with one of 
those in a while," he finally said to change the subject..  He pointed to the complete 
environment flight suit she was sliding on.
	"Patrol duty around Wormhole Base isn't a very high risk job; that's why I took 
it.  We only get the old TIE Interceptors rather than the H-Wings."  She ran a quick 
diagnostic on her suit's equipment, then gave Sebastian a kiss.  "I'll be back in six 
hours," she said.  
	"Be careful," he said.
	"In this system?" she said with a laugh.  She sealed her helmet and left, 
leaving Sebastian to wonder what her odd behavior was about.  After a few minutes he 
surrendered as most husband do to the fact that he wasn't going to figure it out 
himself and so might as well leave it alone.  He crawled back onto the bed, enjoying 
the mild scent of his wife on her pillow before napping for a few hours.  He awoke, 
took in a standard shower, and put his outfit -complete with mask- back on and hunted 
down Gorren.  The Klingon and their Vorta companion seemed to be getting on as well as 
they could, given the growing sense of mutual antagonism.  Sebastian ignored it; Gorren 
was too professional to let it get in the way of his work, and Kilana's only concern 
was the Founder anyway.
	"Any problems?" Sebastian asked.
	"None," Gorren said.  "And Bashir seemed optimistic about the data for their 
work."
	Sebastian nodded.  "How was Han doing?" he asked.  
	"Well enough," Gorren said, "though I could tell he was hiding his grief.  I 
would have thought the knowledge that his son had fallen in battle would be a comfort 
to him, but I didn't broach the subject."
	"Good," Sebastian said.  "Very wise."
	"I am becoming used to dealing with alien ways," he said.  "Though I worry 
sometimes that your ways may leave an impression on me."
	Sebastian was about to respond when he froze.  There was a tremor in the Force, 
and he reached out towards the disturbance to try and pick it out.  The presence 
reached back towards them, and their minds met, sending a chill of terror through 
Sebastian's body.
	Greetings, Jedi, came the thought from the Sith.
	"Is something the matter?" Gorren asked, but Sebastian closed his eyes to 
concentrate.
	Who are you?
	Your doom, Jedi.  Sebastian could feel the satisfaction in the mind of the 
Sith.  Is that fear in you, Jedi?  He seemed to be chuckling to himself.  Good... you 
are wise to be afraid of me.
	So it's my turn to die, is that it?
	Astute, Jedi.
	Sebastian opened his eyes.  "We're leaving."
	Gorren nodded; he knew when to ask questions and when to operate on his trust.  
"Do we have time to get our gear?"
	"No, we'll have to leave it behind."  They began walking briskly through the 
halls of the station.
	"What's happening?" Kilana asked, but her question was drowned out by the Sith.
	Are you trying to run away, Jedi?
	Yes, Sebastian thought frankly.
	You wish me to hunt you down before I kill you, is that it?
	No, I just don't have the luxury of dying today.
	I killed your father, Jedi.  Don't you remember?
	The trio turned a corner.  Every single day, Sebastian thought back.
	Are you going to pass over the chance to make me pay for that?
	Yes.
	You are a coward, the Sith thought with hatred.
	The galaxies are falling apart, the Vong press further into Imperial space, and 
terrorism increases every day.  I don't have the luxury of indulging in a fight with 
you.
	You cannot hide forever, Jedi!
	Tell me that again in a hundred years, if you can find me.  Sebastian focused 
on the here and now.  "Our old friend is coming," he said out loud.  "We need to get 
out of the system in a hurry until we can plan our next move."
	Gorren seemed hesitant for a moment.  "Now would be the time to reclaim your 
lost honor, my friend."
	"This guy is good," Sebastian said.  "Even with your help, I doubt I'd win, and 
we have too much left to do."
	"What more is there than your honor?" Gorren asked in bewilderment.
	"My family," Sebastian said.
	This silenced Gorren.  "Sometimes our obligations stand in the way of what 
needs to be done," he finally said.
	"Yes, they-"  Sebastian shifted and twisted his head; a blaster bolt hit the 
wall right behind where his face had been a second before.  He pulled his blaster out; 
Gorren, who was always a soldier, already had both out and had fired at the attacker, 
putting him down.  Even as they did heads popped from out of cover everywhere, quickly 
followed by weapons.  "Get to cover!" Sebastian said as he grabbed Kilana and pushed 
her towards a doorway, ducking down and taking a shot at one nearby.  He dropped behind 
a crate of supplies, shot and ducked back.  As he lay hunched down a blaster bolt 
exploded through it and hit the wall next to him.  He flinched back as a second 
perforated the box, then rolled forward to avoid the next one, coming out of the roll 
and blasting a mercenary in the face.  He jumped to his feet and ducked down the next 
corridor.  "Gorren!" he shouted.  The Klingon gave him a quick glance.  "Give Kilana a 
weapon!"  Gorren gave him a disapproving look, but tossed her one of his blasters.  He 
shifted his other blaster to his right hand while his left pulled out his Klingon 
dagger.  
	Duwal cursed as he pulled himself back behind some cover for a moment.  This 
was exactly what he'd wanted to avoid, and still knew was going to happen.  The Klingon 
was of no use to them; they were supposed to wait and catch him first.  But these 
Syndicate mercenaries can sometimes be a little too independent, and probably thought 
the Jedi was the greater threat.  Of course, he was, but taking a potshot at him wasn't 
going to solve the problem; if it was the Empire wouldn't have a five hundred thousand 
credit bounty on his head.
	Then there was the Vorta.  Technically she was expendable, but Duwal knew Luin 
wanted her back; she was worth too much to just kill.  Except now she was armed with a 
blaster and was a threat, and the Klingon was there to protect her.  Best laid plans...  
He ducked back then promptly returned fire.  They had to move quicker; the Empire 
wasn't going to ignore a firefight for long.  He switched his blaster over to stun and 
took a shot at the girl, missing.  He ducked out again, lining up his shot-
	Kilana put a blaster bolt into his face.  Duwal's body collapsed on itself like 
a broken puppet.  She went back to work.  Gorran, however, apparently decided that it 
was time to up the ante.  He holstered his blaster and put his dagger on the ground 
where he was crouching.  He pulled out the disruptor... not a Klingon disruptor, but a 
little something he'd picked up from Black Sun a year ago.  Sebastian disapproved, but 
they were in a desperate situation.  He didn't want stormtroopers here for the same 
reason the Orion Syndicate didn't.  He steadied his shot, aimed at the intersection the 
Syndicate was using for cover, and fired.  It blew out a jagged chunk of metal, and 
left a similar shape in the mercenaries behind it, who fell to the floor in pieces.  He 
gave a grin and turned to the next, sending the mercenaries scrambling.  Another shot 
and there was a new doorway into a storage bay.  He put the disruptor away, feeling 
he'd made his point.  The Syndicate were going to be more cautious, and that would give 
them time to withdraw back to the Raven and get off the station before the Imperials 
found them.
	Duwal had already had an idea in place for dealing with the Jedi, although he 
had doubts about the entire operation.  When Luin had sent him the furry little beast 
with its nutrient harness, Duwal wondered if the Orion had lost his marbles.  Still, if 
it did what it was supposed to do, then it fit in rather well with Duwal's own plan.  
It was a pity he was dead, because he never had the chance to see what happened a few 
moments later.  As Sebastian came out from cover to take another shot, the Force left 
him.  It was only a moment, but that was all it took.  A Lethean, wearing the nutrient 
harness, stepped up behind him and put his hands on either side of his head.  Without 
the Force, he never saw the attack coming, and it left him with no means to defend 
himself against the vicious telepathic attack.  His jaw locked shut, his eyes screwed 
closed, and his mind was reeling under the mental onslaught.  He tried to cling to 
something, but his thoughts were a jumble, and his mind collapsed under the blow, 
leaving him powerless to offer any resistance.


CHAPTER XXIV

	The Sith fighter was a heavily-modified smuggling vessel.  Ben Skywalker had a 
similar one in his own universe, one he'd grown quite fond of.  This model lacked the 
cloaking device, but it did have more than enough weaponry and extreme maneuverability, 
which is what counted most for him.  Most of the military equipment either required a 
special flight suit, or was as maneuverable as a sloth on rollerskates.  Ben hated 
both, and took satisfaction in blowing many of each out of the sky over the years.
	As Ben approached Wormhole Station -known to some as Wormhole Base- he gave his 
forged ship codes and moved in to an assigned docking bay.  He fitted his mask into 
place as the ship settled into position, then headed down the ramp.  The docking 
attendants watched him with fear, but he didn't care.  Let them alert the 
stormtroopers; it wouldn't make a difference.  As he left, however, the one attendant 
stopped the other from hitting the alarm.  "What are you doing?" he demanded as she 
held his hand away from the button.  "There's a half a million credits on this guy's 
head!"
	"Yeah," she replied, "and guess who will collect it if you sound the alarm.  
I'll give you a hint, he has a blaster rifle and only knows killing and white 
uniforms."
	"So?" the attendant said.  "You have a better idea?"
	"Yes," she said with a grin.  "I do."

	Sebastian twitched where he stood, the Lethean's hands on both sides of his 
head, psychic energy passing between them into his mind.  It ended when Gorren whirled 
and jabbed a klingon dagger into the Lethean's ribs; it dropped to the floor without so 
much as a stagger.  A moment later, Sebastian collapsed as well.  Kilana was behind 
him, firing the blaster at the Syndicate members with instincts, but Vorta instincts 
for protection were quite good.  She picked a second off, then a third.  Gorren came to 
her side and joined in the fight, and that was when the remaining forces broke off and 
bolted.  They were killers, but not soldiers, and this wasn't what they'd signed on 
for.  With the Lethean dead and their numbers dwindling, they knew this was already a 
failure.  Gorren plucked the blaster from Kilana's hand before she could say anything 
and placed it in his holster.  "Syndicate ambush," he rumbled.  
	"How did they know we were here?" she asked.
	"Credits buy a great deal in the Empire," Gorren said, "and that means 
information."  He knelt down by Sebastian and felt for his pulse.  "We have to get him 
back to the ship.  There will be more of them."
	Kilana was shaking Sebastian.  "He's dead," she said bitterly.
	"No, but he won't be much use in a fight," Gorren said, hefting him to his 
feet.  "Lethean attacks shut down the brain.  Hopefully we stopped it before he came to 
much harm."
	Kilana seemed hesitant.  "I will stay here," she said.
	Gorren put Sebastian's arm over his shoulder, but the Jedi hung limp.  
"Nonsense; follow me."
	"It's me they want," Kilana said.  "If I stay they'll leave you two alone."
	Gorren grunted as he tried to turn with Sebastian's full body weight on his 
shoulders.  "They were after him.  A Lethean attack would incapacitate a Jedi, and they 
knew it.  Gint must have told the Syndicate who he was.  If you want to help, help me 
get him to safety!"
	Before anything more could be said there was the sound of stormtroopers.  
Gorren groaned, knowing this wasn't going to end well.  He was shocked when, after they 
had filled the hallway, they all turned away from him.  "There he is, blast him!" one 
said, and immediately blaster fire rang out.  Gorren called to Kilana and the two began 
heading down the hall in the opposite direction.  Gorren managed a good trot despite 
the situation, but Kilana was able to easily keep up while glancing back.  She was 
surprised to hear the sounds of screams coming from the stormtrooper ranks, until 
finally they parted, revealing a man in a cloak and mask swinging a lightsaber at the 
stormtroopers.  She paused.  "Is he a Jedi?" she asked.  "Could he help us?"
	Gorren turned, and for the first time ever Kilana saw a Klingon show fear.  
"No," he whispered.  He began running, half dragging Sebastian as he tried to put as 
much distance between them and the pursuing Sith.  They reached an intersection and 
Gorren activated the blast door, sealing them off.  "Take him," he said, passing 
Sebastian off to Kilana, who nearly fell under the weight.  Gorren pulled out his 
commlink.  "Solo, Bashir, this is Gorren."
	"Solo here, Gorren.  What's up?"
	"Our Sith adversary is here, and he's after us.  We need help."
	"Falcon's nearby," Han said.  "Docking Bay 1172; we'll give you a ride out of 
here."
	"My thanks," Gorren said putting the commlink away.  He grabbed Sebastian and 
began running with him again.  "Let us hope we can reach it in time," he said to his 
Vorta companion.
	"What's going on?" Kilana asked as she jogged to keep up.  "Who is that?"
	"Sith," Gorren replied, panting.  He quickly explained the situation, and 
Kilana's fear rose with each word.
	"He kills Jedi?" she said.  She had thought that nothing could do that, 
especially if Sebastian was still alive after the Lethean attack.
	"This one killed Sebastian's father," Gorren said.  "I saw a recording of him 
moving Earth's moon solely with his mind."  Gorren shook his head.  "Uninjured, I doubt 
even Sebastian could stand up to him.  Now, it would be quick slaughter."  There was a 
sound of metal striking metal, and they glanced back and saw the blast door closing.  
Gorren didn't waste time talking; he hefted Sebastian up and did his best to sprint, 
Kilana following suit.  They passed through the next door before it closed, but there 
was another after that.  Sweat poured down Gorren's face as he raced to beat it; Kilana 
had already passed through and was waiting for him on the other side.  With a cry of 
defiance he jumped and the two passed through the doors just before they closed.
	"There it is," Kilana said.  Gorren had no breath left, he just nodded and 
picked up Sebastian.  Cybernetic implants made Sebastian heavy, but Gorren carried him 
like he weighed no more than a kitten.  They turned into the docking bay and rushed to 
the ramp.  Bashir was waiting for him at the top.  "This way," he said, ushering them 
over to the bed he'd already prepared for Sebastian.  Gorren laid him down and Bashir 
worked on getting his mask off.  "Someone get me my medical kit," he said.
	Kilana found it and handed it to Bashir, who had just finished getting the mask 
off.  Sebastian's expression was a cross between being dead and being heavily doped.  
Bashir opened the kit and ran a medical tricorder over him.  "I've had experience with 
Lethean attacks," he said, mostly to himself.  "They can be fatal, but I don't think I 
see any permanent damage, at least physically."
	"Can you help him?" Gorren asked, getting straight to the point.
	"I don't think so, not yet.  This is a telepathic attack; we've got to just 
hope that he can fight it off."
	"Then I have every confidence," Gorren said with a nod.  Before any more could 
be said there was a sound of protest from the ship's engines and a great deal of 
Corellian swearing.
	"I'm glad someone does, "Bashir remarked as he went towards the cockpit, only 
to be nearly knocked over as Han came rushing out.  "Bad?" he asked.
	"I can handle it," Han barked as he grabbed his toolkit and raced towards the 
back of the Falcon.
	"What's going on?" Kilana asked Bashir.  "I thought you would help us escape."
	"Yes, well, the Millennium Falcon is a rather temperamental old ship."  There 
was a heavy clang and a collection of shouts and curses.  "As is her owner," he added.
	"But that person was after us!" Kilana said.
	"A Sith," Gorren said with a nod, heading over to a display and getting a look 
through the base's security cameras.  The Sith had been trapped between two blast 
doors, but it didn't look like he was going to let that stop him.  He was already 
trying to cut through with his lightsaber.
	"There's four blast doors between him and us," Bashir said as he watched the 
activity on the display.  He tapped his lips with a clinical detachment.  "Rate of 
cut... distance... Han, I'd say you've got about six minutes before we all face a 
rather violent death."
	"Thanks," Han shouted back, his tone managing to carry a great deal 
information, especially about the value of Bashir's opinion and the circumstances of 
his conception.
	"Is that going to be enough time?" Kilana asked.
	Gorren looked between Bashir and Kilana, then drew himself up.  "Yes, it is."  
He walked over to Sebastian and started going through the pouches of his suit.
	"What are you doing?" Kilana demanded.  She froze as she saw him pull out 
Sebastian's lightsaber.
	"Today is not a good day to die," Gorren said, holding the weapon up as he 
examined it.  He flipped the switch and the blades came on, then turned off.  "But it 
will have to do."
	"Gorren," Bashir said, "that is a dark Jedi out there.  You can't beat him."
	"Ah, but I don't have to," Gorren said.  "Just slow him down."
	"Wait," Bashir said, then rummaged through his medical kit for a moment.  "Wear 
this."
	"What is it?" Gorren asked with annoyance as Bashir attached it to his neck.
	"Blood oxygenator," Bashir said.  "I have a feeling you might need it."
	Gorren nodded to him, then put a parting hand on Sebastian's shoulder.  "See 
you in Sto-vo-kor, my friend," he said, then strode down the ramp and out of the 
docking bay.  He reached the nearest blast door.  Even as he arrived the tip of a 
lightsaber penetrated and began cutting; there wasn't going to be much time to prepare.  
Gorren got down on one knee and bowed, the lightsaber held to his brow.  "Kah'less," he 
thought with determination.  "I go to my death as a warrior.  I ask you, in my final 
hour, to give a bit of your strength for my strength, your skill for my skill, your 
courage for my courage.  Help me save my friend, great Kah'less.  I do not ask for a 
glorious death, but a death that will mean something."   He opened his eyes, took a 
deep breath through his nose, then rose to his feet.  He switched on the two blades and 
held it before himself like a bat'leth.  The blast door fell towards him with a blow 
that shook the floor; Gorren didn't so much as flinch.  
	The Sith came through, paused when he saw Gorren, and laughed with contempt at 
the Klingon.  He made a gesture and Gorren was thrown aside like a leaf in a windstorm, 
and the Sith went on his way.  Gorren pulled himself to his feet; it was a miracle that 
he hadn't been killed by his own lightsaber.  "Coward!" he cried after the Sith.  He 
paused at the insult.  "Running away to kill a helpless victim rather than face an 
armed enemy?  You are no warrior!"
	The Sith turned back to face him, his face unreadable behind the mask.  He 
gestured at Gorren, and the Klingon's windpipe sealed.  The blood oxygenator kicked in 
and despite the choking he still stood, although it took all his strength to do so.  He 
gave a contemptuous grin to the Sith, and finally he felt the pressure ease as the Sith 
turned his lightsaber back on.  "Come!" Gorren said between gasps.  "It is a good day 
to die!"
	"Maybe for you," the Sith said as he approached.  "I plan to live forever."  
Gorren waited until he was close, then swung.  The weight of the lightsaber was all 
wrong, and he overextended, allowing the Sith to step out of the way with ease and 
stick his lightsaber into Gorren's side.  Gorren let out a cry of pain and rage and 
swung back, getting another stab for his troubles.  "Klingons," he said with contempt 
as Gorren stumbled in agony.  "So much talk, but you all fight like a lazy hutt.  It's 
really quite pathetic."
	"Hide behind your words, Sith!" Gorren snarled back.  "Let them keep you warm 
on cold nights when you realize tricks are all you have!  Take them away and you have 
all the skill of a Ferengi!"  He screamed as the Sith shoved the tip of his saber into 
his left arm near the shoulder, then slowly drew it down towards the elbow.  He stepped 
back as Gorren swung blindly, then stabbed the Klingon in the abdomen and out through 
his back.  Behind his mask he smiled as the Klingon coughed weakly, then jerked as he 
pulled the blade free.
	"The words of dead men mean little to me, Klingon," the Sith said.  He turned 
and began walking away, but he heard the wheezing and turned back.  Gorren was 
stumbling after him, still holding the lightsaber.  "You are determined, if not bright.  
Probably too stupid to die."
	"Only... one way... to find out," the Klingon gasped.  He made some bat'leth 
like swings just for show, then charged as best he could.
	"Nice trick," the Sith said with irony in his voice.  Gorren swung, and the 
Sith easily evaded, bringing his lightsaber around to chop off his right hand.  Instead 
of pulling back the severed limb, however, Gorren continued his forward momentum and 
struck the Sith across the face with the stump, knocking his mask free.  The Sith 
turned back from the blow, and looked at Gorren with fire in his eyes.
	"Thump," Gorren said through teeth clenched in agony.  "It's the... only trick 
I know."
	"Oh really," the Sith said with hate.  "Lie down."  Gorren was tossed backwards 
several meters and landed on his back with a hard thud.  "Roll over."  His body twisted 
until he was face down on the floor, bones cracking in protest.  Ben kicked the 
lightsaber away from the Klingon's feeble grasp.  He spun his own blade and held it 
point down.  "Play dead," he stabbed Gorren through the back up to the handle.  He 
deactivated the weapon, then kicked the body over.  There was no sign of life in the 
Klingon's eyes.
	Ben hung his lightsaber on his belt, then turned and looked at the one that had 
fallen from the Klingon's grip.  It was Sebastian Skywalker's; he'd seen enough footage 
of his counterpart to know that.  He reached out and it flew through the air into his 
waiting grip.  The moment his hand closed around it, it was just like the Lethean 
attack had been for Sebastian.  Hate, fear, pain, rage, the sources of Sith strength, 
turned on him in that moment.  He tried to release the lightsaber, but his fingers 
seemed fused to it.  Ben stumbled and hit the wall, leaning against it for support as 
his mind was bombarded.  Then he heard the voice, and even in the midst of the 
emotional storm it pierced through to his mind.  "Mara Jade's lightsaber," Ben Sisko 
said.  "You should have known better than that."
	"Make it stop!" Ben cried, or tried.  He couldn't get his muscles to respond 
properly; instead it was just a desperate mental thought, although that didn't seem to 
matter to Sisko.
	"This is the path of strength; don't you remember?  The self-destruction of the 
dark side is a lie.  You should know, you've said it many times to your students or to 
the Jedi you've slaughtered."  There was no sarcasm in Sisko's tone, which made it all 
the worse.  "You haven't given up on your beliefs, have you?"  Ben slid down the wall 
until he was kneeling on the floor; still he couldn't drop the damn lightsaber!  "The 
dark side has no loyalty, Ben.  It consumes, and it doesn't care who or why."
	Sith lightsaber crystals are often constructed through personal meditation.  
When complete, there remained a bit of the Sith's power within.  It was subtle; despite 
proximity Luke and Sebastian hadn't noticed over the years they lived near it.  But Ben 
Skywalker had a personal connection to this weapon's creator, one filled with pain and 
fear.  Sisko was probably amplifying the effects, but for him it was like jabbing a 
pick into an exposed power socket.  It took all his strength, but he was able to 
release the lightsaber; he collapsed on the floor in exhaustion.
	After a few seconds he tried picking himself up, but he heard the voices again, 
like on Chandrilla.  In the weakness of his exhaustion, their accusations filled him 
with fear, as if he were on the cusp of cosmic judgment.  He put his hands over his 
ears for all the good it would do, his eyes screwed shut.  "Tell me," Sisko said, not 
unkindly, "what in your Sith training ever prepared you for this moment?"
	And then, like waking from a nightmare, it was gone, and Ben realized someone 
had just put binders on his hands.  He looked up and saw he was surrounded by 
stormtroopers.  His eyes narrowed, and they were tossed backwards like a bomb had gone 
off.  With a thought the binders dropped from his wrists and he grabbed his lightsaber 
and swung, his embarrassment at this humiliation turned into a white hot rage he 
channeled into a fury of destruction.  The stormtroopers weren't just killed, they were 
massacred.  As the last one fell he looked and saw the Falcon through the window as it 
exited the docking bay, and a scowl crossed his face.  
	On the floor, near his feet, the corpse of Gorren seemed to be smiling.


CHAPTER XXV

	The Millennium Falcon slipped out of the docking bay into space.  As they 
turned, Bashir saw the Sith through the window, staring at them as they flew past.  
"It's an amazing similarity," he remarked in passing.  "If I didn't know he was lying 
down in the back I'd swear that was Sebastian."
	"Let's not let him get any closer," Han said as he kicked the engines up.  
"Take the controls while I get the coordinates from the nav computer."
	"Where are we going?"
	"Earth."
	"Why there?" Bashir asked.
	"Because it's the first thing I thought of," Han replied.
	Lying down on a bunk, Sebastian tried getting his thoughts together, but it was 
like trying to grab a speck floating in the water; it kept sliding out of his grip.  As 
the ship passed the window, however, the Sith's thoughts pierced his shattered mind.
	You cannot escape me, Jedi.

	Ben Skywalker, Sith Lord, stood amongst the mound of dead stormtroopers, 
oblivious to their presence as he watched his enemy attempt a retreat.  He deactivated 
his lightsaber and pulled out a site-to-site transporter.  A moment later he was 
standing inside his ship.  He took his seat in the pilot's chair, went through 
preflight within seconds, and started lifting off.  He gestured, and the doors for the 
docking bay opened; he would have preferred to blast his way out, but that was 
outweighed by the risk to his ship.  Sith were reckless, but not stupid.  When the 
doors opened he pushed it to full throttle and roared out of the docking bay, twisting 
as he did to follow the escaping Falcon.

	Bashir was visibly sweating.  "I'm afraid I'm not exactly experienced in this 
kind of flying," he said as he tried to make a move to evade the Sith Fighter and 
instead sent them into a crazy spiral.  "You'd better hurry."  An alarm sounded, but 
Bashir didn't dare take his eyes away long enough to see what it meant.  "I hope that's 
not bad news," he said in the tone of a man who knows alarms rarely ring to report good 
news.
	"Damn!  Wormhole Station's set up an interdictor field!"  Han hit some buttons.  
"It's nearly 2 AU across; so much for a quick escape."
	"Why would they- ah, the fighter."
	"Leia wants him bad; can't say I don't feel the same, but I'd rather not be 
caught here with him."  The ship rocked under a laser blast.  "I'll take over, go check 
on your patient."
	Bashir pulled himself out of the chair and worked his way back to where 
Sebastian lay.  The Vorta -Kilana- was watching over him like a mother lion, ready to 
protect him against anything or anyone.  Bashir pulled out his medical tricorder again.  
"He seems to be doing somewhat better," he said with relief.  "Pass me my medkit 
there."  He took it and prepared a hypospray, then held it to Sebastian's neck.  
"Hopefully this'll help speed up his recovery, now that he's started to fight it off."  
The ship shook violently under another impact.
	"What's happening?" Kilana demanded.  "Why haven't we gone to lightspeed?"
	"Interdictor field," Bashir said, examining the readings again after the 
injections.  "Large gravitation impression on space, leaves ships unable to enter 
hyperspace."
	"I thought they were obsolete?"
	"The Empire developed a new form that was immune to anti-interdictor torpedoes, 
for the moment anyway."  The ship shook again.  "Lucky for us," he said dryly.  "Keep 
an eye on him, let me know if he's having some kind of reaction."  Bashir got back to 
his feet and stumbled under another impact on his way back to the cockpit.  
	Bashir returned to his seat.  He was amazed at how fast Han's hands were flying 
over the controls while he spoke on the comm system.  "Mayday mayday, civilian 
freighter Millennium Falcon under attack, requesting assistance."
	"Stand by, Millennium Falcon," said a voice with the calm detachment of one who 
wasn't being shot at.  "We are attempting to lock onto the hostile with a tractor 
beam."
	"You're not going to get this guy with a tractor beam," Han said sharply.  
Another blast rocked the Falcon.  "Damnit, get us some support ships or lower the 
interdictor field!  We're sitting ducks out here!"
	"Shields are holding," Bashir reported.  "But I'm not sure they will for much 
longer."
	"Come on old girl," Han said, "don't let me down."  He started putting the 
Falcon through an even more intense set of maneuvers that threatened to roll Bashir's 
eyes back into his head, but it didn't seem to make any difference.  There was laser 
fire everywhere.  "You ever operate a quad laser cannon?" Han asked in a rush.
	"No, but I learn quickly."
	"Good, crash course, down the ladder.  That should at least give him something 
else to think about."  Bashir nodded as he headed back through the cockpit door.  His 
equilibrium took a jolt as gravity changed direction on his way down, then he settled 
into position.  He looked the controls over; it was all fairly straightforward.
	"Try to spook him off our tail," Han said over the comm.  
	"Aye aye," Bashir said, bringing the gun around to point back towards the 
pursuing Sith Fighter.  He fired a few shots, but it evaded easily.  A few more, and it 
rose up out of sight.  "He's out of firing range," Bashir reported.
	"Stay there, he may slip up."
	"Civilian freighter," came the sound of the officer at Wormhole Station, "we 
are having trouble locking on with our tractor beam."
	"Thank you, Lieutenant Obvious," Han shouted back.  "Now can you give us some 
help out here?!"
	"Stand by, we'll be sending you some support."
	"'Stand by,'" Han growled.  "We head for the edge of the field, and it'll take 
longer for the backup to arrive.  We head back to the base, and we're stuck here."
	"He can't hold off against all those fighters," Bashir pointed out.
	"Yeah, but he just needs enough time to catch us," Han said.  "And that's what 
he wants, another dead Jedi.  Well, he took away my boy, and he sure as hell isn't 
getting Sebastian.  We'll head for the edge and hope for the best."
	"Doctor," Kilana said peeking her head down the shaft.  "I think he's having a 
reaction."
	"Han?" Bashir asked.
	"Go, you're not doing much good down there... no offense."
	Bashir climbed back up to the deck and rushed over to Sebastian, his tricorder 
already out.  "It's not a reaction," he said as he closed it up.  "He's starting to 
shrug it off.  The treatment is working faster than expected.  His nanoprobes seem to 
be accelerating his recovery."
	"Good," Kilana said, resuming her protective position.  Bashir got to his feet 
and returned to the cockpit.  As he passed through he had to resist the urge not to 
grab the wall as space spun beyond him.  Han was pulling out all the stops it seemed, 
and considering they hadn't felt an impact for a couple minutes, it seemed to be making 
a difference.
	"How much further?" Bashir asked.
	"A while," Han replied, not letting his attention wane.  
	"Civilian freighter," the officer said again, "we have ships inbound.  They 
will assist you.  When you are clear proceed beyond the field and engage your 
hyperdrive."
	"Thanks," Han said.  "Brilliant strategist, that man," he remarked to Bashir.
	"Tractor beam control reports inability to lock on," someone else reported in. 
	"Launch all fighters," the officer said.  "Launch all fighters."
	"Finally," Han remarked.
	"Wormhole Base," came a new voice on the comm, "this is patrol 127, we are 
preparing to intercept."
	"Patrol 127, you are cleared to engage and destroy," came the response from the 
base.  Han banked as two TIE Interceptors roared past, firing their laser cannons at 
the Sith fighter.  It made only the smallest of moves to evade, firing again at the 
Falcon as it continued to run for the edge of the field.
	Sebastian sat up a little as the sound of the battle came over the comm.  
Something was itching his broken mind.  "Loosen up, but don't break off, this guy looks 
too good to take down alone."
	"Copy, sir," came the response.  The TIEs passed near the Falcon again, and 
Sebastian felt it, and it locked the last mental piece into place.  His eyes went wide, 
and Kilana flinched as he bolted from the bed.
	Jorri!

	A look of brief confusion passed over Ben Skywalker's face, soon followed by a 
smile of self-satisfaction.  With a quick move his ship twisted off its pursuit course 
of the Millennium Falcon.  He fired weapons, and the TIEs scrambled to avoid him.

	"Wormhole Base," Jorri said, "be advised the bogey has broken off its attack on 
the civilian freighter and is actively pursuing our patrol."  The TIEs twisted to evade 
his weapons, but he stayed on them.  "Requesting reinforcements, Wormhole Base."
	Sebastian lurched into the cockpit, hitting the wall hard and causing Han and 
Bashir to whirl around and look at him.  "The Sith is bugging off," Han told him, 
turning back.  "It's the Empire's problem now."
	It took all his concentration to get his mouth to move right, and even then he 
sounded like a buffoon, but the words came out.  "He's after Jorri."
	Han turned to Sebastain again, then looked at his instruments, and that at 
space through the window.  "Aw kriff," he muttered as he yanked the Falcon around and 
headed back for the fray.
	"Give me some room," Jorri ordered her wingman as she took a wild spin to give 
her a moment to put the ship at full throttle.  The Sith fighter turned to follow.  
"I'll keep him busy, you finish him off."  Her wingman acknowledged and Jorri dipped 
and veered right, then left, then back, taking quick banks and unexpected turns.  The 
Sith Fighter's weapons continued to fire, but she was managing to stay ahead of him for 
the moment, never quite giving him a chance to lock on for the kill.  "Mayhew?" she 
asked.
	"I can't get a lock on him, sir," he said.  "He's just too quick."
	"Hurry it up, I can't do this all day."  She had her speed at maximum and was 
going through all the parts of her evasive maneuvers playbook, and even with the Sith 
Fighter evading her wingman's fire, he was still always on her tail.  It was starting 
to make her a little nervous.  
	Sebastian fumbled for a headset and put it on.  "Jorri," he said.
	"Bastian?" she replied in surprise, almost getting blown to pieces for the 
brief lapse in judgment.
	"You've got to get out of here, now!" he said.  "Don't argue, just go!"
	The edge in Sebastian's voice spoke of more than just worry; he was terrified 
of what was about to happen.  She had to trust his instincts.  "ETA on the fighters?" 
she asked Wormhole Base.
	"Ninety seconds," came the response over the comm.  Jorri saw the Falcon coming 
in and she banked off to the right, the freighter already firing towards the Sith 
Fighter head on.  It dodged, twisted, and came right back on her flight path.
	"Determined, isn't he," she mused, but there was a nervous edge to her voice.  
She turned the inertial damper to max and put the ship into insane turns and random 
jumps, yet still he stuck like glue behind her.  Even as the Falcon joined her wingman 
in trying to blow him away he flew as if they weren't even there.  Every time she 
seemed to straighten out there was approaching laser fire all around her, so she was 
constantly corkscrewing and weaving to avoid his shots, but it was simply impossible to 
do it and keep her bearings.  She could be leading them away from the rest of the ships 
for all she knew.  She took a brief second to glance at her position; it was all Ben 
Skywalker needed.  To her credit, it was a grazing shot, just alongside the strut to 
starboard of her pod.  The ship now spun even beyond her control, alarms filling her 
cabin.  She heard Sebastian call her name, but she tuned it out.
	"Sir, what's your status?" Mayhew asked.  "Can you pull it out?"
	"It's no good!" Jorrielle shouted as she tried to keep the ship under control.  
"I've lost stick, engine's going critical."  She grit her teeth, making the decision.  
"I'm ejecting," she announced as she pulled the handle.  The top of her TIE burst off 
and she was shot out into space, narrowly missing the passing panel as she floated 
away.  The explosion pushed her even faster, and she had to use the small jets in her 
seat to stop the end-over-end flipping that was tying her stomach in knots.
	"Recovery's on the way, sir," Mayhews said as reassuringly as he could, but 
Jorrielle knew the truth.  She was a beautiful target, unmaneuverable and unarmored.  
	"She won't have that much time," Sebastian told Han.  "We've got to pick her up 
now!"
	"Hang on," Han said without another word as the Falcon twisted around, engines 
flaring as he poured on the speed.  Jorri looked towards the distant shape of the 
Falcon, and the much closer shape of the fighter.
	Ben Skywalker took a chance to savor the moment.  She was vulnerable now, and 
through her, him.  Know pain, he thought towards Sebastian through the Force.  Feel her 
die.
	Please, Sebastian thought back.  Your fight is with me, not her!  
	You broke the rules, Ben thought back.  You ran away and hid behind the weak.  
If I have to kill them to get to you, that's the price you pay for your cowardice.
	I'll fight you, Sebastian thought frantically.  Whatever you want, just don't 
do this!
	It's too late for that, Ben thought with scorn.  I'll find you eventually, but 
for now, let this serve as a reminder if you decide to let cowardice govern your 
actions next time.
	Please, Sebastian begged, don't take her away.
	Ben laughed.  Such a pathetic excuse for a Jedi.
	Adrenaline focused Sebastian's mind like a razor.  "Jorri, hang on!" he said 
into the comm.
	"Sebastian," she said, closing her eyes as she heard the despair in his voice.  
"I'm so sorry."  The fighter was getting closer now; she was an easy target, and there 
was nothing she could do about it.  
	"Han-" Sebastian said in a drawn out tone.
	"I'm working it, kid," the old smuggler said, trying to get them into position.  
"Jorri, just hold on a little longer.
	Jorrielle tried to blink away the tears.  "It's too late," she said as the ship 
closed to within range, evading her wingman's best efforts to intercept it.  She 
should've been terrified, but all she could think about was the baby.  It wasn't fair 
for her to die now, not without knowing any of the wonders life had to offer her.  She 
cursed herself for her arrogance and putting her unborn daughter in danger, and now 
into certain death.  She would've dived into a sarlaac's maw and faced its living death 
rather than this fate.  But it was too late to change things now, too late to make the 
right choice.  She watched helplessly as the weapons prepared to flare.  She couldn't 
bring herself to say goodbye.  "I love you, Bastian."
	He felt the comforting presence slip from his mental grasp, and Sebastian fell 
to the floor.  He didn't cry out, he just said her name over and over, as if trying to 
quietly awaken her from a deep sleep.  His wife and his unborn child... the knowledge 
was like an overwhelming weight around his neck and heart.  The sorrow seemed to seep 
through his pores into the core of his being, engulfing him in a dread that dwarfed 
even the loss of his own father.  And above it all, the prophet's words came back to 
him.
	"They're going to take it all away from you."



CHAPTER XXVI

	It's an old story, but it still gets told amongst the troops.  On Earth, 
centuries ago, they would train members of their security or military to deal with 
bombs and other explosives.  The new initiate would be given a specially armored suit 
to wear, then sent off to do a training exercise.  As he walked, his trainer would talk 
to him over the communicator; radio at the time.  "From this distance, if the bomb went 
off it would knock you over."  The trainee would nod and continue.  As he got closer: 
"From this distance, if the bomb went off it would require a trip to the hospital."  
The trainee continued; the trainer then said.  "From this distance, if the bomb went 
off, you'd probably lose an arm or a leg."  Often the trainee would pause for a moment 
at the revelation, then continue walking.  As he neared his target, the trainer said: 
"From this distance, if the bomb went off, you'd be dead."
	Now the trainee stopped in his tracks.  In a voice mixing frustration and 
confusion he asked, "If that's the case, why am I wearing the suit?  It's not going to 
protect me from the blast."
	"You don't understand," the trainer would say, usually with a small chuckle.  
"The suit isn't there to protect you.  It's so that if the bomb goes off it'll keep all 
your pieces in one place to find."
	Jorri had told him that story, and he'd shared a good laugh with her.  As he 
stood on the dock of wormhole station as they brought her body in, the remains held 
together by her flight suit, he wasn't laughing.  In less than half an hour he had lost 
his center; without his wife and child, he had no reason to carry on.  They removed her 
helmet, and he looked into her horrified expression, and he wept right there.  He 
didn't care what they thought; his companion, lover, friend, the term "soulmate" didn't 
begin to do her justice.  He would have given anything to be lying there in her place.  
Han put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.  "It'll be okay, kid," he tried to say as 
comfortingly as possible, but Sebastian knew it wasn't.  
	There were officials from around the station, and stormtroopers as well.  No 
one bothered Sebastian, even though he wasn't disguised.  Besides the Empress' order, 
they had more than enough evidence to see that Sebastian and the Sith couldn't have 
been the same person.  It would have been a relief to know as little as an hour ago; 
now it was pointless.
	"You'd better get some rest," Bashir told him.  "You're still recovering from a 
telepathic attack."
	Sebastian wanted to argue, but there was no point.  His strength was gone, and 
he had nothing to cling to to replenish it.  He was alone, and that wasn't going to 
change.  They escorted him back to Jorri's quarters, and he dropped onto the pillow and 
cried himself to sleep.

	The Sith Fighter settled into the docking facility on the Oracle's planet.  Ben 
Skywalker noted with disapproval the presence of Cardassians about; there had been more 
in ships around the world.  The Oracle was up to something, and she hadn't told him, at 
least nothing beyond the vague "security issue" remark.  It would have angered him if 
he weren't already upset at recent events.  He'd ultimately failed his mission, of 
course, but he did extract some satisfaction in the blow he had delivered.  In 
retrospect, he should have taken Sebastian up on his offer for a fight and spared the 
girl... but for some reason that didn't seem right to him.  As he flew back, with time 
to reflect on the matter, he suspected it was a desire for revenge at his humiliation.  
After all, if Sebastian hadn't fled, then the fiasco with his lightsaber would never 
have happened.  He'd think twice about trying to run again.
	Still, he'd let his anger get the better of him, to the detriment of his goals.  
Killing Sebastian was necessary, the girl wasn't.  Sisko's words were so fresh in his 
mind, the taunting of the weakness of his choices.  He wanted his anger to rule, wanted 
to demonstrate that it was he who controlled the dark side.  In the end, it was a 
rather unimpressive display; the girl was good, but it was like stepping on an ant for 
a Sith.  He should have known better.
	Ben cast a glowering expression at everyone unfortunate enough to cross his 
path, but all were smart enough to give him a wide berth when they saw him.  He passed 
the Oracle on his way towards his quarters; she was speaking with a Cardassian, but 
brushed him aside when she saw Ben.  "My lord," she said in greeting.  "I take it all 
went well."  Ben growled at her, but said nothing, and continued walking.  "If I may, 
lord," she called, and he stopped, then turned around with impatience.  "Leia Organa 
Solo will be coming.  While you were at Wormhole Base, the docking attendants placed a 
homing beacon on your fighter."
	Ben's already dark expression moved towards darker.  "Why didn't you tell me 
this?" he asked.
	"You wanted to confront the Empress," the Oracle answered.  "This is why you 
went to Wormhole Base, to draw her in.  She'll think she'll catch you by surprise, but 
you can be ready for her.  She will be no match for you."  She smiled just a little.  
"There is even the chance you might turn her to the Dark side."
	"Unlikely," Ben said.  "The light is too strong in her."
	"Respectfully, my lord, I think you underestimate how far she has already gone.  
And her anger towards you will be great.  After all, you've killed her brother, her 
son, and now her nephew-"
	"He's not dead," Ben snapped, and in a moment wondered why he'd reacted like 
that.  His failure must have gotten to him more than he'd thought.
	The Oracle, for her part, wore an expression of slight bewilderment.  "What do 
you mean, my lord?" she said with a shaky laugh.  "You killed Sebastian Skywalker, did 
you not?"  Ben said nothing, but it was a very talkative silence.  "I saw it," she 
said.  "You killed him, the Klingon, Bashir, and Solo.  You spared the Vorta because 
she amused you.  Isn't that what happened?"
	"No," he said, his tone and expression made it clear that he wouldn't tolerate 
further discussion on the subject, but the Oracle didn't seem to notice.
	"That's impossible," she said, mostly to herself.  She rushed into her lab; Ben 
decided to follow.  She was operating her equipment, and an image appeared on the 
screen... an impossible image.  It was his confrontation with the Klingon, but... there 
was no way a camera could have recorded it from this angle!  He was about to ask about 
it when his humiliation played out on the screen.  He was tempted to shut it down with 
a lightsaber, but the Oracle's reaction gave him pause.  "Sisko," she said under her 
breath.  "I should have known.  Even dead, you want to try and interfere."  She watched 
all the events that transpired, through the Falcon's escape, Ben's pursuit, and the 
inevitable death of Jorrielle Skywalker.  "It's of no importance," she finally said to 
Ben.  "So Sisko managed to postpone the death of one Jedi... it won't make a 
difference.  The Empress is the real danger, and she will come regardless.  If she 
brings Sebastian along, it won't matter; even together they are no match for you, my 
lord."
	"Of course," Ben said with disgust, as if the very idea he could fail was 
laughably obtuse.  He returned to his quarters to prepare himself for the conflict the 
Oracle warned him was soon coming.  That would no doubt explain why she was increasing 
security, but her failure to foresee Sisko's manipulations was a bit unnerving.  Ben 
wouldn't dare have admitted it, but he'd grown accustomed to her prophecies, and their 
inevitable outcomes.  If Sisko could get around one of them, did that mean that they 
were no longer trustworthy?  He dismissed it; Sisko had been lucky, that was all.  The 
lightsaber, his connection to the woman who made it-  Just the memory of her sent a 
stab of fear through his heart, which only fueled his Dark side rage.  "Play your 
games, Sisko," he said aloud, hoping the dead man might be listening.  "They won't do 
you any good."

	Sebastian was sitting in silence in the room with the two coffins.  Both had 
been prepared and then put in stasis for their journeys to Qo'nos and Tatooine for the 
funerals.  Sebastian would attend neither.  This was where he said goodbye to both of 
them, and to the life he'd led.  Kilana came in, showing quiet respect.  She put a hand 
on his shoulder in sympathy; he didn't shrug it away, but it didn't seem to make much 
of a difference.  She held out his lightsaber.  "They found this near the body," she 
said quietly.  "I assumed you'd want it back."
	Sebastian took it with a nod of thanks.  He held it a moment, then got up from 
his stool and opened Gorren's coffin.  "Sto-vo-kor is a rough place, my friend," he 
said as he placed it in the Klingon's hand.  "This will do you more good than I."  
Normally Klingons regarded the bodies of the dead as empty shells, refuse.  Sebastian 
couldn't allow that.  He had quite a bit of money saved up from the various assignments 
he'd taken, and had purchased a plot and commissioned a small mausoleum for Gorren; it 
was the least he could do for his friend, who'd selflessly given his life to save his 
own.  
	For Jorri... she deserved a monument a hundred meters tall, but that wasn't 
going to happen.  He'd send whatever money he had left to her parents; she'd been 
sending some home every month to help make ends meet, so they'd need it more than a 
lump of rock in the desert.
	"I could not have asked for two more faithful companions," he said quietly.  
	Kilana wasn't sure what to say as Sebastian closed the coffin and reactivated 
the stasis field.  "I don't understand," she finally admitted.
	Sebastian ignored the remark.  "Han will take you to Chandrilla," he said, not 
looking at her.  "Volgo Terraine will be waiting, and then you can decide what it is 
you want to do."
	Kilana hesitated.  "I want to go with you," she said.
	"No," Sebastian said, but it had a lifeless tone.
	"You said I should choose what to do," Kilana said.  "I choose to help you."
	Sebastian turned and looked at her; he looked washed out, as if he was nearly 
as dead as his wife and friend.  "Why?"
	Kilana opened and closed her mouth a few times.  "The Syndicate... if you 
hadn't saved me from them, then none of this would have happened."
	Sebastian was quiet, then a hint of a smile appeared.  "That's right," he said 
quietly.  "I guess it wasn't wise."  He rubbed her hand.  "But it was right.  That's 
what matters."
	"I will help in any way I can," she said emphatically.
	"Good," he said, "then go with Han."
	"I want to go with you," she said in frustration.  "You cannot do this alone."
	"Do what?"
	Kilana stopped, her mental train derailed.  "You are going to find the one who 
did this, aren't you?"
	"Why?"
	Kilana was flabbergasted.  "To bring him to justice, make him pay for what he 
did."
	"Will that bring them back to me?" he asked.  She was quiet; he turned his back 
to her.  "Then what's the point?"
	Kilana floundered.  "I thought... I thought that was what you did.  You have 
some kind of responsibility."
	"Had," Sebastian said.  "I had a home, I had a wife, I had a daughter, I had 
something to fight for."  He turned away and ran his hand over Jorrielle Sunspring 
Skywalker's coffin.  "And now it's gone.  They have taken everything from me, all that 
I've ever loved.  It's all gone.  And here I stand in the depths of woe, and even now 
the brief escape from reality is stolen from me, forbidden to entertain my desires."  
He laid his forehead on his hand, leaning against the coffin, his voice barely above a 
whisper.  "I don't even want revenge; I just want to indulge in my emotions, just this 
once, just to allow myself to feel something besides the emptiness.  But that's 
forbidden because of my burden, because of what I am.  I am a Jedi.  Hatred is a luxury 
I am denied."
	Kilana didn't know what to do, so she tried her best to comfort him.  Physical 
contact... something she'd learned to use in the employ of the Syndicate, but never for 
something like this.  "Wherever you go," she said, "I will help you."
	"Thank you," Sebastian said, still not moving.  "But you can't.  Where I'm 
going you can't follow."
	"Why?" she asked, unable to keep the frustration from her voice.  "Because I'm 
not a Jedi?"
	"No," Sebastian said.  "Not because you're not a Jedi..."

	Annika Hansen Skywalker opened her eyes; at least, what her mind was telling 
her were her eyes.  She was lying in her bed, but beyond it, there was nothing.  A 
single light came from nowhere, illuminating a circle around her, but revealing 
nothing.  She pulled herself up into a sitting position, free of weariness and pain.  
There was nothing beyond the circle of light.  "Hello?" she cried, but no response, not 
even an echo, as if the darkness devoured her words.  "Doctor?" she called.  "Doctor!"
	"He can't hear you," an old, familiar voice said.  
	"Jean-luc?" Annika replied.  She paused, the familiarity of the situation 
coming back.  "Is it time?  Am I going to die now?"
	"No," Picard answered.
	"Good," Annika said.  "I need just a little more time, Jean-luc.  Just a little 
more time 'til the dawn..."
	"Annika, I'm sorry," Picard said, "but there isn't going to be enough time left 
in the world now."
	Panic seized her heart, although she didn't know why.  "What do you mean?" she 
asked.  "What's going to happen?"
	"It's too late, Annika," Picard answered.  "There's nothing you could have 
done."
	"Jean-luc," she said, her voice quivering with a barely contained fury, "tell 
me-"  She was cut off by a baby's cry coming out of the darkness.  "Hello?" she tried 
again.  She followed the sound of the crying out into the darkness.  "Hello?!"  No one 
answered.  "Is someone out there?" she cried almost in desperation.
	"Be strong, or they'll take it all away."
	"Hello?"  Annika continued into the darkness.
	"Be strong, or they'll take it all away."
	"Bastian?" she asked.  She tried to follow the direction of the words, unable 
to orient based on anything but the sound of the crying.  
	Annika drew to a quick halt, her lungs frozen in shock as she saw Jorri 
standing before her.  She was cradling a baby in her arms; it had finally stopped and 
lay in silence.  Jorri looked up from the baby to Annika, and it was a face filled with 
shame and regret.  "You were right," she said, and then she and the baby slowly faded 
into the darkness, oblivious to Annika's cries.  Still, she saw a glow beyond.
	"Be strong, or they'll take it all away."
	Annika slowed as she saw another circle of light; the only sound now was her 
own breathing.  She approached slowly, uncertain, her grief growing with every step.  
	There was a coffin on a table.  It was wooden, with a solid black finish and a 
shine that was far too bright for so grim an object.  It was draped by a red flag, the 
Imperial symbol emblazoned upon it.  Before the casket sat Sebastian.  He leaned 
wearily towards it, as if the weight of this tragedy was too much for his shoulders to 
bear.  He was staring at it... no, not staring.  It went far beyond that, as if there 
were nothing else in the universe but himself and the somber sight before him.  Annika 
could only see his profile, but it betrayed no emotion.  "Bastian?" she said.  
"Bastian?"  He didn't answer.  Uncertain, she came closer.  "Bastian," she said, unable 
to hide her grief any more, "I'm so sorry."  Slowly, he turned to look towards her, and 
despite herself, she screamed.
	Sebastian's left eye was gone, replaced by a Borg ocular device.
	Annika took a frightened step back into a wall.  No, she realized as she looked 
about her in fear, not a wall, an alcove.  She saw drones moving about the Borg ship in 
their mechanized fashion; they ignored her presence.  The circle of light was gone.  
"Sebastian!" she cried.  "Where are you?"
	The drones stopped in their tasks, and suddenly Annika felt a billion eyes 
looking at her; it chilled her to the bone.  And then they spoke as one, as the Borg 
always did, a dark chorus setting the stage.  "Everywhere, mother," the Borg answered.
	"Sebastian," she said, crying.  "Don't do this!"
	"There is no other choice," the Borg answered.  "The Jedi -Sebastian- is part 
of us now."
	"Why?!" she cried.  "Why did you do it?!"
	"You are all that was left," the Borg answered.  "Everyone else has been taken 
away.  There was only one way to save you, the last one Sebastian had left."
	"No!" she shouted.  "It doesn't have to be this way!"
	"Would you ask your son to bear this burden alone?" the Borg asked.  "With no 
mother or father, no wife or daughter, no friend at his side, no allies to turn to?  He 
tried to be strong, 7 of 9, but no one is this strong, not as an individual."  One of 
the drones stepped closer.  It took Annika a moment to recognize the drone behind the 
implants and skin tone, and she started to weep.  "Now strength is irrelevant," 
Sebastian said with the voice of the collective.  "He will adapt to service us."  
	Annika wept as the ship and all the Borg faded into darkness.  She soon felt 
Picard embrace her in his fatherly way, and she cried on his shoulder.  "This can't be 
happening," she said.
	"There are some things we can change," Picard said.  "And there are some that 
we can only accept."
	"Never," she said with fire in her voice.  "I'll stop him."
	"It's too late for that," Picard said.
	"I will not lose my son to them!" Annika said.  "And I'll kill anyone who gets 
in my way!"


CHAPTER XXVII

	It's been stated that war is the continuation of diplomacy by other means, but 
those means bear little resemblance to diplomacy.  The threat of war is like pulling a 
pin on a grenade in a fairly small room; both sides know that tossing it is going to 
hurt both no matter what they do.  But sometimes despite that knowledge somebody drops 
it, and people die.  The Vong don't mind; they're like a masochist with a grenade... 
they enjoy the explosion, the hurt gives them strength, death is glorious.  War is the 
diplomacy of the Vong, and all you could hope to do would be to close their embassy.  
If you didn't, then your people suffered and died... sisters and brothers, mothers and 
fathers, daughters and sons... like Jacen.
	"Fire," Empress Leia Solo ordered.  
	The Shade's superlaser lanced out into space and hit the planet.  Leia never 
asked for its name... giving it a name gives it uniqueness, and snuffing out that 
uniqueness would be more difficult.  That was an old military approach.  Call the enemy 
Fritz or Tojo or Charlie... they're all the same, and one less isn't going to make a 
difference.  It's much easier to blow the head off of Fritz than Karl Liebkind, who's 
hoping to make it home to marry the girl down the road and join his father in the 
sausage-making business.  The white armor of the stormtroopers had made that so easy 
for them during the rebellion... you could convince yourself for a moment that there 
weren't actually human beings inside those suits so you could find the part of yourself 
to pull the trigger.  Now Leia was pulling the trigger on the largest weapon that still 
existed.  The memory of her dead son gave her the will to pull it.
	It was another world inhabited only by the Vong.  How long this would last 
before they started using Imperial citizens as shields was uncertain, but the Vong 
didn't seem to have an ethic to protect non-combatants.  Would Jacen be enough for Leia 
to pull the trigger then, or would the thought of a thousand dead children stay her 
hand?  The day would come, and Leia knew that there would be no right decisions to 
make.  The abstract thoughts and cold mathematics work until the power to carry them 
out is placed into your hands.  Killing ten thousand innocent people to save ten 
billion made sense, but something like that should require ten thousand pulls of the 
trigger.  If one life lost saved so many, there should be some respect for that 
sacrifice, something more than the single word "fire."
	Leia had once heard someone compare Luke to Tarkin; she had almost lost all 
control over the remark.  Luke's destruction of the first Death Star killed a million 
people, possibly more, but there was a difference the critic seemed to ignore.  Tarkin 
destroyed Alderaan to kill its people; Luke destroyed the Death Star to destroy the 
weapon.  Like Han had told the Federation officers who opposed the destruction of Death 
Star II, they would be more than happy to let all the people on board leave before it 
was blown up, but they didn't seem inclined to do so.  Luke never pulled the trigger to 
kill someone, he did it to stop a weapon from deliberately killing someone.  So, who 
would she be closer to when the time came: Luke, savior of the Rebellion, or Tarkin, 
butcher of Alderaan?
	"Your highness," the captain said, "the Vong are in full retreat."
	"Excellent, proceed to the next target."  Leia looked out the window at the 
newly formed asteroid field.  The planet had no name...
	"Your highness," a lieutenant said as he came up and bowed, then handed her a 
datapad.  Leia took it and looked it over, her eyes widening.
	"Captain," she said, "belay that order.  Hold position until further notice, 
and send a message to Chandrilla; I want to speak with Volgo Terraine immediately."
	"Yes, Empress," the captain said, but Leia was already on her way out, her 
royal guard escort close behind.  There was a holo-theater in her private quarters; the 
guards remained outside as she entered and activated it.  Volgo Terraine soon appeared.
	"Empress," Terraine said with a bow.  "I take it this is in regard to the news 
on the Sith?"
	"Where is he?" Leia asked, cutting straight to the one question that mattered 
to her.
	"The delta quadrant.  We've been tracking the homing beacon on board, but we've 
been keeping our distance to avoid tipping our hand."
	"Good keep that up," she said.  "I'll deal with him myself."
	"Respectfully, Empress, are you sure that's wise.  The Sith has proven to be an 
extremely dangerous foe.  If he killed you-"
	"I know," Leia said, "but we can't allow this cancer to go unchecked any 
longer.  I will do what I feel is best for the Empire, regardless of my personal 
feelings."
	"I'm glad to hear that, your highness.  Shall I send our data to the Shade?"
	"Yes," Leia said.  "And if this bears fruit, make certain those responsible for 
this information are compensated."
	"Of course, highness."  The hologram vanished, and Leia activated the commlink 
in her quarters.  
	"Captain, change of plan.  Deploy the fleet and set our course to the wormhole.  
Time is of the essence."  She removed her cloak and returned to the holo-theater.  
"Computer, sparring program 1A."  She lit her lightsaber as six combatants materialized 
out of the aether.  With the determination of someone with a huge obstacle before them, 
she jumped into the fray.

	There was a knock on the wall and Anakin looked up from the stack of datapads 
he'd buried himself in for the past fifteen hours.  It was Lucinda, looking rather 
nervous.  "Hi," she said with visible discomfort at so plain a word.  "Um, I heard 
about& about Jacen.  He was a great guy, I'm sorry."
	Anakin put the datapad down.  "No, he wasn't.  He was arrogant and impatient, 
and nearly impossible to get along with."  He shook his head.  "But he was my brother.  
And he was a good Jedi… probably could've been a great Jedi."  He gave a short, 
humorless laugh.  "It was supposed to be me, you know?  Field assignments like that 
were my and Jaina's job.  If she hadn't made that one little mistake, it would've been 
me there."
	"Look," Lucinda said, "you can't blame yourself for what happened-"
	"Oh, I don't," Anakin said.  "It just… it just makes you think.  I mean, I knew 
going into this that death was a risk, but… but it didn't really seem like a real risk, 
you know."  He shook his head.  "I'm sorry, that sounded stupid."
	"No, I get it.  You think of risking your life but not actually losing it.  
I've felt the same way… ever since you told me about your uncle.  And now with Jacen… 
Anakin, I don't know about you, but this scares me."
	"Me too," he admitted.  "And that was the point.  The Sith sent back that 
little message to us: we could be next."  He faltered a moment.  "Look, if you want 
out, no one here would look down on you for it."
	"Hey, I'm Corellian," Lucinda said with a forced grin.  "We don't back down 
from a fight."
	"I suppose we don't," Anakin said, trying to smile back.  "But we're going to 
have to be careful now."
	"Tell me about it."
	He looked back to the pile of datapads, and then pushed them over.  "You know 
what?  To hell with this.  I'm going to bed.  This stuff will still be here in the 
morning, and I'm sick of losing sleep to this place."
	"Good for you," she replied.  "Life's too short to lose sleep over school."
	"Exactly," he said as he got up.  "Too short."
	"You spend too much time at this, you're just going to watch life pass you by."
	"Good advice," Anakin replied.  "Watch for opportunities or you'll miss them."
	"Absolutely."  She grabbed him and kissed him deeply.  The moment drew out into 
the fuzzy abstraction of time that only lack of sleep and pure joy can bring.  Anakin 
looked at her with eyes widened as they finally parted.  
	"You're not going to hit me, are you?"
	Lucinda smiled.  "Only if you want me to."

	Volgo Terraine was reading a report when Kilana walked in.  The office was 
Spartan, but clearly functional, with terminals, display screens, holoprojectors, and 
items Kilana couldn't even begin to identify strategically placed around the room.  He 
was not what Kilana had expected, but as he rose to meet her she felt old instincts 
kick in.  He was one of the Founders; she could feel it.  "Greetings," he said a bit 
uncomfortably.  "You are Kilana, yes?"
	"Yes, Founder," Kilana said, a little nervousness in her own voice.  "I am 
sorry to disturb you; I realize you have a great deal of work to do."
	"It's no bother," he replied, but Kilana wondered if he meant it.  "What is it 
you want, Kilana?"
	She hesitated.  "At first, I wanted to learn how best to serve you, Founder.  I 
know it is you who created me.  You are gods… or so I thought."  She let the dangerous 
implication out there for him, waiting nervously for the response.  He smiled.
	"We are not gods, and I wouldn't want to be."
	"Why not?"
	"Because there'd be no one left to pray to." Terraine said.  "So if it's not to 
serve, why did you come to me?"
	"I-"  Kilana faltered for a moment, which was silly since the worst part was 
now over.  "I'm seeking an answer.  Even though you're not a god, your kind still 
created me.  I was hoping you would know."
	"I'll try," he said as he seemed to squirm under her gaze.
	"There was a human," she said, plunging forward.  "He saved me from a life as a 
servant living in degradation.  And because of this generosity he's lost his family.  
It's not right."
	"No, it isn't," Terraine admitted.
	"Why, Founder?" she asked.  "Why did this happen?  Why is it a hero like that 
should suffer for good when those who deceived me live in luxury?  Where's the justice 
in that?"
	Terraine couldn't look at her.  "I think I know what you're talking about.  
You're right, there's no justice in that, and I wish I can give you an answer, but I 
can't."
	"Neither could he," she admitted.  "Tell me, Founder, before he left, he told 
me something I didn't understand.  'It's not the tyrants that bleed.'  What does that 
mean?"
	Terraine looked thoughtful.  "I think he was referring to an old saying from 
his world: 'The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of 
tyrants.'  He's probably right; in my experience, it's not the tyrants who bleed... 
salvation is earned by the blood of heroes."
	"But now he's left, and I don't think he'll ever return.  He's not going to try 
to make them pay, or face the Vong.  He's just going to stand by and do nothing."
	"I find it hard to blame him, given the future that's been taken from him."  
Terraine sat on the edge of his desk, as if the weight of the Empire were resting on 
his shoulders.  "Even heroes should be allowed to dream, shouldn't they?"
	"His dream is over because of me," Kilana said.  "How can I make it right?"
	"I don't think you can."
	"I can't accept that," she said.  "There must be something."
	Terraine looked back up at her.  "There's one way."
	"What is it?"
	"Become a hero yourself."
	Kilana looked at him like he was mad.  "What?  I can't do that!  I'm no Jedi."
	"If that's what you feel, Kilana, then so be it."  He got up and returned to 
his seat behind his desk.
	"What are you doing?"
	"Trying to bring a little order in this chaos.  It's been an uphill battle for 
decades, but if I don't do it, who will?"  Like a Founder, she thought, he always knew 
the right words.
	Kilana found her way out to where Han Solo and Julian Bashir were waiting.  
"Well," Han asked casually, "you get an answer?"
	"Yes," Kilana said.  "I'm going to help you."
	Han and Bashir looked at each other, than back at her.  "Well, that's a fine 
sentiment," Bashir said, "but our work's over.  Sebastian's going to claim the cure."
	"And that ends it?" Kilana asked.  "You're going to just stop."
	"I'm getting too old for this sort of thing," Bashir said.  "And I'm a doctor; 
my place is helping people fight disease and maybe reduce a little of the suffering in 
this war."
	"Mr. Solo?" Kilana asked.  
	Han shifted uneasily for a moment, then threw up his hands.  "Aw hell, I'm 
still a sucker for a pretty face.  Bastian left us all that information we never got 
to; might as well put it to some good use.  You want a lift back to Charity, doc?  
Delta quadrant's going to be our first stop anyway."
	"Assuming the ship can get off the ground, I'd love a ride," Bashir said with a 
smile.
	"Everyone's a critic," Han grumbled, but he led the way out of the building 
towards the docking bay.

	The Raven settled down on the edge of the island before the shield.  Sebastian 
shut everything down on the ship and went through the tasks involved in setting the 
ship up for long-term storage.  The saltwater air would probably render the whole point 
moot, but someone might get stranded down here some day, and if they couldn't get the 
ship to take off, maybe the transmitter would still work.  He'd been marooned for 
months not far from this system, and he would have appreciated it if someone else had 
been so courteous.  
	Sebastian sat there, in the low light that filtered through the window, holding 
the holoprojection taken from the last medical scan of his unborn daughter.  Even then, 
she was so beautiful... "Hi," he said, his voice barely audible.  "It's me, your 
father.  I hope you remember me," his voice shook a little, "because I haven't 
forgotten you.  I know I didn't know you very long, never even had the chance to hold 
you, but I want you to know that doesn't make me love you any less."  He wiped away the 
tears, the last ones he'd ever shed.  "I was going to name you Morgan... Morgan 
Skywalker.  There's so much I wanted you to see and hear and feel.  I was going to take 
you to visit Earth and see the beauties of that world.  We were going to linger in the 
wormhole, just watch it for hours, and appreciate just how much we owed to it being 
there for us.  Every night I would tell you the stories your grandmother told me, to 
give you the chance to believe, even if only for a little while, that there was a 
happily ever after.  I was going to end this war for good, to bring about an 
unprecedented era of peace.  I wanted you to be spared the pain and obligations of 
being a warrior.  Our family has a history of strong women."  He stopped to indulge a 
few sobs.  "I wanted to see you grow into one too.  I just....  I just wanted to hear 
you call me 'daddy.'  Just once."  He buried his face in his hands, and his shoulders 
shook as he wept bitterly.
	One shot... that was all it had taken to destroy him.  Not kill him... the Sith 
had done far more than that; he'd destroyed who Sebastian Skywalker was.  This thing 
was just a body pretending it was still alive... and so there was no reason not to take 
this last step.  He put the projector down on the co-pilot seat and left the cockpit.  
He walked down the ramp and had it seal behind him to keep out any curious little 
beasts that might try to make it a nest.
	Sebastian took a deep breath as he stood before the shimmering wall of energy.  
This was it... there was no returning once he crossed this point.  But still, he was 
left a choice between his mother's life and his humanity.  He knew which was more 
important to him.  He stepped through.
	The Borg city was a kind of shanty-town, more like what was seen on the hind 
end of nowhere in heavy poverty than the remnants of a galactic superpower.  They all 
stared at him as he walked past; he said nothing, and they said nothing in return.  He 
walked towards the largest building in the city, figuring it had to house something 
important if it wasn't the center of operations, and he wouldn't mind getting a look at 
what was inside.  Nobody stopped him, although a few seemed to start following him.  He 
didn't acknowledge their presence.
	The door opened before him and Sebastian stepped inside.  His eyes adjusted to 
the lower lighting and he made out dozens, perhaps hundreds, of ex-Borg.  He recognized 
the Queen from all those years ago; she was smiling at him.  "Welcome home," she said.
	"This isn't my home," Sebastian said curtly, looking over the others.  "Who 
infected my mother?"
	"One of us," the Queen said.  "It was necessary to-"
	"Who," Sebastian said with a voice that was equal parts judgment on high and 
threats from below, "did it?"
	The Borg looked amongst themselves; finally a large man stepped forward.  "I 
did," he confessed.  "On Tatooine, in the tavern-"  He never finished the sentence.  
There was Jedi-tempered reflexes and Borg-enhanced strength, but most important of all 
was the fist at the end of it all that struck the man in the face, knocking him off his 
feet and sending him sliding several meters across the floor in an unconscious heap.
	"Thump," Sebastian said.  He probably broke most of the bones in his right 
hand, but it was worth it.
	"That wasn't necessary," the Queen said sternly.
	"Neither was infecting my mother," Sebastian said.  "I came here in the end by 
choice; the suffering you've brought-"
	"Is nothing compared to the suffering she brought to our people?"  Suddenly, 
the Queen found she couldn't breathe; she tried futilely to loosen the grip on her 
throat somehow as she stared into Sebastian's face... she'd seen that expression once 
before on his father's.
	"Some madman just killed my wife and daughter before my eyes," Sebastian said 
in a voice like liquid nitrogen, "so I am not in a very good mood."  He released her.  
"Push me just a little too far and the Dark side is waiting, and if that happens I 
assure you I will kill every last person in this city."
	The Queen was doubled-over, coughing in the wake of the attack.  "I thought- 
you were- a Jedi?"
	Sebastian walked over and bent down to her level.  "Not any more," he said in 
that same cold voice.  "Now I'm a Borg."
	"Borg- don't act this way."
	"I'm also a slow learner."  He straightened up and walked over towards a large 
piece of equipment, looked it over, then leapt and pulled himself on top of it.  "All 
right, ladies and Borg, let's get this started.  You need me, I don't need you, so 
starting now this operation is under my command.  You don't like it, fine, leave; I'm 
sure there's a Vong out there who'd like to make friends with you.  Second, I'm sure 
this can of half and half you call a colony already has a plan in place.  You wouldn't 
be so stupid as to drag me down here without one, right?"
	"Yes," the Queen said.  "We've worked something out."
	"Good, starting now nobody scratches their ass without my say-so.  I want to 
know every detail of this plan, every schematic, every theory."
	"I thought you said you were a slow learner?" the Queen added irritably.
	"Third, don't correct me, it pisses me off."
	"Anything else?" the Queen asked.
	"Just remember, you freaks called me, I didn't call you.  You don't like my 
plan, that's fine, go find yourself another messiah.  Otherwise you stick with me, and 
the galaxy will remember what it is the Borg can do.  Now, let's get this started."  
Sebastian hopped back down to the floor.  "Oh, and one other thing.  Send me Typhoid 
Larry there when he wakes up; I've got a job for him to do to try and make up for this 
mess."


CHAPTER XXVIII

	Annika Hansen Skywalker's eyes fluttered open, revealing the blur that was her 
room.  She moaned to herself as the unpleasant existence that was consciousness 
descended on her again.  Finally, her vision resolved the blob in front of her into the 
face of the Doctor.  He was smiling, and for once it didn't seem forced.  "Good 
morning.  How do you feel?" he asked.
	"I use nerve receptors in my skin, same as everyone else," she said, following 
it up with a cough.  "But I'm also feeling less sick."
	"I'm glad to hear that," the Doctor said.  "And your prognosis is excellent.  
The new treatment is destroying the fungal disease, and your nanoprobes have already 
begun repairing the damage.  It's still early, but I think you'll make a full 
recovery."  His smile slowly faded.  "I thought you'd be a little happier to hear 
that."
	"I know what's happened," Annika said.  "How you've acquired a cure."
	"How could you-"
	"It doesn't matter.  What matters is the price is too high, and I've got to set 
things right."  She tried getting up, but the Doctor put his hand on her shoulder and 
held her down.
	"You know about the Borg," the Doctor said, and there was no hiding his visible 
distaste at the necessity of their involvement.  "I'm afraid in your state we couldn't 
be picky about our allies."
	"We've got to stop them," Annika said.  "We can't let Sebastian do this."
	"I'm afraid he's made up his mind."
	"Then I guess I'll have to change it."  Annika tried harder to get up, but the 
Doctor was holding her down without any sign of effort. 
	"You're not fit to walk, much less fly a ship," the Doctor said.  "And even if 
you were, you're no match for the ex-drone outside the door."
	Annika's eyes narrowed.  "They sent a guard."
	"No, Sebastian sent a guard," the Doctor said.  "He knew you'd try to leave, 
and he said he didn't want to go through this for nothing."
	"Doctor," Annika said desperately, "I can't let him go through with this."
	"You're not fit to fly, even as a passenger," the Doctor said.
	"Then go to Sanctuary for me!" she pleaded.  "Talk him out of it."
	"I don't have a mobile emitter, remember?" the Doctor said.
	Annika sunk back into the bed.  "You're right, I forgot."  Her eyes became 
downcast.  "That's never happened before."
	"And you can't send anyone else," the Doctor pointed out.  "The-"
	"The shield will only let Borg pass through," Annika finished wearily.  "Which 
means it has to be me."
	"Annika, you can't.  And even if you could, by what right would you?"
	"What?" Annika said, her mind having trouble keeping up in its current state.
	"This was Sebastian's choice, Annika.  He wants you to live.  How long are you 
going to keep making choices for him?"
	"You wouldn't understand!" Annika said sharply, then immediately regretted it.  
"I didn't mean it like that," she added in as tender a voice as possible.  "I mean- 
he's all I have left of Luke now… all I have left of my family.  I can't give him away 
to the Borg."
	"Even if he wants to?"
	"No," she said.  "He doesn't know what he's getting into.  He thinks it'll save 
him from having to bear the grief, but it takes away all the good with it.  And… and if 
he joined with them, I'd have to fight him.  I can't let the Borg run loose again.  
Doctor- I've been through this once& I can't do it again.  Not with my son."
	"I understand," he replied.  "But right now you're not in any condition to stop 
anyone.  Wait until you get your strength back, and then see what you can do."

	The Eclipse-class star destroyer Shade dropped out of hyperspace in the delta 
quadrant.  A day's worth of careful tracking had led them this far, but it seemed that 
was as far as it would go.
	"The signal is gone, sir," came the report.  "But it definitely originated in 
this system. There's only one planet which could potentially support life, sir, but I'm 
not getting any readings."
	The captain stepped over to the Empress' side.  "We can destroy it, if you 
wish, highness."
	Yes, Leia thought, we could... was it the Jedi way, though?  Was destroying the 
entire planet to kill one Sith overkill?  Yes... but that didn't mean it wasn't a good 
idea.  "Not yet," she said.  "Bring us closer; I want to know for certain that the Sith 
is here, and to make sure there's no collateral damage."
	"Yes, highness."  The captain left to give the order; Leia remained where she 
was, watching the world grow through the window until it filled the view.  It looked 
barren and lifeless... a good thing, since that meant there would likely be no innocent 
lives lost if they-  Wait, why destroy the planet?  An orbital bombardment would 
suffice, wouldn't it?  The Sith was powerful, but not invulnerable.  Why was she 
thinking of going that far?  Was it becoming too easy to watch worlds die, too easy to 
pull the trigger?  No, she told herself, it was her caution.  The Sith had slipped 
through their fingers so many times, with such devastating consequences, that half-
measures didn't seem good enough.  There was still a tiny chance he could somehow 
survive... but with the entire planet destroyed, that would be the end of him for 
certain.
	"Captain," came the report, "we've picked up several humanoid life readings 
below the surface."
	"Can you be more specific?" the captain asked.  "Is there a way to tell if the 
assailant is among them?"
	Leia continued to stare at the planet, the sound of the bridge fading into the 
background as her own breathing seemed to drown it out.  Before her the planet's 
surface seemed to burn away, showing her the caverns the dwellers had now taken over.
	Greetings, Jedi
	Leia felt the temperature drop ten degrees.  Who are you?
	The one you seek.
	You killed my son.
	He was already dead when he went to Provag, I just helped him finish the job.  
Are you ready to face me as well?
	Leia returned to the here and now and turned to the captain.  "Commence primary 
ignition," she ordered.
	"Yes, highness," the captain said.  If he was confused by her sudden change, he 
hid it well as he went about giving the orders to destroy the planet.
	Ah, cheating? the Sith thought.
	Never taunt a woman with her finger on a superlaser, Leia thought back.
	Ha!  You know, Sebastian tried cheating too... he ran away.  I killed his 
pretty wife for that.
	Your killing ends here.
	Only if you come down here and stop me.
	I don't have to come down there.  Superlaser, remember?
	Then I guess I'll just have to make you come down.
	Leia's eyes widened and her mouth fell open.  "Captain-" she began, but the 
ship shook, and the planet twisted sideways in the window, knocking much of the 
standing bridgecrew off their feet.
	"Find the source of that tractor beam!" the captain ordered as he tried 
righting himself.
	"It's not a tractor beam," Leia said, grabbing hold of the rail before the ship 
lurched again towards the planet, the Shade's engines losing the tug of war battle.  
"Dovin Basilisks."  As if they needed further proof that the Sith had aligned himself 
with the Vong.
	"Find them!" the captain ordered.  But the ship was in a tumble now, dropping 
towards the planet without control.  A turbolaser bolt managed to find one of the Vong 
creatures, but it barely slowed them as they neared the atmosphere.
	"Highness," the guard next to her said; it spoke volumes.  Leia looked at the 
planet spinning beyond the window, and nodded.  "Emergency evacuation," the guard said 
into his commlink.  Leia and her royal guards vanished from the bridge.
	The captain seemed to reach the same conclusion.  "Abandon ship," he ordered, 
although it was bereft of the passion he'd had in the previous minute.  Still, the crew 
of the Shade didn't argue as they abandoned their posts and headed for escape pods, 
shuttles, and transporters.  The captain stayed where he was.  It wasn't going down 
with the ship, it was the knowledge that this was the end even if his body somehow 
survived.  He managed to lose the flagship... you couldn't recover from that kind of 
disgrace.

	The impact was beautiful in a detached sort of way.  The ship struck on its 
side, cracking and warping under the deceleration and force of its own mass.  Dust 
kicked up like geysers as the ship dug further into the ground, collapsing in on itself 
as it did so.  Towers broke off and tumbled past the ship to form their own craters, 
sometimes kilometers away; but they wouldn't last long.  The reactor finally went, and 
the wreckage exploded like a thousand sunrises.
	Molly O'Brien turned off the display and turned to the Sith students.  "Now, 
mop up," she said.  "The survivors will be confused for a time; use that to your 
advantage.  But don't be overconfident.  Remember the master's lesson: fight from a 
position of strength, no matter what that requires."  They said nothing in response, 
they just tied their datapads into the sensors to keep them up to date on the location 
of the survivors, then proceeded to the hangar.  The Sith climbed aboard swoops and 
speeders and swept out into the light to finish the job.

	The royal guards leapt into action the moment they rematerialized on the 
planet.  They swept the area quickly looking for hostiles, then moved on to ensuring 
the longer-term safety of the Empress.  The emergency evacuation protocol included 
beaming down a survival package, which they now tossed open and began setting up a 
shelter.  Leia considered interrupting, but then thought better of it.  What was she 
going to do, wander the planet looking for the Sith?  He'd forced the crash; he no 
doubt planned to come to her.  She sat down cross-legged on the sand and slipped into 
her meditation to prepare for the coming battle.  It seemed she didn't have long to 
wait; she jumped up from her crouch as she felt a tremor in the Force, and leapt aside 
just in time to avoid the laser blasts.  The guard nearby wasn't as lucky.
	Leia turned and watched the swoop as it looped back, getting ready for another 
run.  "Don't shoot," she told the other guard.  She could tell he was surprised by the 
order, but he gave no response; you don't question orders from the Empress, even if 
they seemed suicidal.  The weapons fired again, but Leia easily deflected them as she 
ran towards the swoop.  She jumped and somersaulted, then drove her foot into the 
driver's chest.  The guard, seeing what her plan was, took off after the decelerating 
speeder while Leia and the rider got back to their feet.  Leia was momentarily 
surprised to see her adversary pull out a lightsaber of her own, but didn't give the 
opposition time to react.  She struck twice hard, putting her opponent on the 
defensive, then twisted her lightsaber back and thrust a hand into the woman's face, 
knocking her backwards into a wall of rock.  Leia swung before the woman could think, 
and her lightsaber hit the ground, soon followed by the hand that had been wielding it.
	"Who are you?" Leia demanded.  The woman was staring at her stump.  "I asked 
you a question," she said sharply.
	The woman turned back to face Leia.  "Sith, your highness," she said with a 
rumble of menace.  "I watched your son die."
	Leia didn't stick her lightsaber through the Sith, but only just.  The wound 
was still too fresh to be prodded in this manner, even if it was amateurishly 
transparent.  "Come with me," she growled.
	"And if I don't?" the woman asked with a smirk.  "What will you do?  Kill me?"  
She jumped as the lightsaber struck the rock where a moment before her head had been, 
then turned to Leia in shock.
	"Yes," Leia said.  
	"But... you're a Jedi!"
	"I doubt killing a gnat like you will make much of a difference," Leia bluffed.  
At least, she hoped she was bluffing.  It wouldn't take much for her to run this woman 
through and leave her here.
	The Sith didn't seem willing to take the chance and started walking where Leia 
pointed.  Leia grabbed the woman's lightsaber and hooked it to her own belt, then they 
entered the makeshift camp.  The guard was just returning with the swoop; it seemed 
undamaged.  She took a look at it; there was the flight recorder, which led right back 
to the caverns, and probably to this little Sith's master.  "I have to do something," 
she told the guard.  "Alone.  Watch her.  If she shows any sign of trouble, shoot 
her." 	"Yes, highness," the guard said.  Leia left them alone; she hoped the guard 
would live, but she had a feeling the Sith had enough training to trick and kill him 
even with only one hand and no weapon.  Still, she had to finish this, and she couldn't 
simply kill the woman in cold blood simply because she didn't trust her.  
	Leia climbed on board the swoop and hit the throttle, tearing off over the 
surface of the barren world.  She wondered if she was heading into a trap; simply 
leaving a swoop for her to find would have been suspicious, but sending someone to kill 
her would make it seem fortuitous.  Regardless, there was nothing else she could do; 
like with Jacen's funeral, this was something she wanted to get past and move on.  
Hopefully she would still be alive to do so. 
	Leia slowed the craft when she saw the opening ahead.  It was well-hidden, but 
still large enough to allow ships to come and go without too much trouble.  She pulled 
into the hangar and slipped off the bike, ready for resistance, but there was none.  
She reached out, but if the Sith was here, he was hiding himself well.  Carefully she 
followed the only exit out of the room and into the caverns; there was artificial 
lighting hastily strung up along it.  It reminded her of the good old days of the 
Rebellion, hiding out in whatever safe nest you could find and putting together only 
what you could just as quickly take down and run with.  
	Leia continued through the caves; where they forked, she let her instincts 
guide her.  Soon she found her way into another larger cavern.  Its size swallowed the 
light, but it was clear to see this was a room of some importance; stairways and 
deckplating and equipment had been set up, probably scavenged from pre-fab kits off of 
old star destroyers for their quick garrison posts.  Doors led off into what were 
probably small personal quarters.  The Sith certainly wasn't living in luxury.
	A figure stepped out of the shadows on the small rise and Leia pulled out her 
lightsaber.  She didn't light it yet, but she stood ready to.  The figure came a little 
closer.  "Welcome, your highness," came the woman's voice.  "I've been waiting for you 
for a very long time."
	"Do I know you?" Leia asked as the woman's face came a bit more into the light.
	"It was a long time ago," she said.  "I was called Janeway then, and you were a 
mere princess.  Now you are the Empress and I am the Oracle... things change as time 
passes."
	Janeway?  Finally the memory resurfaced.  "You were in the rebellion," she 
said.  "And when Annika was sick-"
	"Yes, poor girl.  She finally accepted her humanity, only to make the mistake 
of marrying your brother.  She should have known better than to trust him, given how 
your father turned out."
	"That was a long time ago," Leia said.  "And I know Annika wouldn't take back 
one minute she and Luke had together."
	"More's the pity," Janeway said.  "All that Borg wisdom and she couldn't see 
what your entire family really are: opportunistic traitors."
	Leia was caught a bit off guard by the hostility.  "What do you mean?  You were 
in the Rebellion same as we were.  We were allies."
	"We were allies, once," Janeway said.  "Until you chose to throw in with the 
winning side.  You betrayed us."
	"I did what I had to," Leia said.  "I couldn't defeat the Empire, but I could 
change it from within."
	"Really?  Military supremacy under the control of a single leader, with no 
checks by civilian authority?  I can see you've made a great deal of progress."
	"We are in a desperate situation," Leia said.  "And I will do whatever is 
necessary to preserve our people."
	"So I've seen," Janeway said.  "Even if it means using that terrible weapon?"  
Leia said nothing.  "The darkness is growing in you, isn't it."
	"Where's the Sith?!" Leia demanded, ignoring the slight.
	"That is why you're here, of course," Janeway said.  "Revenge is hardly the way 
of the Jedi."
	"This isn't about revenge," Leia snapped.  "It's about stopping this Sith 
before he murders again."
	"So you will murder him first?"  Janeway gave a sound of disappointment.  "Why 
won't you admit that the Dark side has already claimed you?  You've allowed your 
emotions to dictate your actions, rather than peace.  You have become the Emperor you 
yourself once despised."
	Leia shot daggers at her.  "You're gravely mistaken."
	"Oh no," Janeway said in a distant voice.  "I'm afraid it is you who are 
mistaken."  She grinned.  "About a great many things."  She stepped closer; there was 
something odd about her that tickled the edges of Leia's senses.  "I told the Sith how 
to kill your boy."  Leia's eyes widened at her words.  "Were it not for me he'd never 
have found Jacen Solo.  How does that make you feel, Empress?"  She chuckled just a 
little.  "I can see the anger growing in your expression, the hate swelling.  What are 
you going to do, hm?  You're armed, I am not.  Come," she held her arms away from her 
body slightly.  "Kill me; you are so close to darkness, this one last step can't be too 
hard.  Let your hatred destroy me, Empress, and complete your journey.  Become 
everything you ever fought against."
	Leia's teeth were bared, and her voice was a rumble.  "Where's the Sith?"  A 
lightsaber activating answered her, and she turned and lit her own.  There was no mask 
this time, just him, prepared for battle.  
	Ben Skywalker spun his lightsaber twice for show.  "You've found him," he said.
	Leia ignored the show and slipped into a combat stance.  "Then it ends here."
	"Only for you."  And the battle began.


CHAPTER XXIX

	Leia approached Ben, but didn't attack; she just watched him.  He was a Sith, 
and while they could be patient if it was demanded of them, when the chance came to 
finally cut loose, self-restraint was impossible.  Ben would make the first move if she 
waited, giving her a chance to catch him with a surprise counter-strike.  It was slim, 
but in a match like this, you had to take every edge.  When Force users faced each 
other, the duel turned on those edges.
	Ben attacked, but Leia could sense the restraint.  He was testing her limits, 
trying to see how great a threat she was, how best to defeat her.  Leia responded in 
kind, with restrained blocks that betrayed nothing of her technique or skill.  She 
didn't go to all the trouble of finding him to try and impress this Sith with her 
mastery of dueling. After half a minute of this his Sith nature got the better of him, 
and he cut loose with an almost mad technique, but Leia remained on the defensive for 
the moment.  He was incredibly fast, and there was no mistaking the power he had; he 
practically glowed to her Jedi senses, but Leia didn't let that affect her.  She held 
him at bay, watching for the opening with the patience of a Jedi, a breaker against the 
maelstrom that was the Sith.  Sometimes she blocked the blow, sometimes she simply 
dodged out of the way, but always she remained one step ahead of the attack, to his 
obvious frustration.
	"Are you planning to bore me to defeat?" Ben finally asked.  "I've met more 
challenging holograms than you, Jedi."
	"You'll pardon me if I don't follow your path," Leia retorted.  The strikes 
continued, quick and unrelenting, but it was gradually starting to eat away at her 
edges.  She drew strength from the Force, but even with it, she wasn't young any more, 
and a crash course wasn't enough to make up for several years of neglected practice.  
Every edge...
	"Oh, I can feel the Dark side in you, Jedi," Ben said coldly as he offered two 
quick strikes, then withdrew.  "Your hatred for me is strong... very impressive."  Two 
strikes, then a quick reverse, but Leia caught them all easily.  "I can feel how 
naturally it comes to you..." he followed up with a quick series of alternating high 
and low strikes, and the cavern echoed with the sound of clashing energy blades like 
bickering titans of a long dead era.  "...it's in your blood, Jedi," he remarked over 
the din.  "You can feel it running hot through your veins, filling you with strength."  
He laughed as he ground their blades together, reversed to strike at her left, then 
snap his blade forward to catch her counter-strike.  "There's no words for that 
feeling, is there?"  Ben advanced again, his blade whirling about in mad strikes, a 
sharp contrast to the minimalist technique Leia used, moving just enough to catch the 
strike to avoid being caught off guard by the one that followed.  There were no 
openings in her defense for Ben to exploit, despite the fury.  "We're not cold-blooded 
killers, we Sith," Ben remarked.  "We may be calculating, we may be merciless," he 
swung hard, and Leia found herself using all her strength to hold Ben's blade back from 
her neck, her skin prickling as it closed to within centimeters.  "But we do everything 
with passion."  Sweat ran down Leia's face as the blade moved even closer despite her 
every effort.  "Our blood runs like molten silver through our bodies, hot, fast, and 
filling us with power!"
	Leia deliberately fell backwards, Ben's lightsaber passing over her face so 
close it sheared through her hair.  Her left hand hit the floor and the arm absorbed 
the impact like a spring, and she flung herself back to an upright position, twisting 
just in time to catch Ben's opportunistic strike.  The blades ground together, and her 
eyes flicked between them and Ben's grinning face.
	"Your thoughts betray you," Ben said with a grin.  "You think I'm a monster, 
and that makes it so easy to excuse the hatred, doesn't it.  It doesn't really count if 
it's towards something like me, right?"  He pushed the blades aside slowly, then 
thrust, forcing Leia to twist and jump back to avoid the lightsaber.  Despite the 
distance he was there almost before she was ready to defend herself, and the crash 
seemed deafening as they connected.
	"You are a monster," Leia said through her teeth.  "Hiding in the shadows, 
preying on the weak.  That's your idea of power?"  Ben drew back and swung, but she 
dodged and counterswung.  Ben caught and deflected it, nearly beheading her during the 
brief opening before she had her lightsaber back for the block.
	"That's it exactly," Ben said.  "Like a hunter.  The Sith cull the weak animals 
from the herd, making it stronger."  He offered three quick strikes.  "Don't think of 
me as a monster, Jedi.  Think of me as... natural selection.  Your son, and others like 
him, were too weak.  I had to kill them for the greater good."  Ben laughed quietly to 
himself.  "The galaxy's much stronger without him dragging us all down."
	Leia couldn't help herself; if she didn't do something she'd explode.  They 
were just words, she tried to tell herself, but they were the wrong words at the wrong 
time.  She couldn't ignore them; anyone in her place would understand.  She switched 
from defense seamlessly into offense, striking savagely at him and his smug face, but 
he caught her every strike.  Distantly she knew she was playing into his hand, but she 
couldn't stop herself.  He had to die.  Ben blocked the next four strikes then swung 
with all his strength into her next swing.  Leia's lightsaber was pushed aside just 
enough by Ben's blow to leave the opening.  With the quick, precise cut of a surgeon 
her hand was cut off at the wrist, a cry of agony filling the room as she grabbed the 
stump and doubled-over.  Ben offered a bemused laugh, lightsaber pointed at her as she 
dropped down on one knee, curled up around the center of the pain.  "See now the power 
hate can give you?" he chided, chuckling to himself.  He gave a few theatrical swings 
and swung at her, all showmanship, because she was helpless.
	There it was, her edge.
	With a primal cry Leia swung up with the stolen Sith lightsaber and caught 
Ben's arm at the elbow, sending his limb tumbling through space into the shadows.  He 
offered no cry, he was too stunned.  She looked up into his face, malice in her every 
feature, and spoke with a voice like a razor on flesh.  
	"Yes!"  
	Ben was blasted off his feet into a column of rock, bouncing off it and landing 
with a heavy thud on the cave floor.  He rolled over, and Leia stood over him, 
lightsaber at his throat.  He didn't have time to move, didn't have room to resist.  
For the first time he was at a Jedi's mercy... he looked into her eyes, and wondered if 
that statement was true.
	Leia continued holding the lightsaber over the fallen Sith, breathing heavily.  
The agony had subsided for the moment, all thought now was on the crackling red beam 
and the prone form of her most despised enemy before it.  A voice said, "Finish him," 
and for a moment she thought it was in her mind.  It was what she'd been longing for, 
no matter how much she'd denied it.  She wanted him to pay for what he had done, and 
didn't care if it was justice or vengeance.  The murdering bastard deserved a far more 
agonizing end than this for what he'd done, for what he'd keep on doing if he were 
allowed to live.  With one stroke, it would all be over.  
	But she had seen Luke cross that line, and her father.  No matter what the 
intentions, what lay on the other side was darkness that was nearly inescapable.  If 
she did this, then everything would be what Janeway had said.  And then she realized 
whose voice she had heard.  She looked up at Janeway.  "Destroy him.  It's the only way 
to save your family... what's left of it."  Ben's eyes flew over to her, and there was 
malice in his expression.  "Don't even bother trying," she said to him with contempt.  
"You've failed twice now; your usefulness has reached its end."
	Leia reacted instinctively as he Force pushed her away, taking the hit without 
losing her balance.  Ben had jumped back to his feet, but his only focus now was on 
Janeway.  "No," he said with a voice saturated with hate, "yours has."  He held out his 
remaining hand towards Janeway, and force lightning launched from his fingertips.
	Janeway held up her hand, and the energy bounced off into a wall.  Ben's eyes 
went wide with shock, but if Janeway took any satisfaction in that, she hid it behind a 
mask of disgust.  "I brought you here," she said with a voice like falling stone 
blocks, "because I thought you had the power to crush my enemies.  I can see now I've 
made a mistake."  He tried again; this time Janeway deflected the energy back into Ben, 
knocking him over as Force lightning crawled over his body.  She turned back to Leia 
who was holding up her lightsaber in a defensive posture.  "I'm not your enemy here, 
Jedi," she said.  "He is.  He killed Luke Skywalker and your son, not to mention all 
the Force potentials and Jorrielle Skywalker."
	"All targets chosen by you!" Ben snarled from where he lay.  Janeway's eyebrows 
narrowed and Ben slid across the floor into the wall.
	"You're a heartless psychopath," Janeway said.  "I just gave you direction."
	"And that direction was my family," Leia said sharply.
	"You still have two children left," Janeway pointed out.  "You can spare their 
lives.  Kill this Sith now, while he's still helpless!  Otherwise he'll kill them, you 
can be certain of it!  He's already done it in his own time!"
	Leia shook her head slowly, her eyes never leaving Janeway.  "You are the real 
threat here... the real Sith.  He's just your pawn."
	Janeway straightened up; the appearance of age and feebleness seemed to slip 
into the background as she did.  "Yes, your highness.  I am the greater threat, at 
least to your vision.  Your Empire is corrupt and useless.  It will fall, and I am only 
too glad to bring that about."
	"We've been trying to change-"
	"You and Sisko?" Janeway said.  Leia's eyes widened.  "Don't act so surprised, 
I am the Oracle; that crazy old fool couldn't think to hide this from me.  You two 
thought you could tame the beast, but the Empire is rotten to the core.  Sisko knew it, 
that's why he allowed all this to happen.  The Empire will crumble... as you've 
suspected, that was his plan all along."
	"No," Leia said.  "We worked too hard for him to simply throw it all away."
	"But that's what must happen," Janeway said.  "The Empire didn't work; you know 
this.  He had his own ideas about how to fix things, but they were naive.  The Empire 
will crumble... I've seen to that."
	"And you'll just let the Vong destroy us all?" Leia said.  "Even the Empire is 
better than that."
	"The Vong?" Janeway said with a chuckle.  "They're nothing!  A tool I've used 
to smash the foundations of a corrupt government.  No, Empress, the Empire will fall, 
but we will not surrender to the Vong.  Sisko's vision of Unity will come true, it will 
merely take a different form than what you two envisioned.  Once the Empire is 
eliminated I will rally the systems to wipe out the Vong, and a new government will 
form, a just one.  A united federation of planets, if you will."  She paused.  "But 
there is another way," she said.  "You have total control of the Empire now; there is a 
way you and I could work together, Empress."
	"What, kill him?" Leia asked, gesturing towards Ben with a tilt of her head.  
"Give myself over to the Dark side?  No, don't even bother trying, Janeway."
	"It is the only way to save your children," Janeway said, and let the thought 
sit there for a while, uninterrupted.  "Your thoughts betray you, Empress.  I know your 
fear, your anger; don't deny it.  The wound is so tender, isn't it.  There is no way to 
comprehend the loss of a child than to experience it; do you want to endure that 
again... to watch another body that came from your own burned in the fire?"  Then she 
held her hand palm out, and air swirled momentarily before an image appeared, an image 
of Jacen and Ben's confrontation.  Leia flinched as the saber pierced her son's back, 
and tears forced themselves from her eyes.  The image replayed itself over and over.  
"Look into your heart," Janeway said, "and tell me you wouldn't do anything to undo 
this."
	"Stop it," Leia said, looking away.
	"One child in the grave," Janeway said, "and two more waiting to join him.  
Look at this monster... smiling, laughing as he commits his butchery.  Take your weapon 
and cut him down!  There is no other way!  If you don't then they will die!"  Leia 
opened her tear-filled eyes towards Ben Skywalker; he was struggling feebly in 
Janeway's mental grip.  "I can give you everything you've ever wanted," Janeway said 
with a chilling voice.  "The power to mete out justice, starting with him.  And it's 
only the beginning.  I can give you Alixus, Nom Anor, Garak, to deal with as you see 
fit.  No distortions of the truth to get in the way, Empress Solo.  I can help you 
destroy the Vong forces in a matter of months.  And most of all I can save what's left 
of your family from death and pain."  Leia's lip trembled as she looked between the 
image and Ben Skywalker.  "You are so close," Janeway said soothingly.  "It is such a 
small step.  One swing and all you've ever wanted is yours.  How can that be wrong?"  
Leia squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to think or feel, but Janeway's voice pierced 
through.  "I can bring him back," she said almost in lullaby tones.  "My powers are 
greater than you can imagine.  Join with me, and I will grant you this gift, Empress."
	In the wake of Janeway's offer there was nothing but the sound of Leia's own 
breathing.  She couldn't think about it because the prospect was so wonderful it was 
torture.  She reminded herself of her father, and her brother... but still, this was 
different!  This was about her love... turning into hate.  It was so unfair that the 
answer she had to give was to give up everything she wanted!  What kind of universe 
could offer her this with that price tag?!  And if that's what it was, why shouldn't 
she just take this offer rather than trying to defend it?  Years of training and 
instincts tried to build up a wall in her mind, to hold back the tide as her will moved 
inexorably towards the only decision her exhausted mind could accept.  She saw Jacen in 
her mind's eye, laid out before the pyre was lit, and her shoulders shook in grief.  
There was no choice... 
	"Empress is my title," she said, "not what I am."  She breathed deep through 
her nose to steady herself, wiped her eyes, then looked back to Janeway.  "I am a 
Jedi," she said coldly, "and no Jedi will ever stand with you."
	The image faded, and Janeway stared at Leia for some time, her face a mask 
barely restraining the contempt and hatred that rumbled below the surface.  When she 
spoke, her voice was low and chilling.  "So be it... Jedi."  Leia felt a flicker and 
she raised her lightsaber in time to catch the Force lightning that leapt from 
Janeway's hands.  She was chuckling.  "Your feeble skills are no match for the power of 
the Dark side," she chided as with a gesture Leia's lightsaber was yanked from her weak 
grip.  Force energy tore into her body as she was tossed back into the wall.  "And you 
will pay the price for your lack of vision!"
	The pain was incredible, but Leia didn't scream or cry out.  Amazingly, there 
was something almost peaceful in all of this.  She'd faced the worst of temptations, 
and she'd won.  There was nothing left that Janeway could do that was worse than that 
trial had been.  Force lightning crawled along her body, but in the midst of the 
twitching limbs and smoke, Leia had a smile on her face.  Seconds later, her smoldering 
clothing fell to the floor, empty.  
	Janeway glared at the mound for a moment, then at Ben Skywalker, who had pulled 
himself back to his feet.  "We have work to do," she rumbled.  Ben didn't respond, and 
Janeway turned and eyed him as a potential adversary.  "Don't think about betraying me, 
Ben," she warned.  "I know techniques that take five years to kill you, that leave you 
begging for death in five seconds."  Ben stewed, but said nothing.  "See to getting 
that hand replaced," she said.  "If you can manage that."  She turned and left for her 
laboratory, leaving the still smoking clothes where they lay.



CHAPTER XXX

	Annika Hansen Skywalker stormed through the corridors without looking at 
anyone.  No one else mattered at the moment to her.  Even without sensors, it was clear 
that the doors would have opened on their own anyway under her steely glare.  The final 
one opened, and there sat Sebastian talking with a medical droid.  His expression 
immediately went from calm and collected to shock at her arrival.  "Mom?!"
	"Did you think I wouldn't find out?" she demanded.
	"Well, you see-"
	"I don't want to hear any excuses," she said sharply.  "How could you?  I 
thought I raised you to have more sense?"
	"Now look," Sebastian said, but before he could continue, the door opened 
again.  "Thank the Force," he said.  "I'm gonna need some help on this one."
	"Sorry, Sebastian, but you're on your own," Luke said.  "I've still got to live 
with her."
	"Damn right," Annika said.  "And if you think that just because you and Jorri 
have moved out you can keep us in the dark, you've got another thing coming."
	"I tried contacting you, but the comm unit was malfunctioning," Sebastian said.
	"Faulty equipment is no excuse," Annika said sharply.  "I'm not missing the 
birth of my first grandchild for anything.  Now where is she?"
	"2-1B here was just filling me in," Sebastian said.  "There were complications, 
but it looks like-"  He stopped as the door opened and Dr. Bashir came out, all smiles.  
"Well?"
	"Mr. Skywalker," Bashir said as he shook his hand, "allow me to congratulate 
you on a very happy and healthy baby girl."
	The tension of Sebastian's face gave way to relief.  "Can I see her?" he asked.
	"She's your daughter," Bashir said, gesturing for him to go through.  The 
family entered and saw Jorri sitting up in bed holding the little bundle.  Even in the 
wake of labor Jorri looked more beautiful than Sebastian could remember.  He stepped 
over to her side and looked down at the pudgy face.
	"Hello, Morgan," Jorri said with the voice used for small children and idiots.  
"Hello there."
	"Oh, she is the most precious little thing I've ever seen," Annika said.  "Warn 
your parents, Jorielle, I plan to arm wrestle for babysitting privileges."
	Luke waited a short while before finally speaking.  "Can you feel it, 
Sebastian?"  Sebastian could only nod.  "She's strong with the Force... very strong."
	"That can wait," Jorri said.  "She's only been in the big bright universe for a 
few minutes, let's give her a little time."
	"Sure," Sebastian said.  "Let me hold her, please."  Reluctantly, Jorri held 
her daughter out, and Sebastian took hold of her.  She was so light it was amazing.  He 
felt her fear grow as the familiar comfort of her mother vanished, but he reached out 
to her.  It's all right.  Everything's going to be all right.  You're safe here... 
you'll always be safe.  I promise, I'll always keep you safe.
	She didn't know words yet, but Sebastian felt her response.  It was complete 
and utter trust, expressed in a way no words could have ever described.  Sebastian 
cried a little as he held her as close as he dared.  I'll always be there for you, 
Morgan.  Always.

	Sebastian's unconscious body was hefted off the hovertable onto the examination 
table.  The Queen lifted one of his eyelids, then nodded with approval.  "Let's not 
waste any time," she said.
	There were over half a dozen Borg in the room, but most of the theoretical work 
had been done by Jollin and Koli.  Those were the names registered with the Imperial 
Census Bereau, which refused to recognize Borg designations as official names, mostly 
because "Fourteen of Forty-Seven, Secondary Adjunct of Trimatrix 815" left too much 
room for error.  The two were there to oversee the overall process, with Sebastian's 
own modifications in place.  This was a sore spot for many of them, but it wasn't 
because they didn't like change.  After all, they were Borg, adapting was part of the 
job description.  Even the Queen was having a little trouble accepting his ideas, but 
Sebastian was uncompromising, and they had no choice but to give in.  Still, Romal, the 
Devaronian Sebastian had brought in, had been a source of near revolt for the outcasts.  
The Queen had taken him aside and told him point blank that this was blackmail.  He 
responded only with an ancient Earth line.  "As you sow, so shall you reap."
	"He has a death grip on something," one of the Borg remarked as she yanked on 
his right hand.  "It won't budge."
	"He's unconscious," Jollin remarked, coming around and trying to force the fist 
open, but his grip remained like iron.  "Muscle relaxant would be a mistake," he said 
looking to Koli.
	"Agreed," she said.  "It's not worth the risk.  Let's get these connections 
attached so we can proceed."

	Sebastian dropped with a sigh on the couch, then flopped over and stretched 
out, exhaustion filling every limb.  His head ground into the pillow a little to get 
comfortable, then he let out another sigh, this one sounding rather contented.  A 
little imitation answered him, and he opened his eyes and saw the little pair of eyes 
peaking over the top of the disposal bin.  He smiled, and the eyes changed, and when 
she slipped out he saw a grin a Cheshire cat would envy.  "Helloy," she said.  Whether 
it was an amalgam of "hello" and "ahoy" or just a personal quirk, Sebastian couldn't 
say, but he ignored the detail.
	"Hello," he answered.
	"Wha'you'do-ing?" Morgan asked, having constructed a new word for today.
	"I'm taking a nap, sweetie."
	"Oh, you ti-yerd?" she asked with a look of concern.
	"Yes," Sebastian answered, trying not to smile too much.  
	"Oh," she said, as if it were the worst news in the world.  "You go'n go 
sleepy?"
	"Yes," he answered.
	"O-kay," she answered, as if giving in on the point.  "I go'n get blankeh foh 
you?"
	"Okay," Sebastian said as she pulled the comforter off the other sofa and 
dragged it over.  
	Carefully, like she was packing fragile items for a hazardous journey, she 
covered him up and tucked the blanket around him.  She finished, leaving only 
Sebastian's head protruding from the downy mass of his body.  She looked it over with 
obvious approval and a sound of satisfaction.  "Dere!" she said with a big nod.  
	"Thank you," Sebastian offered.
	"Yeah.  You comfy?"
	"Yes, I'm comfy."
	"Yeah, you comfy."  She started petting the blanket like Sebastian was a big 
pet.  "Nice an' wa'm," she said in a little sing-song voice.  She let out another loud 
sigh, then walked over to the other couch and pulled off the pillow.  "Daddy," she 
said, holding up the huge pillow in front of her, "I go'n lay down wi' you?"
	"You want to lay down with me?" Sebastian said in pretend shock.
	"Yeah."
	"No!  You don't want to lay down with me!"
	"Noy," Morgan insisted, the little pirate apparently showing through.  "I wan' 
lay down wi' you."
	"Okay," Sebastian said, pretending to give in, and the girl crawled under the 
blanket while Sebastian helped position the pillow for her.  She lay on her back and 
offered yet another sigh, then looked at Sebastian.  "Comfy?" he asked.
	"Yeah," she answered.  "Nice an' wa'm."

	"Okay," Koli said, "I'm activating power.  Five percent... ten."
	"Initiate energy discharges at multiples of twenty-five," Jollin said.
	"Affirmative."

	The room was terribly dark, lit only by the soft glow of Sebastian's 
lightsaber.  He looked around with patience, but the shadows betrayed nothing.  "You 
cannot hide forever."  
	"Watch me," Morgan answered.
	Sebastian continued his slow examination of the room, but whirled as he felt a 
tremor.  His lightsaber came up and blocked Morgan's strike, then dropped to catch the 
second, then snapped up and struck her arm.  She hissed and grabbed the spot.  "Not 
bad," he said.  "But you left yourself open.
	"I see that," Morgan said through her teeth.
	"It's alright.  This is just practice."

	"Twenty percent.  Twenty-five," Koli said.
	"Initiate discharge," Jollin said.

	Sebastian let out a cry and clutched his chest.  Morgan turned off her 
lightsaber, her shock temporarily forgotten.  "What is it?"
	"I - I don't know."  Sebastian panted.  "It's... it's nothing.  Let's not worry 
about it."
	"Let me at least-"
	"It's nothing," Sebastian said, straightening up and taking a steadying breath.  
He looked at the worry in Morgan's face; she had more important things to think about.  
"You are unwise to lower your defenses," he said quickly, and Morgan instinctively 
reactivated her blade to catch his strike.  He gave her a lopsided grin and the 
sparring continued.

	"No change in the readings," Jollin said.
	"Thirty percent.  Thirty-five."

	Morgan clicked the last piece of her lightsaber in place.  It floated across 
the clearing to her grandfather, who took it out of the air and thumbed it on.  The 
blue blade sprung forth, and there was applause from the gathered family members.  Luke 
nodded with approval as he switched it off.  "Perfect," he remarked.  "And I confer on 
you the rank of Jedi Knight."
	Morgan had a grin that seemed almost too large for her face as her mother and 
father came over to embrace her.  The family gathered together and posed for holograms 
before settling in for the celebration.  Han and Luke, who had put aside their 
differences ages ago, were off to the side reminiscing about the adventures of their 
youth to the other grandchildren, arguing occasionally about who saved who when.  
Sebastian gave his daughter a fatherly kiss on the cheek.  "We're very proud of you, 
sweetie," he whispered.
	"Thanks, I- daddy!"

	"Discharge initiated.  Fifty-five percent."

	Sebastian straightened up, his joy drained away into disbelief.  "No," he said 
as he stared up at the shape that eclipsed the sun.
	"Get inside!" Annika shouted, rounding up the children and heading for the 
shelter.  Many had already done just that, but Sebastian was staring up at the 
descending Borg cube.  Morgan tugged on his arm, but he didn't move.
	"Daddy, come on!"
	"No," he said hollowly.
	"Daddy, please!"
	"I should have known it was too good to last," Sebastian said.  The Borg Cube 
was moving slowly across the landscape, perhaps half a kilometer up now.  
	"Daddy, I love you! Please, come with us!"
	Sebastian tore his eyes away from the Cube and looked at his daughters tear-
filled eyes.  He held her tight, looking over her shoulder at the Cube.  It was nearly 
here now, nearly finished.  And none of them would exist any more.  He squeezed her 
tighter.  This place isn't real... it's just your dreams, Bastian.  The years with her 
weren't real.  This life wasn't real...
	"I love you too, sweetie," he said.  That was real enough for him.  "And I'm 
not going to let you go."

	"Sixty percent," Koli said.  "Seventy."
	"I'm still not detecting any change," Jollin said.
	"Give it time," the Queen said.  "We've waited this long, let the experiment 
finish before you jump to conclusions."
	"Seventy-five percent," Koli said.  "Initiating final discharge."  The bass 
sound shook the floor.  "Eighty percent."
	"What if you kill him?" Jollin said.
	"We'll worry about that if it happens."

	The Borg Cube settled to the ground in front of the house.  It blocked out the 
light, its top blending in with the sky some three kilometers up.  Sebastian stood 
before it and trembled, but not with fear.  Anger, unfettered rage, filled him.  "No," 
he said in a voice only he heard.  "Not this time.  You're not taking them away from 
me... not again."
	"You will be assimilated," the Cube answered.
	"The hell I will," he answered.
	"Daddy?" Morgan asked, unable to hide her fear now that it had finally arrived, 
"What can we do?"
	"Keep away from it!" he shouted at her, then turned back to the cube.  "And 
you, leave us alone!"
	"Resistance is futile."
	"No!" Sebastian screamed as a wall seemed to fall down in his mind, letting all 
of the anger and hurt and grief out in a single moment.  This is real!  This is the way 
it was supposed to be!  He ran towards the Cube, an ant by comparison, but he pounded 
his fists on it in his rage.
	"Your existence as you have known it is over."
	"I made a promise!" he screamed as he beat on the cube.  "I MADE A PROMISE!!!"

	Sebastian arched his back as every muscle tightened, and despite the fact that 
he was unconscious, he screamed.  Energy arced from the walls into his body as alarms 
sounded, but it was beyond anyone's ability to shut down now.  The room stank of ozone 
and the air had a tang of metal to it.  Sebastian spasmed again with another scream.  
His fist flew open, and a gold ring tumbled from his grip and hit the floor, bouncing 
and rolling off into a dark corner, unnoticed.

	Sebastian beat the cube until his hands were covered in his own blood, but 
still he refused to relent.  "Get out of here!" he screamed.  "Leave them alone!  LEAVE 
THEM ALONE!"  He struck again, and the Cube gave under the blow.  He must have struck a 
power line, because he felt energy course through his body and toss him backwards 
through the air, dropping him on his back before blackness overtook him.

	In the wake of the experiment came a silence like a lead weight.  The Queen 
looked about at the other ex-Borg for a moment, then down at the still body of 
Sebastian.  "Is he?" she asked, reaching towards him tentatively.  She leapt away as 
his eyes snapped open.
	Sebastian sat up, his face expressionless.  When he spoke, his tone was even 
and devoid of any emotion.  "A vessel has been detected," he announced.  "Class IV 
Tactical Cube, undamaged in Sector 0197.  Initiating emergency propulsion protocols, 
stand by."
	The Queen looked uncertainly from face to face, until she was looking at 
Sebastian.  "You have access to the Borg information networks?"
	"Affirmative.  61.42% of data still accessible.  7.19% recoverable.  All 
remaining data irretrievable."
	"What about our ships?" Koli asked.
	"24.74% of known vessels unaccounted for," Sebastian said.  "Of remaining 
vessels, 62.05% damaged but salvageable.  12.80% damaged beyond repair.  Remaining 
vessels awaiting Borg drones for operation."
	"That's a lot of vessels to fill," Jollen remarked.  "We'll need to assimilate 
a world to have sufficient drones."
	"Negative," Sebastian said.  "Such an action would interfere with new Borg 
protocols.  Cloning of existing Borg using maturation chambers is the only acceptable 
choice."
	"But how are we supposed to improve ourselves otherwise?" Jollen demanded.
	"We will adapt," the Queen said.  "Sebastian is correct, we can't follow the 
old ways any longer.  New protocols are necessary to ensure our survival."
	"There are 1718 Borg in the colony," Koli said.  "If we take a sample from 
everyone, that will net us-"
	"Negative," Sebastian said.  "This Borg cannot be cloned."
	"Why not?" Koli asked.
	"Medical records indicate dangerous anomalous results in the cloning of beings 
known as 'Force sensitive.'  Danger to the Collective outweighs benefit of potential 
drones."
	"I think we should listen to him," the Queen said.  "After all, he has a 
mechanical leg over an organic one, which shows how seriously they take this."
	"It's a superstitious bit of nonsense," Jollen said.
	"That superstition is bringing a Tactical Cube here," the Queen said.  "We'd 
best be prepared for its arrival.  No doubt Imperial forces have detected an unknown 
vessel and will investigate, and we don't have the power to resist, even with a 
Tactical Cube."
	They got to work preparing the outcasts in the settlement for the final moments 
they'd been awaiting through the long years.  Sebastian, however, continued the work of 
organizing the tasks to most efficiently proceed with the rebuilding of the collective.  
7 of 9 had done a great deal of damage in those final moments, but not more than could 
be undone with sufficient analysis.  First-
	"Daddy?"
	Sebastian opened his eyes, but the light hit him like a sledgehammer.  
"Morgan?" he groaned.
	"Oh, thank the Force," she said, taking his hand in hers.  "We were so worried 
about you.  Are you feeling all right?"
	"No," he admitted.  Then he gave her hand a squeeze and smiled for her.  "But I 
will be."  He reached up and brushed the tears away from Morgan's eyes.  "I promised 
you, remember?  I'll always be here for you."
	"I know," she said.  "I love you, daddy."
	"I love you too, Morgan."  He swallowed.  "I think I'm going to get a little 
more sleep," he said.
	"Okay," Morgan said.  "Good night."
	"Good night, sweetie."  And he laid back, content in the knowledge that they 
were safe.  It was all he needed; he could face anything so long as he knew that.
	"Regeneration cycle complete."  Sebastian opened his eyes and exited his 
alcove.  The Borg Queen was nearby, and he joined her in analyzing the initial results 
of the cloning efforts, a display screen nearby showing the whirl of hyperspace as 
their Cube fled from Sanctuary.  Their cloning projections, naturally, were being borne 
out, and their number would soon be sufficient.  They said nothing to one another, 
however.  There was nothing to say.  Their thoughts were one.



[End Act II]