"Low Profile"
By: Cirran Tyris

Location: Space on approach to Drogen Shipyards, Tae'Remok system, Outer Rim
Date: Lythe 21, 4ABY

***

The beeping of the nav console jolted Cirran awake in his chair. He groggily came to his senses and looked up to find the streaks of hyperspace fading back into familiar pinpricks of light. It was always a little bit of a relief to see the stars again, as it meant that your computer hadn't malfunctioned and flown you into a gas giant, or that it had worked perfectly well, except that a comet, asteroid or other piece of space flotsam had drifted across your path at exactly the wrong time. The odds against it, especially in the latter case, were literally astronomical, but it had been known to happen. Not this time, though, thought Cirran. Another jump survived.

Cirran rubbed his eyes and checked his readouts, hoping he was actually where he wanted to be this time. The idea of creating a false trail for Durga to follow (and Cirran was pretty sure he had riled Durga up pretty good) had seemed a prudent idea, but he had ended up getting lost in his own detour after a hasty departure from Tri-System space, and had spent the last couple of days flying around gods know where looking for where he was supposed to be going. This would have been bad enough under normal circumstances, but he had suffered the added misfortune of stumbling into the middle of some nasty little local conflict between a heavy-handed mining corporation and their workers, who were apparently in uprising, and had thus been given the third degree by some extremely jumpy security patrol leader whose little patch of space (some backwater, third- rate gas refinery, from what he had seen during the fly-past) Cirran had flown into looking to get back to the main routes. It hadn't helped that he was flying the 'Hope', a civilian ship obviously refitted for combat, and looking at the moment so beaten up it was as if she had just finished going one-on-one with the Executor.

After several unsuccessful attempts at convincing the wing leader that he was not in fact a disgruntled miner hell-bent on wreaking revenge for the death of his comrades on Murus 4, wherever that was, Cirran had been forced to use his ion cannons to leave a couple of the corporate ships dead in space, the resulting skirmish adding to the 'Hope's repair list, and then bug out and run away from the quadrant like a frightened tauntaun. Luckily, as a former Sector Force pilot, he had quite a bit of experience in doing just that, but by the time he had got his bearings again he was once more off track, and wasn't sure if this was the end of his journey. Still, as he had been properly lost, he was hard to follow, and Durga would only know where he was headed if Lorvo had talked, which probably wouldn't have been beneficial to her, as undoubtedly Durga would want to ask some pressing questions about why Cirran had been allowed to leave in such an unscorched state.

Of course, I could have saved myself a lot of this time and trouble by just shooting her, he thought to himself, irritably scratching a well-stubbled chin. I really must get over my unreasonable aversion to cold-blooded murder.

As Cirran sarcastically admonished himself, his computer told him, much to his surprise, that this time he had come out where he was supposed to. Somewhere ahead of him was the Drogen Shipyards, gateway to the greater Tae'Remok system. He took a heading towards the station, but was only going in for a look. Cirran had spent some time on research during the parts of his journey where he hadn't been busy throwing the 'Hope' wide of various incoming ordinance, and knew that the New Republic had a presence on the station; and so he had decided it was best avoided. Although the chances of him running into an old comrade were slim. As the Third Sector Force had operated well away from this area of space, there was a chance he would be recognised anyway, as one: he was listed AWOL and theoretically New Republic forces everywhere should be keeping an eye out for him, and two: he had featured in a couple of news (or rather, propaganda) holovids in his time with the Alliance.

For 'the good of morale' he had taken part in a couple of these Alliance network broadcasts, and the second time, after he had personally destroyed 16 TIE fighters in the Ord Trasi Raid, he'd had complete strangers from other postings coming up to congratulate him for the next two months. The broadcasts had also had the less desirable effect of making him something of a target among Imp pilots when they had intercepted the transmission (he had changed the custom paint job on his A-Wing pretty fast after that) and on one occasion an Imperial bounty hunter had come looking for him when he was on R & R - luckily a couple of Cirran's squad mates had been better with a blaster than both Cirran and more importantly the bounty hunter.

I got more than 16 a couple of other times, and 27 at Lianna, he thought, but for some reason I wasn't considered such model morale-boosting material after I got demoted for writing the Hawk's Cry off. I wonder why.

So there was still the chance that some vet would recognise him, and he couldn't find Jax from a holding cell. Besides, Jax was unlikely to be hanging out at any kind of military base, since both sides wanted to get their hands on him as well. Something in common with the bastard.

So although the 'Fool's Hope' was barely spaceworthy at the moment, the full repair facilities of the now visible base were tempting, and the New Republic didn't have a make on his ship for now as far as he knew, Cirran had decided to put down planetside and see what kind of repairs he could make down there. Better to keep a low profile to start with at--

Cirran's thoughts on exactly what the best way to slip unnoticed into Tae'Remok society was were rudely interrupted by an extremely loud bang, followed almost immediately by every warning light and alarm in his instrumentation that still functioned, and a couple that he had thought didn't, activating simultaneously. The 'Hope' began a rapid diagonal spin, and the cockpit door sealed behind him.

"What the hell?" Cirran said. He grabbed the stick and tried to drag the ship back onto the level, which he found right now was a lot like trying to wrestle a dewback. He threw his strength into the controls, his still healing arm burning as his exertions succeeded in controlling the spin somewhat. He looked at the station, which seemed to be growing to fill his canopy in a disconcertingly speedy fashion. Still grappling with the controls, he turned his attention to his readouts.

"Oh, shit," he said. The displays showed that he had blown an engine, which probably meant that behind him somewhere the interior of the ship was most likely on fire and/or the hull was breached. That in itself wouldn't have been so bad, except that the engine hadn't opted to go out as quietly as possible, but instead had taken some of the stabilisers with it to the big workshop in the sky, and set a couple of others off onto some kind of intense competition, the winner of which would be the first stabiliser to get to the ship to fly in one of about 4 opposite directions, or so it seemed. On the plus side, the engine failure hadn't simply blown the ship into pieces, meaning the fuel cells were still intact. Cirran, while appreciating the fact that for now he was still alive, nonetheless looked unfavourably on the circumstances.

"You bitch!" he yelled, decidedly unimpressed. "3 scraps in a week, emergency evasion, take-offs without proper start-up procedures, Gods know how many jumps, no time for even simple maintenance in any of that, and you quit on me now? Now, with a godsdamned couple of hours of trouble-free flying until we get where we're going? You, lousy, stinking, complaining whore of a ship!" Cirran stabbed fire control to active, and cut most of the power to his remaining engine, which slowed him down somewhat, but made the 'Hope's apparent desire to slew around in circles no easier to control, and only reduced the rate of the steady enlargement of the station in his view.

"Open channel!" he spat, still angry at the ship's betrayal. "Drogen Station, this is the YT-2000 approaching from space-side. I have had a catastrophic engine failure complicated by stabiliser loss. Have you got any tugs in the very-near vicinity?

The responding voice seemed entirely unconcerned. "Freighter captain, this is Drogen Control. I'm sorry, but status shows all our tugs berthed or on docking operations. We could have emergency response services to you within...6 minutes."

"Well, fantastic news there, Control, but in about 2 minutes you're going to be picking me out of your teeth," Cirran snapped. "YT-2000 to all area ships, can anyone render assistance?" Even as he said it though, and some nearby bulk freighters began to turn in his direction, Cirran saw his radar indicate that any ships that would be capable of helping him were too far away.

"Drogen Control, tell me that you've got some empty bays space-side, please? Or I'm afraid your nice shiny station may soon be in need of a paint job." Cirran fought the shuddering ship, heading the nose down towards the lower levels of the station where he could see the berths.

"Freighter captain, Bay 36 is currently open. Dampening fields and tractor beams are in operation. Clearance given, you may commence an emergency landing."

"Oh, may I, Control?" snorted Cirran. "Thank you so very much! You've made my day! I'll recommend you to my friends for all their emergency landings! And now may I suggest that if any more of your helpful staff are standing around scratching their arses in Bay 36 that they get the hell out of it, as I'm coming in hot!" So much for the low profile entrance, he thought.

There was a brief silence. "Understood," came the huffy reply. "Control out."

Cirran continued to fight the controls, locating Bay 36 on his readout schematic, and then visually; a small welcoming rectangle of light in the unyielding wall of solid metal ahead. His speed was slower, but still fast enough to make flying into the station an event that would resemble a fight between an ewok and a rancor. He wrenched the stick, straining to bring the ship towards the entrance. He knew that the tractor beams would make his job easier, but if he strayed too far wide of the right bay, the tractor beams would not be able to lock on and guide him in, and station would no doubt rather have him impact relatively harmlessly on the hull than plough into an occupied bay and cause untold internal damage. Better for them. Not better for Cirran.

The station loomed large before him. Bay 36 was on Cirran's left. Then further on his left. Then at the extreme left of his vision, as the 'Hope' had evidently decided that Bay 42 was much more its style, and was headed straight for it. Cirran threw his weight on the stick, sweat dripping down his brow and blood dripping from underneath the bandage on his arm. "Come on, you FAT COW!!!" he screamed, and the ship nudged to the left. The Bay 36 tractor beam station caught him at the edge of its range, and began to draw him in.

"Sithspit," said Cirran, looking up.

While the Bay 36 opening was more than large enough to admit the 'Hope' or even bigger ships, his approach to it was from an acute angle to the right of it, with not a lot of distance to go, and with Cirran unable to slow the ship down any more. The tractor beam crew were now obviously racing to swing the ship far enough to the left in time for it to miss the right-hand edge of the hangar. Cirran continued to fight the 'Hope's persistent interest in the distinctly closed doors of Bays 37 and upwards, and strained to hold the ship level for landing. He deployed the landing claws, which descended from the bottom of the ship. Slowly the ship moved left as the right-edge of the hangar loomed closer.

"Oh dear," murmured Cirran, as it became obvious that it was going to be very close indeed. He was hurled forward in his straps as the 'Hope' hit the outer edge of the dampening field being projected inside the hangar, slowing its momentum. With a final effort he heaved the front of the ship left, into the hangar entrance. Immediately the ship shuddered violently and the screech of metal on metal could be heard as the back-right quarter of the ship clipped the hangar doors.

The 'Fool's Hope' slewed around to the left through the dampening field as the landing gear scraped onto the hangar floor. Cirran was shuddered violently, and clamped his hands to his chair as the ship completed almost a 180 degree turn to face back out towards space again before bumping to a halt against the rear wall of the docking bay.

Cirran opened his eyes to see the view into space from inside the hangar, the wall on his left marked by huge scrapes and tears, from which a few sparks gently fell, but the status lights in the bay indicating that although the doors were not working, the hangar shield was still in place, and pressure and atmosphere in the bay was still maintained. There was the occasional clang of bits of hull plating falling to the floor. Behind him the cockpit door elected to spontaneously open itself. Cirran was not suddenly consumed by fire, which was nice. In fact when he risked a look behind him, down the corridor back to the gun turret, the 'Hope' looked as it always did, with whatever damage there was obviously being further back in the ship, and outside it. If it was if the ship was saying 'What were you worried about?'

Cirran took a deep breath as he noticed the hurried arrival of emergency crews through the side entrance to the bay. With them were a heavily armed security team. He sighed, leaned forward, and patted the ship's console.

"Let's never fight again," he said.

---

"Family Dinner, Part 1"
By: Maeren Shivral
Kaysa Zenarr
Merrick Braston
Keeve Shivral [NPC+]
Moril Astren [NPC+]
Saris [NPC+]
Zale Tregat
Kimara [NPC+]

Location: Zenarr-Tregat Residence, New Plouton
Date: Lythe 21, 4 ABY

***

"Hello in there," Maeren Shivral cooed. "How are you doing? Are you comfortable? It's almost time to come out soon. We have lots of surprises for you when you come out, you know."

"Shiv," Merrick said with a rolling of his eyes, "how long are you going to sit there and talk to Kaysa's belly button?"

Shiv looked up, then at Kaysa. "I'm just talking to him. Or her. I'm sure it's very lonely in there. I know I'd want a friend."

"He or she has a friend," Kaysa assured her. "Many friends, so careful not to smother him." She noted Merrick's raised eyebrow and chuckled. "Or her."

"I'm not smothering," Shiv said. "I'm talking and singing." She glanced up at Kaysa and grinned. "And, you know you love it. You almost died yesterday when Keeve and I sang his little sibling a duet."

"From the pained expression on Keeve's face," Kaysa quipped, "I'd say he was far closer to death than me." Smiling fondly, she stroked Shiv's hair. "I'm feeling thirsty. Would you get me something while I talk to Merrick?"

"Oh, but I was just about to tell the story about how you and I met," Shiv said with a grin. She gave Kaysa a quick kiss, then hopped up and started off to retrieve something for Kaysa's thirst. "I'll be back really soon."

Merrick laughed and moved to sit next to Kaysa. "She's very excited about this."

"I'd gladly have her deliver it for me if I could," she answered, and leaned into Merrick as his arm slipped around her shoulders. "Are you excited about this, too?" she whispered.

He kissed her neck, then her lips. "I know it's not mine," he said, "but in a way it sort of is. We're all a family, so even if I'm not the biological father, I'll still be a father. Yes, I'm very excited, Kaysa. How could I not be?"

She shrugged. "You hate Zale, don't you?"

"Don't think it's really hate now," Merrick said. "If it ever really was. I was angry, and... I don't know what he was trying to do or why he did what he did. He's still a good person at heart, even if he had a few bad moments. I don't want to hate him, but I still need time. It's hard to forget what he did...what he and his brothers did. At least Zale wasn't working with them though. He was working against them as much as I was...but it was hard. Especially with Nieme and Dani there. They could pretty much make us do whatever they wanted."

"Then" --she smiled hopefully at him-- "can he come to dinner tonight? He just wants to talk - that's all!"

Merrick chuckled. "Yes, I think that will be alright. I think starting to talk will be good for all of us."

"He almost died, you know," she added to inspire pity. "You should be almost nice to him when he arrives."

"I know," Merrick said then laughed. "And, I promise to be nice. I've been holding a grudge. As long as he can be nice, and he keeps his pants closed, I'd like to get back to being a family and healing."

Kaysa grinned brightly and quickly kissed Merrick's cheek. "Just in case...I love you, Braston."

"And, I love you too, Zenarr-Tregat-Braston," Merrick said and brushed his lips against hers. "I bet you don't want both me and Shiv singing to your belly, don't you?"

She frowned thoughtfully, then affected a weary sigh. "Well...if you must..." And readily folded her shirt hem away from her abdomen. "Sing away," she whispered.

There was a squeal from behind the doorway, and Shiv rushed in with a tall glass of beebleberry iced tea. "I wasn't listening," she said quickly as both Kaysa and Merrick looked at her. "Honest."

"So the squeal was an expression of excitement for managing to pour my drink without spilling?" Kaysa smiled skeptically at Shiv.

Shiv glanced between the two of them, and grinned. "Of course," she said, trying to take on an air of nonchalance. "You would be surprised at how easy it is to spill a drink. Especially with beebleberries in it."

Laughing softly, Kaysa patted the empty sofa cushion beside her. "You and Merrick can sing together, then."

Shiv sat down carefully and handed Kaysa her drink. "Do you have any requests?"

She sipped at the fruity liquid pensively, then smiled over the brim of her glass. "Something...soothing. Which means" --she glared playfully at Shiv-- "don't get carried away."

"Never," Shiv said with a grin. With that, she started a slow, soothing song. A moment later, Merrick came in on the harmony, their voices blending perfectly. As they sang together, Shiv slid closer to Kaysa. Merrick did the same from the other side, but not enough to crowd her.

Sighing tranquilly, Kaysa nestled her head into Merrick's shoulder and idly stroked Shiv's thigh with her free hand. She certainly enjoyed being the focus of everyone's attentions. And now, there was hope that Zale could eventually join them again, and include his voice in the chorus soon enough.

"Oh, not again," came a grumble from the doorway. Keeve was leaning against the opening, arms crossed over his chest and lips pursed. "Are you going to do this everyday?"

Shiv turned to Keeve and laughed. "Oh come on, it's good. And, it's good for the baby. You'll see. She'll come out singing and dancing. Well, maybe eventually. But it's fun and it's a bonding experience. You should join us, and you don't even have to sing. Actually, it'd be better if you don't." She flashed him a teasing grin.

"Hey!" he complained indignantly. "I sing well enough. I taught that droid, Elf, to sing a whole tune. You remember that?"

Shiv grinned, then sighed. "I miss Lerrah," she said. "I hope she's doing alright. And, Elf too. I've never really thought much of droids, but I think he was the cutest I've ever seen."

"We could always name the baby after him," Keeve suggested while strolling into the room. "Elf, Jr. How's that?"

"There is no way," Kaysa told him emphatically.

He sank down into the vacant armchair, appearing quite distraught. "And why not! It's a great name."

Shiv laughed, fighting the urge to squeal with delight as she had earlier. "It's a cute name!"

Merrick raised an eyebrow. "It is a cute name, but...I don't know..."

"How about," Kaysa interjected, "we wait a while, hm? We'll keep it as one possibility."

Keeve grinned crookedly. "If you do...then you're crazier than I know you are."

Kaysa chuckled and poked her tongue out at Keeve.

"How about...Moril," Shiv suggested.

"Moril?" Keeve echoed with a grimace. "And why would we want to name him that?"

"It's a nice name for a nice man with a big heart, Mr. Snarlypants," Shiv said with a grin, and stuck her tongue out at Keeve. "Since you don't like it, I think we should name the baby Maeren."

"Or Kimara," Keeve shot back with a challenging smile.

"Now, now," Kaysa chided, "behave. We'll choose a name when it's time. Besides, we need Zale here to help pick one, right?"

"Oh, he'll just want to name the baby Zale," Shiv said with a grin. "If it's a girl, I think she should be Zari."

"Or perhaps," Kaysa said slowly, "we should consider something that isn't already the name of a close friend or relative, hm?"

Shiv giggled and slipped her hand into Kaysa's. "But those are the best names of all."

"Yes, Shiv," Keeve answered with a roll of his eyes, "but she wants to call her child something that won't turn twenty heads."

"Well, I guess we'll just have to wait and think of something. In the meantime, I need to write another belly song. How long until you're due, Kaysa? I don't want to take too long."

As Kaysa giggled, Keeve groaned and muttered a brief, quelling prayer to the gods to ensure his wife became no more of an oddity than she already was. Though, admittedly, he couldn't help loving her more for it.

Kaysa proceeded to answer, but her reply transformed into an excited gasp as the doorchime sounded. "It's Zale...it must be Zale! Oh, that man," she fretted, trying to gracefully rise from the couch, "he's early."

It was Shiv's turn to giggle again. "It just shows how much he loves you," she said. "He couldn't stay away so he had to show up early."

Merrick exchanged a look with Keeve. "I'm going to go check on food preparations. I'll be back in just a few minutes." He caught the glance Kaysa gave him. "I'm alright. I really do want to check on food preparations. Go meet him, Kaysa. I'm sure he's excited to see you."

With a heave, Merrick had her upright. She embraced him tenderly and kissed his cheek to allay any tension. "Things'll be right again," she whispered.

"I know they will," Merrick whispered back and gave her a kiss to the cheek. "I'll be back out in a little bit. I have a special meal planned, so this is a good night to patch things up with Zale."

"I hope Cadwin feels the same." She smiled brilliantly for him, then turned and hurried for the door as the fourth chime sounded. Her arms cradled her stomach to support the bulk, but one shot out when she reached the door to activate it. When Zale appeared on the other side, with Moril and Saris standing behind, Kaysa laughed boisterously and pulled him roughly into an embrace.

Zale couldn't help joining into the merriment with some laughter of his own. "Wow," he said, "if I thought I'd get this kind of welcome, I'd have come over sooner." He gave her a kiss and held her close. "I missed you," he added in a whisper.

"You'd better have," she warned. She smiled past him at Moril and Saris, waving them inside. "Dinner's not ready...but we can have drinks." After another brief kiss, Kaysa moved aside and allowed them passage. "We were discussing baby names," she mentioned to them as they filed in.

"Oh really," Moril said with a laugh. "So, which is the current winning vote?"

"And how many votes has Maeren cast?" Zale added as he slipped an arm around Kaysa.

She smiled. "All of them. And your name actually came up, Moril...for a boy...I hope, but we never do know what Shiv is thinking."

Moril laughed. "Well, I would hope so. Though, I've heard Morile is the feminine version of my name. Though, I think there are plenty of more interesting and appropriate names for your baby."

Saris laughed and kissed his cheek. "He's so modest," she said. "Keeve is very good with selecting names. I think he will be very helpful choosing."

Kaysa snorted. "I doubt we're talking of the same Keeve...."

"I heard my name," the subject of their conversation accused as they stepped into the living area.

"Hi, Keeve," Saris said, her smile brightening when she saw Keeve. "I was telling the others how helpful you were in helping Kimara and I choose our names."

He grinned and waved dismissively. "Those were easy. They just...fit."

"But, how did you know they just fit," Saris asked. "I'm sure you'll be able to think of names that just fit Kaysa's baby too. I think you have a gift."

Moril chuckled. "Saris believes everyone has a gift."

"Everyone does." She glanced at Moril and blushed. "I happen to like your gift."

"Oh none of that," Shiv said, giving them both a playfully admonishing look. "If there's to be any of that, we're going to have to ask you to find a vacant room. No corrupting the baby before she's even out of the womb."

"No corrupting the clones," Keeve corrected as he gently tweaked his wife's nose.

She slipped her arms around him. "Oh? But, I'm perfectly corruptible," she cooed. "But, you'll have to corrupt me later, Mr. Shivral."

"They never stop, do they?" Zale asked. He turned his attention to Kaysa's belly, his hand carefully and gently caressing the swollen abdomen where their child was. "How are you doing? Do you need anything?"

"Everything's fine," she assured him, slipping her hand atop his. "Well...there's Merrick...but you can get to that once you start helping him cook." Kaysa wagged her eyebrows at him, then nodded her head towards the kitchen.

Zale laughed. "Alright," he said. "Though, they do keep knives in the kitchen. If you hear me yelling..." With that, he gave her a kiss then disappeared off toward the kitchen.

"They're not going to fight, are they," Maeren asked. "Or have sex? Or have sex while fighting? They are just going to cook, right?"

"Maeren," Keeve snapped. Covering her mouth with his hand, he steered them away into the living room once again.

"They'll be fine," Kaysa told them all. "Just...have some faith, that's all."

"I know," Shiv said with a smile. "I think they both want this to work, and they don't want to cause any trouble. Merrick's been doing a lot of composing, and I think it's helping him get through this. We were working on a song together today. It's so pretty. He did most of the work. I helped with a few of the lyrics and a little on the melody, but...you'll have to hear it."

"Maybe after dinner," Kaysa suggested. "Or perhaps" --she smiled slyly at the small group-- "while you all set the table."

"Definitely after dinner," Shiv said.

"After dinner sounds perfect," Saris added.

"Sounds like someone's trying to get out of work," came a voice from the other end of the room. Cadwin walked in with a grin. "Well, I've got that comm unit fixed as good as new. There shouldn't be any more problems with it. Hello, Saris, Moril."

Saris grinned. "Hello, Mr. Cadwin."

Moril chuckled. "Sounds like you're making yourself useful around here."

"I have to," Cadwin said. "With all of Kaysa's lovers and suitors, I have to do something to keep myself noticed." He gave Kaysa a playful wink.

"There's room enough for everyone," she said admonishingly, and kissed him lightly as he walked into her arms. "Even those lacking in special talents." Kaysa chuckled at his wounded expression.

"You know I have a very nice talent," Cadwin said. "If I didn't, we wouldn't have our miraculously twenty year old son and his adorable wife...who's also your lover."

"Maybe I was drunk," she quipped.

"No, my love, that was the night we met," Cadwin said. "Then you realized you were stuck with me, so we stayed together."

"And then you dumped me," Kaysa pointed out, smiling accusingly.

"And then I popped out and on, and on, and on..." Keeve sighed sharply and flopped onto the sofa. "Do we have to reminisce everytime we have dinners like these? I really am not interested in going through the details of my conception."

"I'm quite partial to the events leading right up to your conception," Cadwin said with a grin.

Keeve groaned as Kaysa and Cadwin nuzzled, and pressed a pillow into his face to blot out the sickening display. "Just tell me when dinner's ready," he mumbled.

"What's the matter, Keeve?" came a voice from the entryway. Kimara stood there. Her hair was up and she was wearing a long dress with a slit up to her hip on one side. It appeared that she'd applied some sort of cosmetics to her face, accentuating her natural beauty.

"What's the matter?" came his muffled echo. "The matter is--" His jaw hung open in mid-sentence as the pillow came away and revealed the dazzling nymph in the doorway. A dumbfounded smile curled his parted lips, and his wide eyes gawked at Kimara's flattering figure. He frowned, then, and shot a curious look at her. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To the dining room," Kim said with a grin. "But, I just thought it'd be nice to look nice for a change. I usually just wear plain clothes, so I decided it was time to dress up."

Keeve nodded skeptically, then sighed and shrugged as he pushed off the couch. "Well, we'd better prepare the table, then...before Kaysa and Cadwin decide to use it for another purpose," he warned and trudged out of the room, gesturing for Kim to follow.

Kimara quickly followed after him, slipping a hand into his when she reached his side. "I think you don't like it when they're all gushy. Do you mind when we are though?"

"We're not gushy," he insisted, and withdrew her hand from his to prove his point.

"Aren't we?" Kim asked. "Well, you and Maeren are. And, I think you want to be with me too."

"You're fun," he allowed, "and you look great in a dress." Keeve smiled approvingly at the thin garment attractively following her every curve. "But," he added, "I'm married...and it seems too fast, doesn't it?"

"Not really," Kimara said with a smile. "How long did you know Maeren before the two of you got married?"

He cleared his throat awkwardly, and muttered, "Maybe three months...but that's different! I'm married now and I shouldn't even be considering other women. Don't you get it?"

"I get it," Kimara said sadly. "I should probably go up and change. I'm overdressed."

Keeve growled irritably, and grasped Kim's hand again only to jerk her around towards him. "Why change?" he asked. "You look great."

"Because I dressed up for you, Keeve," she said softly. "And, because...because you shouldn't be considering other women."

He snorted. "Like you care about that, Kim. You'd do anything to catch my eye." Her entire demeanour became completely dejected; Keeve's agitation quickly dissipated in the face of it. Sighing, he cupped her cheek, then dropped his hand down to her chest where he idly fingered the pendant around her neck. "It looks good on you. I guess I'm good at selecting jewellery."

"You are," she said, her voice a mere whisper. "And, I do care. I want your attention, but you love her, and there's no room for me. I just...I just wish there was a way."

"I told you, Kim, let's just...take things as they come and not force anything." He smiled and tapped the tip of her nose playfully to encourage a smile. "We're together now, aren't we? Do we really need anything else for the time being?"

Kimara smiled. "A kiss would be nice," she said, then looked away shyly.

"I bet." He smirked and offered Kim a chaste, short kiss to her cheek. Pulling back, he cleared his throat and waved a hand towards the dinner table. "Shall we, then?"

"You are wicked," Kim said with a laugh, then kissed his cheek. With that, she sauntered ahead of him, making sure to give her hips a little extra sway for him. "Coming, Keeve?"

He grimaced and groaned inwardly. "I probably shouldn't," he answered, but followed anyway.

---

"Family Dinner, Part 2"
By: Maeren Shivral
Kaysa Zenarr
Merrick Braston
Keeve Shivral [NPC+]
Moril Astren [NPC+]
Saris [NPC+]
Zale Tregat
Kimara [NPC+]

Location: Zenarr-Tregat Residence, New Plouton
Date: Lythe 21, 4 ABY

***

"How are you holding up?"

As he stood before the refrigeration unit, Merrick glanced back at the tall figure standing in the door. There was a twinge of...something. It wasn't fear or anger. He couldn't put his finger on it, but for a brief moment he wanted to be in a different room. But the feeling passed. His eyes caught Zale's, and he regretted the feeling. They had been friends, but that had been strained and broken. Now, he could see the loss reflected in Zale's eyes. As much as he wanted to be angry with Zale, he knew he couldn't really. They're shared so much, come through so much...he couldn't truly hate.

"I'm doing better," he said. "How are you holding up? That was a close shot."

"Much closer than I care to think about. Still haven't found whoever it was, and don't know who sent him."

"Moril have you guarded around the clock?" Merrick moved a tray from one counter to the large table set in the middle of the room. Zale moved to help.

"I'm better protected than the president of the New Republic," Zale said with a laugh. "I've said it already, and I'll say it another hundred, thousand, million times, Merrick, but I am truly sorry for what I put you through. I wasn't thinking...I...I can't explain my actions...and I think it would only be making excuses."

"I know," Merrick answered. "It was a difficult time, for both of us. We both did things we regret. We're past it now. I'd like to heal and move on. I don't know if the images will ever truly leave...but..."

Zale nodded. "The girl?"

Merrick nodded, a pained look on his face.

"You care about her, don't you?"

"Very much. More than I should. I just...I hope she's alright. I don't know if I'll ever see her again, or what will happen if I do. She got inside me and made me care. I don't think it was that hard. She was a gentle, kind person in a dark time. It's not like with Kaysa or Maeren, but..."

"You feel protective, you want to make sure she's alright. You want to be her guardian."

"Yes," Merrick breathed.

"You love her."

"I'd be lying if I said no. But it's different."

Zale was silent for a moment before saying. "You haven't told Kaysa yet, have you?"

"I wouldn't know how, not without giving the wrong impression. I do care for Tala. It's not the same as with them, with Kaysa and Shiv..."

"I think soon, you, Kaysa and I need to sit down and talk. She needs to know what happened in there, and that whatever kinds of connections we made...that they aren't a threat to what we have here. We all need to heal, and we all need to continue on."

Merrick nodded, then grinned. "I didn't anticipate having this sort of conversation with you," he said. "It's good to be moving back toward friends again."

"It is," Zale said. "I know I'm far from perfect, and I know I haven't been the best of friends, husbands, or...or people. I plan to change that."

With a laugh, Merrick clapped Zale on the shoulder. "Don't change too much," he said. "I'm the nice innocent one. You're the scoundrel. I don't think Kaysa would be happy if she lost her scoundrel. One of these nights, you and I, and Cadwin need to go out and just talk...and drink. We're all going to be a family, so we need to figure out how we're going to work this. It wasn't easy with two sharing one woman, but now we have three."

"It's going to be interesting," Zale said with a knowing nod. "Come on, let's get this food out...and then we can see how interesting dinner will be."

***

"It was really cute," Saris was saying as they ate their meal. "This big guy, he had to be at least two meters tall, practically started crying when Moril set him straight. And, Moril was so calm, but firm. I've never seen such a big guy just crumble like that before."

"He is pretty scary when he's angry," Keeve allowed with a knowing wink for Moril.

"He looked at him with this look like...it was almost like durasteel. I think he could intimidate anyone...well, except for Zale. And, maybe Keeve. But he has to be in the mood for it. Normally he's just really gentle and sweet."

"Who is?" Keeve exclaimed indignantly. "I am not sweet. I'm brooding and...I've got edge!"

"I'm sure you do, dear," Kaysa told him soothingly.

"You're very sweet," Saris said. "Most of the time, except when you're grumpy. But when you're grumpy, you're cute."

Kimara nodded her agreement. "You are; it's true."

Maeren giggled. "I think you're outnumbered, my love."

"I wouldn't be if I had clones," he pouted, pushing the food around in his plate aggressively.

Shiv leaned close and kissed his cheek. "We only tease because we love you," she said.

Kim smiled at him and looked away quickly.

"You should see how much I tease Moril," Saris added.

"She does," Moril said. "Worse than you get."

"And what has she been teasing you about lately, Moril?" Kaysa probed with a grin. "Any thoughts on moving in together yet? You know she's miserable coming back here where you're not."

"We've talked about it," Moril said. "It's still something we're thinking about, so we'll see. I think I'd need to get a bigger place for both of us. And, as for your other question, I don't think that's suitable dinner time conversation."

There was a light rippling of laughter from the gathering; Kaysa absolutely beamed. "Finally," she sighed. "We're all together...all happy..." Her pointed gaze fixed on Zale and Merrick. "Right?"

Zale grinned, glanced at Merrick. The both nodded to each other and turned to Kaysa. "Right," they said in unison.

"Oh, they're as cute as Keeve," Kimara said.

He sucked in abruptly to protest, but let out his breath resignedly and muttered, "Just like me...."

Shiv leaned close and kissed his cheek. "That's not a bad thing, you know," she said. "I happen to like cute."

"I should hope so...you married me after all." With a returning smile, he reached beneath the table and covered Shiv's knee with his hand. "You can reassure me later, hm?"

"I would be more than happy to," Shiv said as her brown eyes held his, "my husband."

"Okay," Kaysa chided, "enough of that. Dessert is a long ways away yet!"

Keeve grinned facetiously. "Yes, Mother." Kaysa scowled teasingly.

Shiv glanced around the table, and finally her gaze settled on Kaysa. "When you have your baby," she said. "What's going to happen with Zenarr Inc?"

"I've thought about that," Kaysa said, pushing her knife through the breast of fowl. "Actually, Cadwin and I have talked about it. He'll be running it until I'm able to."

"Him?" Keeve sputtered. "What do you mean!"

"Keeve," Kaysa admonished gently.

"No!" he exclaimed. "He'll probably run it into the ground, then flee with your money!"

Cadwin sighed and looked away. He wanted to speak, to defend himself. But in the end, he knew nothing he could say would change Keeve's mind. The only way to prove his worth was to do the work.

"Keeve," Shiv whispered. "He is a good man. I know what you accuse him of, but...but he's not that way any longer. Give him a chance."

"I won't until he proves to me he's not a worthless bastard," he whispered back. Rising, Keeve threw down his napkin and stared down Cadwin. "If he's going to be running it...so am I."

"Keeve...do you even know how?" Kaysa asked gently.

"Of course! I'm smart enough." He stood taller. "I can do it."

Kaysa sighed, witnessing once again the downside to genetic inheritance: Keeve had her looks, but had also received her stubborn character. "Okay," she relented finally. "Keeve...you can assist Cadwin. But," she warned, "no fighting!"

Keeve grinned triumphantly and took his seat once more. He saluted Cadwin. "Nice to meet you, boss."

Cadwin sighed and looked from Keeve to Kaysa. "You'd just better make sure you behave, or I'll see that your wife spanks you."

Keeve glowered at her before Shiv heeded the urge to express how eager she would be to do just that. Kaysa grinned broadly. "Well, looks like that's settled. Now, dessert?"

"Dessert sounds wonderful," Zale said.

"I'll go get it," Merrick added.

Zale stood from his chair. "I'll help."

Kimara looked at the two hastily escaping to get the dessert and giggled.

Keeve, mood still soured, frowned at her. "What's so funny?"

"They don't like the arguing," Kim said with a smile. "Oh, Keeve, it's alright. Smile and be happy here with your family."

He did just that, albeit with little mirth, and shoved a forkful of lettuce into his mouth. Happy indeed....

As Zale and Merrick returned with two trays of the decadent, chocolate desserts, all those at the table cooed and exclaimed. Kaysa asked for two helpings.

"Eating for two?" Shiv asked with a playful grin. "Well, I think you deserve it, and so do I. I have been singing all those songs for the baby, and that's exhausting work."

"Save some energy for when you carry ours," Keeve advised, and his smile was hopeful.

"Oh," Shiv said with a grin for him, "I have plenty of energy for that too. But, some extra chocolate would help."

His eyes lit up and he briskly waved Merrick over. Zale placed two bowls of the mousse down in front of Kaysa, who smiled up at him tenderly, then proceeded to heartily spoon the chocolate confection into her greedy mouth. Keeve snickered at the sight, nearly spitting out a spray of chocolate.

Shiv giggled. "Careful, my love," she said. "You're liable to tarnish your dour and sullen image if you keep it up."

Keeve coughed to clear his throat. "But look at her! I wonder if she's really pregnant, or just overdoing it on the dessert."

"Silly husband," Shiv said and kissed his cheek. "It's chocolate and she's a woman. Better than sex, and you know how much she loves her sex." She pointed to the bowls of chocolate bliss. "Make sense?"

"Yes," he answered sullenly, "but that's something a son should never know about his mother. Thank you, my dear wife."

"Oh, there's that sullen face," she said, then scooped up some of the chocolate for him. "Here...for our little comparison later..."

He chuckled and took the spoon into his mouth. He heard three identical giggles coming from Shiv, Saris, and Kimara. Frowning around the utensil in his mouth, he knew he wouldn't escape even a moment of ridicule with those three watching. He smiled as the spoon slid away clean. It would be a lot lonelier around without them.

---

"Painful Awakenings"
by Rylaa Lyssander - Criminal
Royat Paynk - NPC
Bhen Donna - NPC

Location: Drogen Shipyards, level unknown
Date: Lythe 21, 4 ABY

***

Two dozen Herglics. That was how many were tap dancing inside his head. Maybe three dozen. Rylaa didn't care, he just wanted them to stop. A sharp odor aroused the sleeping criminal from his almost comfortable rest. The light burned as he opened his eyes. He tried to raise an arm in order to shield his face from the blinding death rays above, but he could not move them.

Oh great, what happened? Was I in a speeder accident? I don't remember driving home.... I don't remember having a home to drive to! Why can't I feel my arms? Oh crap, where are my arms! Oh wait... there's one. Rylaa's right arm had lifted into view. Ok. Well, that certainly explains that. Now for the left one.

He concentrated and moving his left arm but succeeded only in eliciting a grunt from whoever was laying to his left. This clearly surprised him as his eyes shot open and he became fully awake. It came to him, slowly, the reason he could not move or feel his left arm, someone, or something, was sleeping on it. As awareness washed over Rylaa, he began to notice everything about the small room that he was in. He was in a bed, wearing only clean white sheets. The room he was in was spartan and whitewashed. No pictures decorated the walls, no posters or paintings anywhere. The only spot of color was the holovid stand in one corner.

He turned his head slowly, hoping to not disturbed whoever it was next to him before he could figure out who and what it was. He'd made mistakes in the past, and he did not want to add to that list. The blue skin caught his eye first, the lekku second. Oh yeah, the cute Twi'lek girl from the other side of the bar!

A touchy situation indeed. He was laying next to a woman whose name he did not know, whom he didn't fully remember meeting, and who lived droyk knows where. Ok man, this is how it's gonna go. You're going to get your fragging arm out from underneath that girl. Next, you are going to get your clothes on slowly and quietly. Then get the hell out of here. Sound like a good plan? Yeah.

Rylaa began to shift slowly sideways, working his arm out a little at a time. It took a good ten minutes, but he eventually managed to free it. The bed was much higher than he had anticipated and Rylaa hit the clothing covered floor with a loud thunk. There was a groan from the bed and the sounds of shifting. He froze, not even daring to breathe, but nothing more came from the sleeping girl.

That was just was too close, he thought. I hope she doesn't have an older, meaner brother. Or a younger meaner brother. Or anyone for that matter. His pants and shirt lay in a pile next to the door, a pair of battered flight boots next to them. Rylaa crawled over to his clothing and checked to make sure the last of his credit still there. Credit... credit...

Oh crap! Credit! Where the hell is he? And my pack with all my gear! Frack! Grunting and flopping around, he eventually managed to maneuver hits pants and shirt on. He decided against the boots until he got outside, it would be safer and make less sound. So, partially dressed and with his boots in hand, he quietly opened the door and slipped out.

The woman he was with apparently lived alone, fortunately, as he was in one of the corridors of the space station. Sentients walked both ways and several groups were in discussing with one another. The air here was almost stale, and left a dirty taste in his mouth. He had to find his droid and his gear, then find a place to stay. Then he had to study the station and find out if it was even feasible of him to set up a smuggling ring here. He doubted it, there were a number of New Republic ships in-system while coming through, and the security here appeared to be top notch. If there was no way, he would have to avoid Lani like the plague, or try to convince her of something else.

They had worked well together, his brain and her fiery spirit. They had kept each other out of trouble more than enough times. Ahhhh... pleasant memories. Running from imps. Running from rebs. Running from pirates. Running from Hutts. Rylaa realized he had done a lot of running in his life, and it was probably time to stop.

Yeah, that was a good idea. Crime was fun, but what if he got a real job. He walked down the corridor as he pondered the bare metal cold under his feet. If he got a job, that would mean hard work. That wasn't fun, not fun at all. Alright, but what if he found something fun to do, like ring announcer at a dual ring? Or a bookie. Was gambling even legal on board? He'd have to check that out - some administrators and captains were weird about gambling, saying it wasn't right and a bad thing.

Rylaa always had thought that there was something totally wrong with their way of thought. I mean, how could gambling be bad? It was an excellent way of making money. Oh sure, the poor marks that you swipe it from lost it, but if they were dumb enough to walk into the place, then they might as well have worn a huge sign around their necks proudly proclaiming that they were giving money away.

That thought brought a humorous image into his head and he barked a short laugh, startling the Gorothian woman and her two... spawn? Offspring? Yeah, that sounded more professional. He would have to be professional if he was going to go legit.

As Rylaa turned the corner, a beam of light caught his eye. The Herglics returned, and they brought their friends to help out. All thoughts of legitimacy were dashed from his skull by the great tap-dancing behemoths whirling around in their frenzied entertainment. Damn hangover, perfect fardling time to come back. He groaned involuntarily and raised a hand to his face to keep it from sliding off. Then an idea came to him. What was the best way to cure a hangover? Drink more! But... that was not what he needed at the moment. His communicator blipped.

"Whoever you are talk slow and quietly. I have a hangover straight from the deepest pits of Kessel."

"Mr. Lyssander? My name is Royat Paynk, I represent someone who would very much like to talk to you about your unique talents." The voice on the other end was smooth and calm. The image that came to Rylaa's mind was of a yellow skinned Twi'lek with ambitions.

"That's nice. Does this employer of yours have a name or does he wish to remain incognito? If that's the case then I doubt I will agree to meet with him. I've had some bad run ins before. You know how it goes."

"Of course, Mr. Lyssander, of course. The man who wishes to meet with you is named Bhen Donna. He asks that you meet with him in the Screaming Gundark at noon."

"How about you give me a low down of what is supposed to happen?" Rylaa sat down on the deck in order to pull on his boots on. "Like I said, I've had some bad run ins in the past and I would like to avoid having more. Meeting your boss, who is an unknown to me, for a job I know nothing about? Maybe I'll just slide."

"The job is a simple delivery offplanet, Mr. Lyssander. And we are willing 5,000 credits simply for listening to our proposal."

Five Thousand credits!? Just for listening to their spiel? It's a setup, it has to be! Its just to good to be true!

"Alright, I'll meet him. The Screaming Gundark at noon right? I'll be there." Money talks. Big money talks big.

"Excellent. Mr. Donna will be expecting you."

"And my money?" This is going to get me into trouble, I know it.

"Your money will be waiting for you. Hard cred of course."

"You better believe it it." Rylaa finished lacing his boots and stood up. The communicator in his hand went dead so he put it in one of the many pockets of his pants. Business over, pleasure not a possibility, now came personal. He had to find Credit and get his pack back. Without his clothing and his toys, he didn't stand a chance of getting this job. Especially since they had contacted him. That meant that not only did they have money to throw around, obvious from the five thousand cred bonus, but they must have done an extensive background check to find out about his "talents". It was an intriguing offer, and he probably would have went along with it without the cred, but the hard stuff did account for a lot.

Rylaa turned at one of the many intersections and found himself face to face with the turblift. Level 142 the sign read. Huh, well, best place to look is where I left him. He should be ok. He does, after all, have his own stunner.

He would have to hurry, he only had a couple of hours before his meeting. The turbolift doors opened and a couple people walked out. Rylaa got into the now empty lift and punched in the 204th floor. The doors closed with a floosh and a sharp piece of steel drew across his throat.

"Fancy meeting you here, boss," a raspy voice whispered into his ear.

---

"Thin Ice"
By: Cirran Tyris
Tasia Horough (NPC+)
Rilanna Kir
Lerrah Breijal (NPC+)

Location: Bay 36, Drogen Shipyards, Tae'Remok system, Outer Rim
Date: Lythe 21, 4ABY

***

Cirran's brain raced as he cut power to the ship's systems in descending order of 'most likely to explode soon'. Whichever way he looked at it, this was not very good. He hadn't had the money he needed to make repairs to his ship before this. Now he'd damaged his ship pretty severely in the process of crashing into a space station that served as a military base to a group of people that theoretically should be looking out for him so they could throw him into detention. Damn.

He considered his options. One: escape from the station. He'd heard the tale of Solo's escape from the Death Star of course, not from the man himself, but it had gone around the barracks and the wardrooms plenty of times; but as Cirran understood it, Solo had had the assistance of a Jedi Master, the legendary Skywalker siblings, a seven-foot Wookiee, and a ship that could actually fly in his escape, whereas at this point, Cirran would have to get out of the ship and hold off the security team with one hand while he physically pushed the 'Hope' across the deck into space, then get into the ship somehow without explosively decompressing, jump into the turret, and float slowly away while fighting the station's entire complement of fighters, until he could make a blind hyperspace jump...

I don't think it'll work, Cirran, he told himself. They've got tractor beams, remember? He smiled grimly to himself as he realised Plan A was again out the window, and it was once more time for good old Plan B: stick it out, brazen his way through and hope he could get away with it initially, and then work from there. There were a couple of points in his favour: one, the civilian authorities would not have a military deserter high on their list of known criminals, and what criminal activities he had committed in the recent months were low-profile and far away.

Apart from the little matter of the New Republic personnel on the station, he was probably anonymous here as he had been anywhere else, and two, the Republic staff on the station probably were uninvolved with the day-to-day comings and goings of the station. Although they're bound to hear about this, at least in passing, he reminded himself. He would have to cross that bridge when he came to it.

At least the Imps aren't still running the place, he thought. While he may have done a little bit of smuggling and a little bit of no-casualty stealing from the Republic, the 'Fool's Hope' was certainly well known for its 'crimes' around what remained of the Empire. Cirran had continued to fly against it for pirates, corporations and newly independent governments in the past 7 months. Ha, I am such a whore, thought Cirran. Don't care who I fly for as long as I get to blast Imps.

His thoughts were interrupted by a voice on his comm system. "YT-2000, this is Flight Control. Does anyone on board need medical assistance?"

"It's just me, Control, and not unless you've got a treatment on board somewhere to get me back the 10 years I just aged," Cirran replied. "Thanks, though. Give my thanks to your tractor beam crew, and sorry about your hangar...still, er, you know, you've got plenty more like it I suppose."

Cirran could hear the amusement of the man on the other end of the channel as he replied, "Too true, Captain, too true, but I'm not the one you need to convince. Sit tight for a minute; we're securing the bay, and conducting a security scan of your vessel. Control out."

"Understood, Control," replied Cirran, trying to remember if he had anything illegal on board at the moment.

The cargo area was full of a lot of spare parts, mostly junk, and that was about it right now. His modified remotes were illegal just everywhere, but they wouldn't show up on a ship scan. Still, it wouldn't pay to go wandering onto the station with them clipped on his belt either. He got up from his chair and headed back into the ship, stowing his remaining one and a half remotes in one of a number of very small hidden compartments secreted about the ship, inherited features from its previous owner that had proved useful a couple of times before. This done, he went further back into the ship to assess the damage.

Remarkably, the interior of the ship seemed to have remained unbreached, either by the engine failure or the kiss the 'Hope' had given the station. As far as the engine went, that could probably mean only one thing, and as Cirran studied the engine mounts and the readouts that were still working, that was confirmed; a block somewhere in the engine cycle had caused a rather nasty charge build up which had led to an even nastier uncontrolled ionic discharge, flaming out the engine and scrambling a lot of the other nearby systems - such as the rear and starboard stabilisers. He was going to have to replace a lot of circuitry, if not the engine itself, although as engine failures went, you could tell it hadn't been a bad one, because there was still an engine room to stand in. He didn't really want to think about what the outside of the ship looked like about now, however.

The engine room comms panel beeped. Cirran manually activated it. "Freighter Captain, this is Control. D.A.R.T has confirmed the bay as secure. You may now exit your vessel. A reception committee is waiting; you'll be initially reporting to Chief Tasia Harough."

"Roger, Control," said Cirran. "Oh, and can you tell your D.A.R.T boys to stand clear of the ramp? The ship tends to regard the ramp hydraulics system as strictly optional."

"Got that, Captain. And good luck," the officer added with a slight snigger.

Cirran took a deep breath, and headed to the entrance of the ship, hitting the controls to lower the ramp. The 'Hope' decided its dignity had been damaged enough for one day, and the ramp lowered gently to the floor as it was designed to do.

Cirran looked down the ramp at the grim faces of the a number of the Damage Assessment and Response Team, all wearing full space suits, prepared for the event of sudden depressurisation, although they had now all taken their helmets off. He noted that Tasia seemed to be the attractive but extremely displeased looking woman at the rear, who wore no insignia of rank, unlike the others. She stood just behind the security team, who also wore spacesuits, but these featured a great deal more in-built weaponry than that of the D.A.R.T staff. Security had also set a heavy repeating blaster up on a tripod near the ramp base.

What are they expecting, Vader back from the dead and leading the 88th Stormtrooper legion? thought Cirran. Maybe my ship has more of a rep 'round these parts than I thought. He held his hands out to his sides, put a smile on his face, and walked down the ramp.

"Wait a minute," he said, affecting a sardonic air of confusion. "This isn't the Cloud City casino!"

"Then what the hells are you doing crashing through here?" Harough snapped, and pushed past the brawn to stomp up the ramp. "That was the worst bloody landing I've ever seen!" Her arms were thrown up vehemently. "You've no right piloting something like that." She stopped before him and fixed a fiery, penetrating brown gaze upon him. "Welcome to Drogen," she sneered.

Cirran met her penetrating gaze and mentally ruled out the use of the term 'sweetheart'. His smile faded. "Uh, thanks," he said. "I have to say though that I thought it wasn't such a bad landing given the fact I was missing an engine and most of my stabilisers. I'd like to have seen you make it. And while I'm at it, do you even have tugs in service on this crate? I may have, er, slightly scratched your docking bay a bit--" Here Cirran's tirade was interrupted by the sound of another large section of durasteel hull cladding peeling loose from the superstructure and clanging deafeningly to the hangar floor. "Er, yes, some slight damage there...but it would have been a damn sight worse if I had been a bulk freighter!" Yeah, one of those bulk freighters that goes in for a hot-dogging flyby, his brain reminded him. He had a suddenly sinking feeling he hadn't helped himself by going on the offensive.

Tasia's jaw clenched and her eyes narrowed menacingly. "You're paying for those damages," she told him through gritted teeth. "And you're personally helping with the repairs. Got it" --she jabbed a finger into his chest for emphasis-- "funnyman?"

Cirran involuntarily took a step backwards. This wasn't going well. He couldn't afford to pay to repair his own ship, let alone the side of a space station. That probably meant they would impound the 'Hope', if he was found culpable for the damages. Legally he might be in the right, but then legality sometimes didn't mean a lot in places like this, as a glance at the thick-set looking fellow behind the repeating blaster reminded him. And anyway, was he going to waltz into the New Republic office and demand justice? No, he had to try and bluster his way out of it.

"Look, Miss...Harough, was it they said? I've got no problem with helping you fix this mess. I know my way around a welding torch, and besides I don't think the old girl..." Cirran jerked his head back to indicate the ship behind him "...will be going anywhere in a hurry. But paying for it? You're lucky I don't sue this station for improper emergency preparations. After managing not to fly into a living module, or a flight deck with a shipment full of munitions in it, I thought you'd have awarded me my medal for heroism by now. I didn't crash in here on purpose. Take a look at my engine room!"

She snorted at that, and the onlookers behind chuckled. "You're going to ask Ms. Anoran to pay you for damaging her station? I'd really like to see that." Leaning in, she confided, "But I wouldn't advise it. No, I say you get your ass down into that bay and start retrieving shrapnel before she hears about this, or I won't be your only problem."

Cirran was taken aback somewhat by this change in tack. Still, he tried to keep sounding confident. "Yes, well, we'll see about that, although I wouldn't want to waste the administrator's time, or anything...so anyway, what now? Can we call off Boba Fett and his Mandalorians here?" he said, indicating the huge man behind the repeater, who scowled. Gods,I've never seen a spacesuit that big, he realised. No sudden moves, Cirran. "Are there some forms you would like me to fill out, Miss Harough?" he continued, "...or would you like to take me down to the mine and chain me to the rock face straight away?"

Tasia frowned incredulously. "What the hells are you yammering about? Did you hit your head in there?" She sighed impatiently and started down the ramp, just as the clatter of new armoured troops rushed through the bay doors. Tasia stopped, and grinned over her shoulder at Cirran. "Well, you've done it now...."

"I was being sarcastic..." started Cirran, and then to his great surprise noticed the additional troops entering the hangar. Since things had already moved past 'bad' to 'worse', it looked like the destination he was now on the way to was 'horrendous'. This is payback, he thought, ...karmic payback for the fact I survived the last week. It couldn't last. His only consolation was that they did not seem to be New Republic troops. He stared at Tasia in disbelief, and she flashed him an ironic smile. "What is...I mean..." he stammered. "Uh, sorry, but did I not make it clear that what I have crashed into your bay is a battered old freighter, and not in fact a Victory class Star Destroyer?"

"Oh, that doesn't matter," Tasia answered brightly. "The security teams are to investigate any suspicious activity on the station." She peered around him into the hatchway, and hmmed pensively. "Got any cargo in there?..."

At the head of the troops now entering the bay was Rilanna Kir. Her helmet was clipped to her belt and her dark hair was pulled back behind her head. Her battle armour looked almost new, but did show some signs of recent repair. She had two blasters strapped to her thighs and a blaster rifle strapped to her back. The armour itself appeared as if it probably held an array of other weapons as well. She took in the damage to the bay and to the ship that had caused it. She nodded to Tasia and took a couple steps forward. "Who's your friend, Tase? And, what possessed him to decide to rearrange the station's superstructure without asking permission first?"

"He's hardly a friend," she drawled. "Especially not when he's just doubled my work schedule. Didn't catch the name, but he thinks himself funny in a charming way." Tasia's frown indicated that she in no way agreed with his presumption.

"Lovely," Rilanna answered as she glanced over at their party crasher. "What's the assessment on damage?"

"Don't have exact numbers yet," came a voice from behind Rilanna, "but I'd say we'll be spending the better part of a week on it." Lerrah flashed a very telling grin up to Tasia. "And, it's going to be very tricky to keep the information from getting to the top."

"If we even want to," Tasia answered, grinning slyly. Motioning her eyes towards Cirran, she said, "Care to take charge, Captain?"

Lerrah grinned and stepped over closer to Tasia as Rilanna moved up toward Cirran. "Looks like you are a bit of a mess here... I'm Captain Rilanna Kir, in charge of station security and keeping the bays clear of those who would wish to disassemble them with their own ships. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you your name and what this little stunt was all about?"

Cirran surveyed the small army before him. A Hutt. It has to be a Hutt runs this place. Does it?

He was now in a very tricky position. If he gave his real name, he might be in jail before the end of the day. But then if they found out he was lying, he would definitely be in jail before the end of the day. The 'Fool's Hope' wasn't registered with any inter-system database, so he might be in luck there. He decided to go halfway. He took a look at the steely glance of Captain Kir. Although he stood quite a bit taller than her, he felt less than intimidating, and another glance at the collected weaponry in the room told him that perhaps, just maybe, it was time to back down a bit. He took a deep breath.

"My name is Tyris," he said. It was a common enough surname and hopefully it would do for now. "I can assure you this was not a stunt. I wasn't even intending to land here, I just came in for a look at the station, lost an engine and most of my stabilisers, and had to make a forced landing. I regret the damage caused. Now, I'm not sure what's going on here--" he gestured at the many armoured troops now in evidence "--but since you seem to be taking this matter a bit more seriously than I anticipated, perhaps I'll just abandon my plans to shoot my way out, very slowly give you my blaster, and then follow your instructions?" He eased his gun out of its holster extremely carefully, feeling both eyes and guns trained on him, and offered it handle first to Rilanna.

Rilanna accepted the blaster and slipped it into her belt. "So, how exactly did you manage to lose an engine and a stabilizer? While just coming in for a look? And, this--" she indicated her troops "--is because we had some Imperial trouble not too long ago, and it really wouldn't be too farfetched for Imperial loyalists to try to strike back...even this long after their loss of the station and the system. We had to make sure you weren't a terrorist. You seem harmless enough. So, what's your business in Tae'Remok?"

"You thought maybe I was an Imp?" Cirran tried to suppress a laugh at the thought and only half succeeded. "Ha...fair enough I suppose. Well, rest assured, I am indeed harmless enough, out of a cockpit anyway. I had an ionic feedback flameout and it was big enough to take out the nearby stabilisers, as Miss Harough here will see when she looks at my engine room. It's been something of a busy week, I've been throwing the ship around, and I hadn't had a chance to do a maintenance check. As to what I'm doing here ..." I'm hunting the man who had my parents murdered and kidnapped my sister, he thought, but right now it didn't seem like a prudent answer, "...I came looking for work as a pilot or mechanic, but I intended to be doing it planetside. Seems I'm stuck up here for a while though, because even if I'm not going to be in indebted servitude to you folks for the next 10 planetary cycles, right now I can't afford to fix my ship. I suppose we'll have to come to some sort of an arrangement. I'm definitely starting to regret my curiosity - although on the plus side, I seem to have made a lot of new friends." He gave a little wave to the giant behind the repeater, who continued to opt for 'scowling'. Cirran smiled in the man's direction.

"He's not half-Wookiee, is he?" he said to Rilanna under his breath.

"No, but he lives on a diet of hotshot pilots and mechanics who damage the station," Rilanna answered. "I can't really do much for hiring you on to help pay off the damages. That'd be between either Tasia or Administrator Anoran. Mrs. Anoran's tough, but she's a fair employer. And, you can't ask for a better supervisor than Tasia. Just ask Lerrah."

Cirran looked at the three women in front of him. Behind him, security lackeys had started going through his ship, rifling through his meagre belongings and stash of various useful parts. I've crashed into some kind of nest of Amazons, he thought. Maybe I was too quick to rule out the pushing the ship into space plan.

It was too late now, however. He turned to Tasia and tried a friendly grin. "No need to trouble your administrator with this petty squabble, I'm sure...so, Miss Harough, would you like to see my credentials? If you like I can keep my attempts to be charmingly funny to a bare minimum."

"I couldn't care less about your credentials," she answered bluntly. "I'm more interested in how good you are with a hydrospanner." The attractive brunette sashayed down the ramp, brushing past him to add, "You've got some hard work ahead of you, Mister."

Cirran took a glum look around the scarred docking bay, and then back at his poor pummelled ship, thinking of the mindless graft to doubt to come, and wondering if Durga the Hutt had really been such a bad boss in the end. He was only planning to kill me, after all, he thought.

He sighed, frowned, and turned to follow Harough out of the bay, passing by the scowling giant behind the tripod mounted blaster. To his surprise the man broke into a sharkish grin as he went by.

"Welcome aboard, you poor bastard," he said.

---

"Caught"
by Rylaa Lyssander - Criminal
Issnel Tilat - NPC
Lani Visip - NPC

Location: Drogen Shipyards, Turbolift
Date: Lythe 21, 4ABY

***

Adrenaline pumped through his body, the world around him seemed to slow down. Time compressing down to where seconds felt like hours. There was a stink in the air. A stink of fear and the foul breath of his assailant. This was not supposed to happen, he never got caught like this! Not Rylaa Lyssander, the man his enemies had called "Un-killable". He always had known in the past when a trap was set, or when something was very wrong. He'd managed to avoid everything that had ever been thrown at him.

What happened? Were his instincts failing him? Thoughts boiled through his head, each bubbling to the surface and vying for attention. His pulse quick and he took fast shallow breaths. He'd never been this close to death before and it was almost...exhilarating. The knife at his throat was humming faintly. Damn, figures it would be a vibroknife.

"It would seem," the voice rasped, "that I have caught myself a precious pig. One that will fetch a great price at the market." The voice chuckled evilly.

Rylaa's former lieutenant had placed a large bounty on his head, ranging in the millions. He wasn't sure exactly what it was. No one likes to know the price of their death after all. The Bounty Hunter's Guild had given up taking contracts out on Rylaa, they had lost too many hunters that way. Now only the freelancers tried to take it up. Maybe this one just got lucky.

"What do you want? I'm worth much more to you alive than dead." Bargaining was dangerous in this situation. A desperate freelancer might just decide to off him and collect the much smaller paycheck.

"You are going to come with me, quietly. Make any sudden moves and I press the blade into your flesh, slowly. A most painful way to die I am told." A hand reached from behind him and pressed a button on the turbolift control panel. A red scaled, clawed hand.

A Trandoshan? Oh frag, now I'm in for it. There's no hope of me taking down a Trandy, even if I could reach my blaster. The turbolift shuddered and hummed as it sped its way towards its destination, deep into the bowels of the shipyards. His communicator blipped.

"Can I answer that?" he asked the Trandoshan. He figured the answer would be no, but, well, you never know.

"Make it quick human. I am not patient."

Wow, didn't see that one coming. Rylaa slowly slipped the communicator out of his pocket and turned it on.

"Hello?" he asked hesitantly.

"Rylaa?" a distinctly feminine voice replied. "Where the hell are you? Credit somehow found me in my quarters."

"I'm a little indisposed right now, Lani, I'll have to call you... URRRRKK." The knife pressed close against his flesh, drawing blood. A thin stream began to run down to his chest.

"Too long!" he exclaimed. The clawed hand whipped around and smashed the communicator into the bulkhead. The plastic casing shattered, spilling the equipment's electronic guts onto the deck. Now what was he going to do? He was going to tell Lani that he had been captured using the code they had devised years ago but the damn lizard had busted that plan to pieces. Literally!

The remainder of the trip was spent in silence. Only the sound of the Trandoshan's heavy breathing kept Rylaa company during the long descent. He wasn't sure how he was going to get out of this. After all, if this was one of Dirge's men, and it probably was, then he would probably not do a thing. Dirge wanted him alive so that he could kill Rylaa himself. On the other hand, if this was a freelancer, he might just do whatever the hell he wanted, which boded ill for his victim. Anything could happen in a situation like this, that was half the danger.

"So do you have a name, or am I going to call you Lizard our entire relationship?" The blade pressed a little closer. Rylaa could feel the heat from the blood trickling down his chest.

"Normally I would not do so, human, but you already know who I am and so my name will strike my fear even deeper." A cold feeling washed over Rylaa, he only ever had one Trandoshan bounty hunter working for him. "I am Issnel Tilat." And that was him.

Despite all efforts of self control, fear wormed its way into his mind. Issnel Tilat was well known for using methods of torture for the sheer pleasure of it. A sado-masochist of the highest order. That's it, I'm dead. Fucking dead. There's no way of getting out of this.

The doors of the lift opened to a dimmed corridor that disappeared into the darkness. Broken steam pipes belched their contents into the foul smelling air while a couple live wires dangled and sparked from the ceiling. A pair of large humans stood on either side of the turbolift as Rylaa was shoved through the opening. They nodded to the bounty hunter as the duo passed. This is not going to be fun.

***

"Too long!" a harsh, raspy voice exclaimed. Then a loud thunk came across the circuit before fading into static.

Lani Visip looked down at the personal communicator in her hand. She didn't recognize the voice, but it sounded bad. Maybe that chubby bastard really had gotten into some deep droyk and was trying to blow it off. If so, she was going to have to find some way of rescuing him. It would not be easy, the Drogen Shipyards was a massive warren of corridors and compartments, many of which hadn't been used in years. However, it might be possible to find him by other means.

She grabbed a pair of pants and slipped into them quickly before heading out of the door to her rather spartan bedroom and into her almost as bare living room/kitchen. Her apartment in the upper levels was relatively cheap, especially for the nice area she was in. But years of living as both pirate and smuggler had taught her that the possibility of picking up and moving at a moment's notice was very real and very probable. Rylaa's little R2 unit, Credit, was already plugged into the data terminal. Figures, symbols, and strings of numbers ran across the data screen in a seemingly random fashion.

Then she picked up on it: the little droid was slicing! Depending on the software and hardware installed, a droid slicer was the best at everything except originality, which droid slicers sorely lacked. Though, if she knew Rylaa, he not only insisted on putting the best hardware and software in his droid, but he also made sure that it had a direct connection to the AI that ran it all. In that way the hardware and software, when combined with Credit's unique personality and penchant for getting everyone else out of trouble, would create what was quite possibly the ultimate slicing machine.

Visions of credits danced through her mind as she imagined the possibilities. She knew Credit well, he had been with his master longer than Lani had known him, and the droid would already have scanned the Holonet and found the absolute best upgrades for his software and quite possibly have downloaded more. Having served his master faithfully for almost 15 years, Credit had also picked up his Master's penchant for sidelining, the act of making profit while still doing your assigned task. The little droid's head turned and it whistled happily upon seeing her.

"Heya, Credit," she said. "Whatever it is you're doing, we have an emergency on our hands. Something happened to Rylaa. I'm not what it is, but we need to take care of it now."

"Beep bloop bop bip beep."

"Whoa... really? Over five thousand credits?"

"Beep."

"That's really good work! Anyway, we're getting off track here. I need you to see if you can tap into the shipyard's intranet and security system. Hopefully they don't have a closed loop..."

"Breep blip boop beep beep."

"It is? Blast, that makes it harder."

"Beep boop bop bip bleep boop beep blip whistle boop"

"Downloaded the electrical of the shipyards? Credit, you're a genius! Now I know why Rylaa takes such good care of you. Ok, where is the nearest line that we can tap?"

"Beep boop whistle blip."

"In my 'fresher? Oh great, that's all I need to explain is a hole in the bulkhead when I turn this place back over. Good thing it's not in my name."

A stroke of luck. Pure and simple...luck. Once again Lady Luck seems to be perched on Rylaa's shoulder. I wonder if he worships her, he always told me he wasn't religious. Oh well. "I take it you have a cutter?" A small compartment popped open on the R2 unit and a tool came sliding out on a hydraulic arm. Blue lightning arced between the prongs at the end. "Good, let's get started, I need him back."

I can't believe I said that, after what he did to me. I know he was just handing me a line of shit about the smuggling ring. I've been here two years and the security is way too tough. Especially with that bitch Rilanna hanging around. Could it be that I'm falling for that lug again? It's been years! And yet, I did feel something between us back then, perhaps it has surfaced. Lani quashed the thoughts and followed Credit to the 'fresher.

The 'fresher was like everything else in the apartment, small and bare. A sonic toothbrush and some cheap perfume were all that stood on the washstand. Credit rolled behind the waste disposal system and sparked his cutting torch to max power. I hope there aren't any alarms built in, because this will send them screaming.

The little droid continued to cut in a small circle while Lani expected a security team to kick open the door at any minute and turn them all into smoking pieces of meat. A circular section of thick bulkhead hit the deck with a clang, exposing the hidden conduits. Credit went to work right away, several tools and arms came out of his many compartments. They clamped onto a particularly large conduit casing and began to saw away at its casing. Two claws peeled away the rubber and plasteel while another pair sifted through the many wires and fiber optic cables running through. They found what they were looking for and a sharp tool sliced easily through the thin line. The first pair of gripper claws deftly twisted the exposed ends and threaded them through a strange device that Credit had on the end of one of his many tool arms.

"Blip beep boop boop."

"You're in? That's amazing! I've never seen anything like it. I also didn't know an R2 unit had so many tool arms."

"Whistle beep bloop bip."

"No storage at all? Well, I guess when you install that many you have to sacrifice something. Alright then," Lani squatted next to Credit, "can you get the sensors from the lower levels? Maybe the cameras too?" Credit whistled his affirmation. "Good I guess you can sift through all that data while I... Crap I don't know what it is I can do. I don't have many contacts here since I'm keeping a low profile. Wait, I suppose. All I can do is wait." Her face turned red and her already flaming red hair seemed to bristle and waver with its own internal combustion.

"I hate waiting!" she yelled at no one in particular. Lani whirled around and stomped out to the kitchen. She seized a tub of Gan & Larris iced cream from the freezer and sat down on her couch, spoon ready in hand. I can't believe I'm falling for that bastard again, and it's only been a day. I'll kill him for this.

---

"Downtown"
By: Hiroshi (Hiro) Kan-Ba - Freelancer

Location: New Plouton
Date: Lythe 21, 4ABY

***

The small room was moldy and smelled as if the previous occupant never heard of a refresher station. The lone small bed was hard and lumpy and the air was moist and humid. A small fan on the ceiling vibrated and tried to cool the room off but only succeeded in making the foul smell more egregious.

Hiro laid on the uncomfortable bed, staring at the small wobbly fan. The female barmaid, Jynia, at the Mynock's Haven had a room for rent not far from the bar. The room was cheap but definitely within Hiro's price range, so he decided to take it. He figured it would be more comfortable than the rack back on Gambit's Run.

He had spent last few days wandering around the space port and most of the Yelldon district. He checked out some cantinas and gambling establishments trying to put some feelers out about this Remy Ho'Sal. It was not surprising that most people either didn't want to talk about Remy or they just ignored Hiro all together. Hiro felt something stirring underneath the disquiet of the patrons and it disturbed him.

Hiro glanced at his chrono and saw it was mid-morning. The hot sun would be skimming through the high-rise buildings by now and the simmering heat would be in tow. He got up and walked over to a small table near the room's entrance and took a long gulp of water from a container he purchased the day before. The water was brackish but it was all he had at the moment. He quickly dressed, strapped on his blaster and exited.

It was indeed a timid morning. A few minutes of walking down the dusty street Hiro was sweating. Once again he wondered if he would be able to leave this despicable planet. With his new ship it was definitely possible now. Hiro was finally feeling optimistic which felt strange to him. Everything was usually negative in his life. Maybe it was time for something good to happen.

Like the past few mornings Hiro headed for the Mynock's Haven. He would stop by and get a cup of café and chat with Jynia. He was starting to like her even though she could sound bitter by her matter-of-fact banter. But that was what he liked about her. To him it was about as honest as anyone could get. Most tried to avoid being themselves and would rather talk in lies or false truths. Jynia told you how it was.

As he entered the cantina he was surprised to see Jynia not tending the bar. Instead a large alien male was tending. Hiro didn't recognize the species but it was a humanoid with large sharp ears. The eyes also had large furry brows that held the small pupil-less eyes in shadow, giving it a menacing look even when Hiro saw him smile at one of the other patrons at the bar.

Hiro took his usual seat at the corner of the bar and waited for the barman. He eventually strolled over and Hiro asked for a cup of café. The barman grunted and moved away. Shaking his head Hiro wondered why this guy was here. Maybe it was Jynia's day off. He'd only been here 5 days so maybe he just witnessed her full work cycle. Hiro shrugged and sipped the café the barman set down in front of him.

After his café Hiro decided to leave since he didn't have anyone to really talk to and it wasn't his nature to meet new people. He was content to be alone so he exited. Once outside Hiro chuckled and wasn't surprised that the heat hadn't dissipated. In fact it was hotter. Not sure where to start Hiro decided to head further into New Plouton. There were some other seedy districts he could check out. And hopefully he'd be able to find some clues on were Remy or Yammick Zennel. Something would have to come up sooner or later.

The quickest way downtown would be to find someone with a speeder. Hiro wasn't sure where he could find someone with a speeder available so he started asking around. He was directed to several speeder owners but none would take him. Finally about an hour later Hiro found and old mechanic to take him. The middle-aged man named Zeno was heading cross-town for parts and told Hiro he'd take him for no charge. Hiro was reluctant because Zeno was constantly twitching. But Hiro needed the ride and it was for free, so he took Zeno's offer.

Zeno had a small speeder which had only two seats. There was barely enough room for Hiro as the seats and the floor were littered with parts and random tools. As Hiro moved things aside to sit he smelled the strong smell of oils and lubricants filling his nose.

Zeno noticed Hiro's face. "Come on my boy, it ain't so bad!"

Hiro nodded and responded sarcastically, "If you say so."

"Right, we're off then. Any particular place you'd like to be dropped off?"

Hiro was stumped. Damn, he thought. I didn't think this far. He had planned on just investigating but now he needed someplace to start. After a slight hesitation he answered, "Take me to a popular cantina. I'm not that familiar with New Plouton so I'll let you decide."

Zeno laughed out loud and shook his head as he engaged the accelerator. "Great. I know just the place. Next stop - Downtown!"

---

"The Mountains Fires, Part 1"
by Quistis Knox
Sas Ter - NPC
Jasto Ferwer - NPC
Vinas "Dealer" Castur - NPC
James Suster the 3rd - NPC
Marius Befur - NPC
Shaes Yur Malin - NPC

Location: Roch'llor Mountains, Gallor
Date: Lythe 21, 4 ABY

***

The day before had been hazardous, since first they had to walk a small path to a big clearing where they were starting to climb the rocky wall to check point one. The path itself had room to put one foot in front of the other. On their left they had an inclined rocky wall sufficient to place a hand to maintain their balance, since on their right was endless deep that went to the blue mist and also there was the slight possibility that the fall could be greater, since from the blue mist to the ground was still unknown, so the fall could be greater than it seemed.

Second, most of Quistis' team made an extra effort to climb to check point one, since some of them didn't have time to fully recover from the Forger to here. One of the group threw up while she was climbing; luckily she was the last one of the team, so nobody was the target of her puke.

Quistis was the first to arrive to check point one almost four hours later than the original schedule that Quistis pointed out, since the mountain they were climbing was extremely difficult and also the side wall of the mountain seemed to be very strong, but it was fragile to hold the rope in case one of them fell to the deep.

Quistis couldn't sleep. She took guard of the entrance and sometimes she threw pieces of rock to see how strong were the winds, but she only saw the rock flying sometimes to her right or other times to her left. She sighed while as the rest of team started to wake up.

Marius took a seat next Quistis and looked as the sun was rising between the mountains. "Beautiful isn't it?"

"This rising of the sun is always beautiful in any planet even if it's on stinky place like Tae'Karada."

"Most of the team hardly know you, only by your reputation, but I know you very well, Quistis and I still can't know you so...so...deep," Marius said as he looked to her.

"That's because I'm complicated and like to be it. Also I don't like people saying what to do with my life - it's enough to receive those boring letters of my adoptive father about what I'm doing with my life is wrong and I should have commitment to the clan than to a stinky enterprise." Quistis continued to look forward.

"I'm not saying that, Quistis. You're independent and your adoptive father is only doing what is best for you because he knows that you still suffer for your parents' death..." Marius was interrupted.

"Don't you dare talk about my parents or I'll throw you off this mountain." She looked in a menacing way.

"Jeez, I was only making conversation, Quistis." He prepared to stand up and leave, but was stopped by Quistis.

"I'm sorry, Marius. I got a lot in mind. Please stay." Quistis paused and she looked to him. "It's so hard for me to talk about my parents, to talk about them."

"I know, Quistis, and seeing from the eyes of your mother must be so terrifying and I can't imagine what you felt when you saw all that, but it would do you good if you just talked about them. Anyway if you need someone to talk to I'm here..." Marius got up and put his right hand over Quistis' right shoulder, trying to comfort her. "Do you want me to wake up the rest of the team?"

"Yes do that, while I going to prepare the equipment." Quistis smiled as Marius entered once again the cave.

***An Hour Later***

Quistis was now following the lead of Dealer that was making the way to the tunnel: their destination and soon they would find what really happened.

Quistis moved when Dealer secured that the next step of the rope was secure. The temperature was some degrees under zero, but climbing a rocky mountain of that structure was hard and she only wanted to take off her huge jacket because she was sweaty all over her body because of it.

"Does anybody have the feeling that we are being watched?" James Suster said, while he followed Marius. While he looked to where was the next place to grab it.

Sas Ter shook her head. "Everybody knows that it's only your paranoia."

"It's not paranoia, Sas. Something about this place doesn't quite fit," James told them as he looked down to Sas.

"Last time you said that we had to flee from a rancor. Do you remember that, Dealer?" Marius asked while he shouted so Dealer could hear it.

"Yeah I do. We had to hide like some king of mauled or something..." He paused while he tried to see another safe place to climb to. "Marius, I'm not deaf so you can speak at your normal tone."

"I'm not used to climbing mountains that often, but when we climb we can hear one another because of the lack of oxygen?" Quistis asked and she heard a small moment of silence.

Sas stopped for a moment and thought what Quistis told him. "Strange... I can hear perfectly, Quistis, but that shouldn't happen. It's only my impression or it's getting hotter?"

"Now who is in paranoia? See, I told you that something didn't fit here," James told them.

"James, get something on your head. One thing is to know or to realize that something is strange for an alien planet. Another is to say that it's something is strange, but it's a natural thing on that planet. This that we are experience is strange for even an alien planet," Sas told them.

"This placed is a cursed place," a voice said. Every body stopped and looked to the one man: it was Shaes Yur Malin.

"Hey, guys, Mr. Malin can speak," James said.

"Shut your pile hole for one second, James," Sas told him and then looked down to Shaes. "Why do you say that, Mr. Malin?"

Mr. Malin took long to respond. "It's cursed, because Gemini's half brother was imprisoned here, so he cursed this place."

"Gemini?" Marius replied with heavy thought. "Isn't that the god of Gallorian religion?"

"Yes it is," Mr. Malin said very paused speech.

"Why was he imprisoned here? Why did he curse this place?" Jasto asked as he was behind Mr. Malin.

"Because Legend says that Gemini fought against his evil brother here and he won, so Gemini imprisoned his brother in the fires of the region and for his hatred of Gemini he cursed this place, but more radicals of this religion say that this legend was misunderstood because they believe that Gemini's brother cursed the entire planet," Mr. Malin said in a very cold and slow way.

"Yes of course. But that is only legend, because only a fool believes in curses..." Quistis said as she heard a crack from above. She saw Dealer falling from above and passed right by her; luckily she was able to stick her head on the rock since it caught her throat, she then instantly took two pickaxes and stabbed the rocky wall. When the weight of Dealer pushed her down she release her right hand, but she held her left pickaxe that was able to slow down as Marius extended his left hand to grab Quistis' right hand and doing that she held her position.

"Thanks, Marius. How is Dealer?" Quistis asked.

James Suster climbed a few centimeters to get near Dealer and he checked for any vital signs. "He has a pulse and he his breathing, but is out cold."

"Damn. All the luck in the galaxy and this had to happen. OK, just let me find a place to sit. Marius you take the lead followed by Suster and me. Sas takes also the lead followed by Jasto and Mr. Malin," Quistis said.

"Very quick thinking, Miss Knox," Mr. Malin told her and he would have applauded but his hands were occupied. "We are making V to carry Dealer while he is unconscious, right?"

"That is right, Mr. Malin, so people let's move; we are late as it is." Quistis sighed and then felt a shiver through her spine. That was the sign that she had a very bad feeling about this place; she only hoped that no more problems would happen, but something inside her told her that problems like this were going to be the least of her worries.

---

"Little Man"
By: Cirran Tyris (PC)
Sgt. Mathias 'Walker' Coin (NPC+)

Location: Drogen Shipyards, Tae'Remok system, Outer Rim
Date: Lythe 21, 4ABY

***

Cirran stood and looked into the quarters he had been generously assigned. He sighed, and ducked under the door frame to stand in the middle of the room. Then, just to confirm it, he outstretched his arms. Yes, he was indeed touching the opposite walls simultaneously. He threw his bag down, and jabbed the control that extended the bed from the wall. The bed emerged and immediately became a dominating physical presence in the small chamber. Cirran sat down on it heavily, running his hands through his tangled hair. He had had 4 hours of filling in forms, answering questions, checking out the 'Hope', submitting to searches, and trying to stop himself from becoming the Death Star of unhelpful sarcasm. Bureaucracy! I need some sleep, he thought.

But he didn't have time for sleep right now, because he had to deal with quite a situation; the fact that he was broke and stuck in a broom closet in the middle of a station that he had never intended to go which coincidentally housed quite a few people who would cheerfully arrest him if they worked out who he was, and he was stuck in this broom closet because seemingly he owed the administration of said station, who looked to have a private army at its disposal, a lot of time and money, due to the fact he had pranged his ship into it. Meanwhile, the man he was looking for was Gods knew where, perhaps even now slipping out of his reach, while he was stuck here...

Cirran swore loudly and punched the wall. Despite the cheapness of the room's hospitality, its construction proved robust enough, as his hand smacked into the painfully solid surface. "Argh, damnit!" he yelped, shaking his fingers. That was going to be a bruise.

Cirran reflected on things as he blew on his fingers. Feel better now, Cirran? he told himself. Sort yourself out, man - get it together, get the job done, and get gone. Nobody here's shot at you yet, remember? Certainly more than could be said for the last job.

Cirran hauled himself to his feet, retrieved his bag and grabbed a few items from it, among them the blaster rifle he had taken from Rigg, which had been returned to him by security staff after they had finished going through his belongings. Luckily no-one had found any of the small secret compartments, although with the 'Fool's Hope' stuck here, and soon to be subject to the attentions of a motley assortment of nosey dock workers, materials estimators, regular security checks and probably the odd surprise inspection by his new friends in the station hierarchy, that could soon change. Probably wouldn't be all that surprising if the entire crew compliment of the Katana fleet turned up out of legend for the guided tour this afternoon, thought Cirran irritably. Still, he would just have to hope his luck would hold.

He picked up the blaster and the motley collection of trade parts he had taken off the 'Hope' that he had determined weren't going to be of any use in his own repairs, threw everything else out of his bag onto a pile on the floor, and left the small room, following the directions he had received earlier to the nearest commerce area. Stuck as he was in what was meant to be temporary accommodations, designed for long haul freighter crews to take a few hours rest in, he was situated near the docking levels, rather than in one of the more luxurious apartments in the upper living areas. The clerk that had checked him in had pointed him in the direction of some operation called Rellia's Blaster Emporium, so he was headed there to try and make some cash.

He located it soon enough, after a taking a short lift ride: as the doors of the lift opened he could see it across the concourse. It seemed a fairly prominent shop on this level anyway. Cirran stepped forward out of the lift and headed towards the store; but his way was suddenly barred by a couple of security officers who raised their own rifles to block his progress. I love this place, thought Cirran. Still, he tried not to let his annoyance show. "What's the problem, fellas?" he tried amiably enough. The security officers did not return his smile.

"Are you licensed to carry a weapon down here, spacer?" one of them asked.

Cirran frowned. "I need a license on this level, Corporal?" he said, glancing at the lead officer's insignia. "Nobody told me that. But they just cleared this to me off my ship after a security check, and look, it's not even loaded." He held the ammo display out so that the corporal could read it. "Actually, I came down here to sell it. To tell you the truth, I wouldn't back my marksmanship versus a bantha...unless I was shooting at from orbit, of course." He tried another disarming smile.

The corporal remained unimpressed by his line of friendly banter. "In that case sir..." he smirked, "...you should have a trade license as well as an arms permit. You'll have to come with us."

It just gets better, Cirran thought. He sighed. "Look, Corporal, is that necessary?" he asked, somewhat indignantly. "I'll just turn around, get back in the lift, go back to the office of the Head of Red Tape on this crate, and fill out his forms in triplicate. OK?"

The corporal was having none of it. "I'm afraid you've committed a class three felony in carrying that weapon down here without a license, sir, and I really must ask you to accompany us to a security post."

Cirran snorted. "This is ridiculous! You must be joking. Look, I'm going to get the permit, all right?" He turned his back on the two men and took a step back towards the lifts, but froze mid-step at the sound of weapons powering up.

"Halt!" snarled the corporal. He turned slowly around to look into the barrels of two rifles, and slowly raised his hands.

"OK, so evidently you're not joking..." he said. Note to self: dismantle the 'Hope' for ever landing me here, he thought...

Cirran's little drama had attracted some attention. Several passers-by who had been going about their business, some of it almost certainly by the more looks of it a lot more illegal than Cirran's, had stopped for some entertainment, or perhaps to note exactly how security could be expected to behave on occasions such as this, for their own future reference. A hum of conversation started around Cirran and the security men. Cirran happened to notice 3 or 4 aliens glancing over in his direction at the back of the crowd, talking excitedly and swiftly exchanging a series of credit chits. He suddenly realised they were taking bets on whether or not he would make a move. Durga would love this station, he thought.

Just then a huge man, at least 3 heads taller than anyone in the crowd, began to push his way through the crowd from the right. "Clear out, people!" the man yelled. "Don't make me crack some heads!"

The crowd began to disperse, aside from the gambling aliens, who were eager to witness the result of their wager. The big man turned in their direction. "You too, Worash! You and your no-good cronies!" he roared. "I can't crack your bony head, but I can tie your tentacles in knots!" The gamblers reluctantly slunk off, and the giant turned his attention to Cirran and the two security men. "Now what's going on here, corporal?" he asked.

Cirran saw his face for the first time and his heart sank, for it was none other than the man who had been manning the repeating blaster about 4 hours ago. He was in his late 40s, scarred, grizzled, literally as big as a wookiee, and only marginally less hairy, save for a close-cut military haircut. He wore severely battered battle armour which seemed to include a variety of utility tools and weapons. The huge man recognised him as well, and a broad smile crept across his face.

"We got a no-good spacer who thinks he can carry a military carbine around on this level without a permit, Sarge," said the corporal, his eyes remaining on Cirran.

"Is that so?" bellowed the sergeant. "Interesting. Very interesting. You're dismissed, Corporal, I'll take it from here." He unholstered possibly the biggest handgun Cirran had ever seen, and pointed it casually in Cirran's direction.

"But, Sarge--" started the corporal, but that was as far as he got. The giant turned on him and began yelling even more loudly, which Cirran wouldn't have thought was possible.

"But sarge what!" he boomed. "I said I'll take it! So why are you still here? You know about those three armed scum we found poleaxed up on 204 yesterday, right?"

"Yes, Sarge, got 'em in the brig still out to it, Sarge!" stammered the nervous corporal.

"And your squad was on duty on 204 yesterday, right?"

"Y...yes, Sarge!" replied the corporal again.

"Right," said the big man. "So have you found out what it was all about yet, Corporal?" asked the sergeant.

"Er...no, Sarge," replied the hapless corporal.

"So some low-life, probably some crim, or bounty hunter, or maybe even an imp spy who blasted three other crims is walking around on my beloved station and you are telling me you have NO IDEA WHAT IN THE HELLS IS GOING ON?!"

"Er...no, Sarge. Sorry, Sarge!"

"Well then, Corporal, I suggest you take Bennings here and you haul arse up to 204 and you DAMN WELL START MAKING SOME INQUIRIES! Do I make myself CLEAR?"

"Yes, SARGE! Right away, SARGE!" Motioning to his patrolmate, the corporal lowered his weapon and headed for the lift double time. Cirran watched the lift doors close on them, and then turned back to look up at the sergeant, who was still pointing his enormous blaster. Looking up at people was not something the nearly 2 metre Cirran was used to, and it reminded him of the general bind he was in. To the hells with this, he thought. "Compensating for something?" he said bitterly.

The sergeant stared at him surprised for a second, and then broke into a booming laugh that echoed around the station. He holstered the blaster, still smiling. "You poor sorry son-of-a-bitch spacer," he said. "It's just not your day, is it? You really should have a permit, you know. But I figure anyone that has to deal with Captain Kir and Tasia Harough in the same day probably deserves a break. Plus I saw what bits were left working in your engine room, and I appreciate the fact that you didn't fly that hunk o'junk of yours into me or any of my buddies. That was some pretty OK flying." He grinned his sharkish grin and clapped Cirran on the back, which actually sent him staggering forward a couple of steps. Cirran spent a couple of seconds in astonishment, and then recovered sufficiently to break into a grin of his own.

"It certainly has been an enjoyable day thus far," he said. "My thanks, Sergeant...?"

"Coin. Mathias Coin. But around here most folks call me 'Walker'. Can't imagine why!' He broke into his belly rumbling laugh again. Cirran looked up at him and smiled.

"I'm Cirran. But why don't they call you 'Wookiee'? Seems more obvious, if you don't mind me saying," he asked.

Walker laughed. "Not at all, lad! I'm glad o' the comparison. But it doesn't stick, you see, 'cause Wookiees don't like to fight with their claws." Walker grinned, and as he touched a button on his right wrist, Cirran watched twin 20 centimetre vibroblades shoot forward from their wrist housing on Walker's suit to hum above his gloved fist. "I'm not meant to have them of course, but for a vet like me there are...exceptions," he said, taking satisfaction in Cirran's slightly taken aback look.

"But of course," said Cirran. "So it's 'Walker', eh? Yeah fair enough, I've flown fighters between legs smaller than yours," Cirran joked, and then his smile faded as his memory suddenly took him back to Hoth. He remembered the crash, and the smell of burning...he couldn't get out...

"Hey, are you OK?" came the voice of the big man, snapping Cirran back to the here and now. Walker was retracting his wrist blades. "What?..." Cirran started, "...oh, yeah, just some bad memories, and like you said, it's been a long day. But thanks again, Walker. I'll buy you a drink just as soon as I sell this thing." He held up Rigg's blaster rifle.

Walker whistled appreciatively. "Nice model," he said. "Where did you come by it?"

Cirran saw little point in telling more fibs today. "I stunned the previous owner before he could uncover the opportunity of shooting me with it."

Walker unleashed the grin that Cirran was beginning to see was his trademark. "Close to him and from behind, was it?" he asked.

"Yeah, how do you know that?" Cirran replied curiously.

Walker leaned forward, and reached into his jacket, pulling out something just enough to show Cirran it was one of his remotes. "I figured anyone that needs to carry these around probably don't shoot too good," he said.

Cirran went back to astonished. "Ah. Right," he said. "You found the hidden compartments, then?"

"Yeah, but just me," said Walker. "You pick up a few things in CorSec, like where to look. I lifted them before they did a complete internal scan of your ship. I'm not sure what, but something's got Her Upstairs real jumpy at the moment. They don't tell a grunt like me what's going on of course, but I better hold on to these for now, because they won't stop or scan me. As you've seen, lickspittles like Corporal Janus are getting pretty finicky about law enforcement right now."

Cirran nodded. "Thanks again.You know not to turn them on, right?"

Walker snorted. "Ha, what do ya take me for, some dumb moisture farmer, or a chair-riding desk jockey? Do I seem like your administrative type?"

Cirran held up his hands and smiled. "Sorry, of course not. But after the last few days I'd started to forget that there might be people who know how a remote actually works. But I have to ask, Sergeant, why are you sticking your neck out for me like this?"

"I told you, I appreciated that flying you did. But I appreciated even your moxie even more. 'This isn't the Cloud City casino'? Pelor's Teeth man, what in the hells were you thinking? That was Harough. And you had just trashed her docking bay!" He laughed his laugh again at the thought.

Cirran smiled ruefully. "Yeah, well I'm not sure if that was the best idea, in retrospect. And I thought you looked like you were going to throw me out of the airlock. Captain Kir told me as much."

"Who, cuddly old Walker! I'm harmless, I am! HA!" Walker chortled. "Normally she'd be right, but then where would I find another sorry-arsed spacer to buy drinks for me? And like I said, I like that you didn't park your ship in my favourite bar, or on top o' some favourite assets - mine or anyone else's. But I have to have the game face on when company comes-a-callin', or Captain Kir would kick me out the airlock! Where they berthed you, Cirran lad, some cubby hole in temp accommodation near the docking levels?"

"That's the one. I doubt you'd even fit through the door," replied Cirran.

"Well, I've got to go knock some heads together right now, but I'll hunt you down later for that drink! Make sure Rellia gives you at least 150 for the carbine. That'll buy us a lot of Rodian Ale!"

Cirran chuckled. "Rodian Ale, eh? Don't mind it myself. I will do, Walker. And thanks."

"No problem, little man," smirked the giant, and turned and strode towards the lifts.

Cirran watched him go, laughing to himself. That is without a doubt the first time I've been called that in my entire life, he thought. He turned and headed for the weapons shop.

---

"Mountains Fires, Part 2"
By Quistis Knox
Sas Ter - NPC
Jasto Ferwer - NPC
Vinas "Dealer" Castur - NPC
James Suster the 3rd - NPC
Marius Befur - NPC
Shaes Yur Malin - NPC

Location: Roch'llor Mountains, Gallor
Date Lythe 21, 4 ABY

***

The sun was very high when Quistis and the rest of the team arrived to the supposed tunnel where the footage was recorded. Jasto Ferwer, James Suster and Shaes Yur Malin continued their way up to establish a communication antenna, since transmissions to off world were not possible, yet.

Meanwhile Quistis and Marius set Dealer down on the edge of the rocky platform, covered with some coat above him that belonged to Quistis. Dealer continued to be out cold and now there was a slight chance that he wouldn't recover, because none of her team were medics or at least specialized in that area.

Quistis only had her normal dress, and she felt cold, because she was using her coat to cover Dealer's unconscious body. She then looked to all the equipment that was outside. Also she noticed that there was a passage walk to this tunnel. The tunnel itself looked like the entrance to hell itself, where doomed souls served their eternity for all the bad things they had done; also this entrance resembled one that she once saw in a holographic movie.

"Quistis, why did we climb this height if there is a path walk that reaches here?" Sas asked, intrigued.

Quistis looked to her and she saw Sas clapping her foot on the ground. "Because if we took that path he only arrived here two days later. In a situation like this we were able to arrive more quickly so climbing the wall of the mountain we gained a day, so whatever happened in there could still be in there, so we have it cornered."

Sas glanced over and she saw that Quistis was right, but no one was so fond about entering that tunnel.

Quistis set her mountain gear down and she took out her blaster rifle that was inside her bag-pack. "OK people, load up." Quistis placed the energy ammo inside the blaster rifle and she felt the weapon itself becoming live. She then took time to place one of her pickaxes and tied with a rope that was laying there.

Then she took out a small piece of equipment that looked like a huge black cylinder and then cracked it. The cylinder itself lit up like it was the sun; she, without thinking, placed it in part of her weapon that was prepared to put this cylinder.

"OK, people look sharp, we don't know what happened, but what ever caused this problem can't be far," Quistis said to the remaining team and entered the tunnel.

The tunnel had a round shape because of the mining process. The tunnel was like this huge cylinder, but blackness ruled the horizon. There were very tiny holes on the ground, ceiling and walls of the tunnel, but this wall there were only flaws on the rocky mountain.

A sound of water drops was heard and Quistis nodded, intrigued. "Is that drops I'm hearing?" Marius said.

"Yes it is, that is strange, isn't it?" Quistis said, continuing to walk more deep inside the tunnel.

After a few minutes they saw where the drop sound came from; Quistis and Sas looked to the small lake that was forming. She glanced to it and it looked like water, but its color was silvery.

"What is this?" Sas asked, looking to Quistis.

"Don't know, but according to the reports I read that this can probably be some kind of liquid that forms Cartosis," Quistis said simply, advancing a little and looking to the blackness of the tunnel.

"Oh... so this is what forms Cartosis? A liquid?" Sas asked, looking very disappointed.

"No. This liquid is the cartosis, before it becomes solid as rock; how it's done it is still a mystery. At this stage the cartosis is as inoffensive as Marius." Quistis smiled.

"Hey... Look, I'm not inoffensive." Marius saw both looks from the girls. "OK, OK... maybe just little bit."

"Let's keep going. We are not that far from the mining machine," Quistis said has she continued to move forward.

***

Suster looked upwards and saw that it wouldn't take long to reach the top, but what was going to take long was the placement of the communication antenna, since it had to endure quite some years there, but the wind that probably be up there was going to be a problem. Suster noticed that every time he climbed he felt the air not so heavier, it was more easy to breathe.

"What still doesn't enter in my stupid skull, is how is it possible, at this height, that there can be so much oxygen?" Suster said and at the same time asked.

"Don't look at me, James. I don't get it either, because we are not far from space and this is impossible," Jasto told them as he continued to follow Mr. Malin that was now in the lead.

"One thing that my life taught me is that nothing is impossible, maybe improbable...." Suster paused, while he focused in reaching the next step to climb a little more. "We saw some other things that were also impossible, yet they happened."

"Not even we the Gallorians can't explain this, it still eludes us. Come to think of it, there are lot of things in this planet that elude us still," Mr. Malin said.

"Glad you shared that with us, Mr. Malin, next time you want us to set a communication tower and solve some mystery you can give us a call, OK?" Suster said with smile.

"Agreed, but now please focus on what are you doing, so we can get to the top quickly. The sooner we reach check point one the better, I don't like to be in this height and in these mountains. Especially on this one," Mr. Malin spoke with in a way that Suster and Jasto looked to one another and nodded.

***

Quistis saw in the distance that from in the blackness that was forming, the air was somewhat hard to breathe, like she was breathing something else. "Sulphur! Is there a possibility this mountain is a volcanic one?"

"Don't look at me, Quistis, I don't know, but if this was a volcanic mountain wouldn't the miners report it, I mean isn't there a way to see if the mountain is a volcanic one?" Marius said as he continued to follow Quistis, his breath was now a big noise.

"Yes there is and no miner is so stupid to do that. It is too dangerous for machine and the miners also can navigate the other tunnels," Sas told them.

"Why?" Quistis asked.

"Imagine this. One of the machines hits one pocket full of lava, what happens? You just created a path for the lava to climb, not only does it go up in incredible speed, catching the miners that are running away, also the high temperatures of it will easily kill without touching; also the speed of lava was so great that it could provoke an earthquake..."

"Wait..." Quistis elevated her hand like it was a fist. "I see something."

"What is it?" Sas asked, looking to the blackness, but she couldn't see anything.

Quistis continued to walk and after a few minutes they found finally the mining machine. As she approached it a stench of sulphur became more strong and it came from the machine itself. Quistis saw that smoke was still coming from the place. "This machine is hopeless!"

"Yeah tell me about it. How can you use anything from it if the machine is melted," Marius said as he walked to the other side.

"Whatever did this had to be extremely hot, to melt a machine like this," Sas said as she followed Quistis.

"Sas how extremely hot can melt something like this?" Quistis asked.

"Well... I would say temperature to roast something like this only by lava. But the tunnel itself doesn't show any signs of being that..."

A scream of some kind of animal was heard in the entire tunnel. The small party looked everywhere, but they only could see blackness. They had their blaster rifles ready to fire.

Out of nothing this huge two feet tall monster with white fur and teeth so sharp came out of nothing and threw Marius to the ground. Quistis and Sas fired against it, but the shots deflected by some kind of personal shield.

"It has shields..." Quistis said as she moved behind the machine and tried to pull Marius that was still realizing that he was thrown to the ground, but then Quistis saw what exactly she said. How could it be? An animal to have personal shields?

Sas fired a couple of shots, but the shield protected the furry animal from them. She the walked backwards and saw that the animal couldn't pass by the machine without burning itself on the heat that still came from the machine.

"Sas called its attention?" Quistis said without thinking.

"WHAT!?" Sas said extremely surprised. "Are you crazy?"

"Just do it..." Quistis said as she moved into position to passed the beast or at least to jump upon him.

"Hey, you ugly, stupid, smelly, stinky, fuzzy animal. Over here, look at me, you can't catch me. You can't catch me," Sas said as she noticed that the beast fully understood what she was saying to him. The beast screamed and tried to advance but then it couldn't; the beast burned itself on the melted machine.

Quistis saw her opportunity to move; she then jumped over the beast, grabbing it by his throat. The beast lost his equilibrium and fell to the ground. Then Quistis jumped backwards. The beast looked to the three people and then spoke something into comm that was one of his hands. "Sir, I need assistance now!

Quistis then approached the beast that was still struggling to get up and took its head off and saw it was a human. When she was about to make her first question, a burst of green and red energy rays passed by Quistis' head. She quickly sought refuge behind the machine and fired against her new enemy. She got two soldiers in the first burst, as did Sas. Marius was only realizing by now that he was under fire; he tried to aim against the enemy, but he was still where am I.

Quistis saw that there were still too many of them. "Sas, Marius, get hell out of here, we are retreating. We can't hold this position, form up at the entrance."

Sas and Marius started to run, as Quistis exited her cover position, activating her shield. She then moved backwards. Eliminating some of the soldiers, when she finished firing her round she then started to run towards the exit. Quistis was right behind Sas and Marius, when she tripped and fell on the ground. A green energy ray passed by her and hit the small pound of the liquid that they found earlier and the energy Ray ignited, creating an instant fire.

Quistis tried to get up when she saw Sas throwing a thermal detonator towards the enemy. "Shit!" Quistis screamed as she pulled Sas and Marius. "RUN AS FAST AS YOU CAN!"

***

James, Jasto and Mr. Malin arrived to the top, but the strangeness continued to happen since there was no winds, none whatsoever. "OK this is starting to freak me out. How is this possible?"

"James, let's just do what we came here to do and let's go down please. I'm starting to be sick and tired of climbing mountains and the faster we arrive to check point one, the better," Jasto told him as he took out some of the equipment.

"OK, fine. Hand me the hammer," Suster said. Mr. Malin set in one of the ends of the rock and was admiring the view from the top of the mountain.

***

Quistis exited the tunnel and picked up her pickaxe that had rope tied on it and then looked to Dealer that was already wake and seated up.

Dealer saw Quistis tired, followed by Sas and Marius. Dealer saw that Marius was somewhat bleeding from one of his hands. "What happened?" Dealer asked

"No time for that, just grab this rope, quickly!" Quistis said as she threw the rope to her companions.

"Why?" Dealer asked inoffensively.

"Are you secured? Are you ready to jump?" Quistis asked her companions. Marius and Sas nodded affirmatively.

"Yeah I will jump if the occasion calls for it," Dealer told her, getting up.

"Good... Trust me, it calls for it." Quistis threw Dealer from the rocky platform, followed by Sas and Marius.

Quistis jumped, following, and then she used her pickaxe on her right hand to stab the rocky wall. The pickaxe descended a few meters down when it stopped descending and it was secured. Quistis' right shoulder snapped moving out of place. Quistis screamed in pain.

A huge explosion occured, followed by a gigantic one. The entire area surrounding the tunnel upwards and to the sides exploded, making this huge fireball. Debris of rocks fell towards the blue mist. A huge cloud of smoke covered the surrounding areas and also hiding the real dimensions of the blast.

***

The mountain shocked, followed by a huge sound of two explosions. Suster and Jasto fell to the ground by a shock wave. Mr. Malin, almost fell off the top of the mountain, but his quick reflexes prevented him from falling.

"What the hell was that?" Suster said, looking to Mr. Malin.

"Look down there... Jeez, look to the fire ball," Jasto said, amazed by the fire ball.

"If I'm not mistaken that is where once was the tunnel and also we don't have no way of climbing down."

Jasto