Intersections of light and dark

[Kale]

The night air was warm enough that Kale didn't really need the thin, threadbare blanket, but he clutched it close to his chest for comfort's sake as his mother stooped to tuck it in around his shoulders. Her face was careworn, weathered, and thin from hunger, but it radiated love like a brilliant sun, and to him it was strength, security, and the greatest beauty he'd ever known.

Her face was also sad. Kale had never understood why. He tried smiling to cheer her up, and she smiled back, but the sadness never seemed to leave her eyes.

This called for drastic measures. The boy's eyes acquired a conspiratorial glint.

His mother tilted her head cannily. "What are you thinking about, kiddo?"

"Got somethin' to show you," Kale replied.

She shook her head gently. "It'll have to wait for tomorrow. It's late, and you need your rest, and so do I."

"It'll only take a minute!" Kale sat up in bed and reached down into his pajama pocket, and before his mother could protest, he'd pulled something out and was holding it tightly before her in his little, bony fist.

"Kale... is that..." She reached down and turned her son's hand over. There was an unmistakable shimmer of white crystal between his fingers. Suddenly she grew very serious.

"Kale, how did you get this?"

Kale blanched. "I... found it."

"This was in a chest under the floorboards under my bed," she said. "I hid it for a reason."

"But it..."

"It's dangerous, Kale - if the wrong people saw it, we could both be in a lot of trouble..."

"Mom, this isn't what I wanted to show you!"

His mother fell silent, her brow furrowed in concern. "What did you want to show me, Kale?" she asked.

"This is the only thing that works with it," Kale said apologetically. "I wouldn't'a looked though your stuff otherwise. But you'd shown it to me before. An' what you could do with it. An' I wanted to try."

His mother was holding her breath and wearing a haunted expression somewhere between fear and longing, but Kale didn't notice. He opened his hand and held the crystal in the middle of his palm, staring at it with immense concentration.

The crystal wobbled in his shaking hand, then rolled back and forth. And then, as if it had become weightless, it slowly floated upward. It hovered centimeters over the cup of Kale's palm, shuddering slightly like an autumn leaf stubbornly clinging to a branch.

And then his concentration broke, and the crystal dropped back into his palm. Overcome, the boy bent down over his knees and rubbed his tired eyes with the back of his hand. When he looked up, his mother was trembling, and her dark eyes were welling up with moisture.

"Mom?" he said tentatively. "Are you all right?"

She stared at him for several long seconds, her mouth open. Then she leaned down and wrapped her son up tightly in her arms.

"I'm fine, Kale. It's wonderful. And I love you. So, so very much."

Kale felt a warm tear slide off her cheek and onto his own. Not knowing what else to do, he hugged her back as tightly as he could--

And then he saw her, a little, dark-haired girl, walking into a massive, opulent temple against the Coruscant skyline--

And saw her, a pre-adolescent, crawling through the grimy streets of a dark, unfamiliar city--

And saw her, a teenager, locked lightsaber to lightsaber with a laughing, yellow-haired boy--

And saw her, a young woman, flying a small starship through a thundering war zone--

And saw her tumbling down, down, down a black, bottomless crevasse as a dark figure watched from an illuminated skybridge...

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

Kale jolted upright, slick with sweat, clutching his mother's Agedan crystal so tightly it was cutting his fingers. He cast about like a trapped animal for a few terrible moments before he regained his bearings. He was sitting on a rickety bunk in what passed for sleeping quarters aboard the 917-Orwell, a five-hundred meter bulk transport converted to an economy passenger liner. It was a spacegoing slum, a massive freighter whose cavernous holds had been marginally equipped to carry three thousand passengers at a bare minimum cost for space travel.

The Coruscanti thief turned on the flickering light panel above his bunk so he could read his wrist chrono - 04:42. Time was relative in space, but even though his internal clock said it was way too early to get up, he knew he was too wired to fall back asleep. So he killed the light and leaned back against his centimeter-thick foam pillow to try to work out the crazy, fragmented images that had forced themselves on his subconscious.

He remembered the first time he'd used the Force in front of his mother - it was one of his most vivid memories - but he hadn't just remembered it, he'd been reliving it. And then there were these other pieces, places he'd never seen, events he'd never witnessed - the only explanation he could come up with was that they were his mother's memories. And somehow, those memories were haunting him wherever he went.

He uncovered the glowing crystal in his hand. If there was any light in any room, the crystal would find it, multiply it, and refract it through its dozens of perfect faces, turning it into something beautiful. Kale never got tired of looking at it.

There was a stirring noise from the bunk above him, and Kale had the distinct impression of someone listening intently.

"It's nothin', Lorca," he said. "It was just a dream. I'm goin' back to sleep now."

It was as bald-faced a lie as you could ask for.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

The following morning, Lorca found himself alone in their room. Kale had kindly left his light panel on so that there wouldn't be another injury; Lorca had nearly rendered himself unconscious on the ceiling when he woke the day previous. He rubbed his head to find there was still a faint lump above his left eye. He yawned, sucking at the thick air, and dropped down from his bunk to shake himself awake. In the narrow space between the bunk and the walls, he struggled into his clothes. He sniffed a patch under his arms, grimaced, and wrestled with the idea of braving one of the communal washrooms. Since he'd slept in, he decided against it; the likelihood being that he'd come out dirtier than before. After pulling on his unlaced boots, he left.

"Good morning," he greeted a crooked middle-aged woman as they squeezed past each other in the corridor, and another, "Good morning."

Every passage on the ship was the same, full of awkward close-encounters and uncomfortable brushes with every manner of down-and-out the city planet could spit into space. Most kept their eyes down but others saw business opportunities; Kale caught a kid trying to rummage through his pocket as they passed, and last night, Lorca had been accosted by a woman with busy hands and an open purse. There were battles to be won at every turn on this adventure, he was beginning to realise.

A door was open at the foot of a busy stairwell, and while Lorca waited for a couple of young men to carry a disabled old woman down the stairs, he glanced inside. The lights flickered on the faces of a haggard woman in a shawl, two wailing infants cradled in her arms, and three naked youngsters peering from the top of the bunk bed, they were chewing bread. He winced at the smell of stale cheese and pressed on. Once upstairs, the hallways grew wider but the traffic doubled. Voices were raised; men bartered angrily over simple goods, their sons often fought, women cried out to their children, and girls shoved to pass each other. Lorca drifted through the masses like a log on a frothy white river.

"Care if I join you?" he asked a man sat at the dead-end of a corridor on one of the lower levels. The man's face was blank, he didn't speak basic.

"Well, they say two is company."

Lorca eased himself against the wall and sat, his knees pressed against his chest. He had walked to a level where he knew few would venture: engineering. No one had any reason to come down this far unless they sought solitude. He found it ironic that the man sat next to him with the bushy moustache and the sooty face was a mechanic. He wore filthy blue overalls. Perhaps the clanking of tools and buzzing of engine coils became too much after a while, Lorca thought. He too was glad to get away; away from Coruscant, the place that had been his prison for the last two years. Now he was on the move again and he had Kale to thank for it, but since boarding the ship he'd had a looming sense of dread and doubt. This wasn't like his travels with Master Honchu. He was the mentor now.

Suddenly, the mechanic lurched forward; he reached out with grubby fingers to a small porthole with a black shutter. He gripped the lip of the shutter and pushed it up. The vapid glare of the interior electrics was abolished in an explosion of light. The corridor was filled with shimmering blues that rippled against a backdrop of intense white. Lorca gasped, and looked through the porthole. The ship was enveloped in a vein of hyperspace awash with colour; tongues of striking azure lashed out and wrapped around brilliant swirling clouds. All was silent, and he and the mechanic sat staring at the majesty beyond the ship.

After a while, he stood and bade the mechanic farewell, who in turn smiled like a drunk. Fifteen minutes later, he was back at the room where he found Kale sat on his bed, munching toast.

"I wasn't brave enough for the mess hall today," he confessed, and shut the door behind him.

[Kale]

"Gotta eat somethin'," the teen replied through a mouthful. "'Specially after that beating you took. Here."

Kale reached into his bag and pulled out something that in a perfect world would have been a breakfast pastry of some kind. He tossed the sugary, spongy thing to Lorca and went back to his toast. Bulk transports like the Orwell were for those who wanted to get there from here at the lowest cost possible, and meals weren't included in the ticket price. You either brought your food in packages - and the restrictions on luggage size didn't allow for much - or you paid a seven-credit fee to wait in line for a carefully rationed portion of whatever reconstituted entree was slowly liquefying in its own artificially flavored juices in the mess hall.

Or, if you were Kale, you sneaked into line for free and then smuggled back whatever extras you could fit under your jacket on the way out. Any shipmaster who could afford to be so stingy didn't engender much sympathy as far as Kale was concerned.

He swallowed the last of his toast and fingered the bulge of the Agedan crystal beneath his shirt. He'd been doing that a lot lately.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"Cheers."

He examined the pastry for a moment and the memory of the mother and her five children crammed into one cabin surfaced. It was with a pang of guilt that he took his first bite and settled onto the bed next to Kale. The pastry was tough to chew, which was fortunate, Lorca thought, because it lasted longer. Kale had zoned out again and was fondling the crystal his mother left him. He frowned.

"Did you get back to sleep?"

[Kale]

Kale blinked. "Hmm? Oh... well... wasn't that tired. Uh - I mean..."

He faltered momentarily. He wasn't used to this yet - someone who asked about his well-being because they actually cared. Where he came from, you didn't waste other people's time with your problems. But when it came to dreams and visions, he was in uncharted territory. Lorca knew a lot more than he did about this Force stuff.

"I had another dream," he said at length. "I needed some time to think it over."

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"I thought you would," he said, and tore off another chewy piece of sponge with his teeth.

His eating gave him time to think. He was no expert on dreams and his knowledge about the Force was limited. He didn't want to give Kale any false impressions. While he chewed, he watched him intently, the sharp lump in his shirt propped between his thumb and forefinger. He knew what he had to ask him next, and swallowed.

"Was it your mother?"

[Kale]

Kale nodded. "I told you what my dreams were like - just, y'know, bursts. Images. Maybe I recognized a place or a person, but I couldn't piece any of it together. This was different."

He turned toward the wall and focused on nowhere in particular. "I was back in our flat on Coruscant. I remember it - I was six years old, maybe seven. I had my mom's crystal in my hand. I'd taken it out of the jewelry box where she kept it under her bed. I'd been practicin' all day, just tryin' to make the crystal move... I'd tried it with other things, but I felt like I had a connection with the crystal. It was somethin' I could imagine perfectly in my head. I was sure if I worked hard enough, if I concentrated... I could make it move."

The boy cupped his hand in front of his shirt collar, as Lorca had seen him do before, and the crystal snaked up on its leather cord out of his shirt and floated gently into his palm.

"My mom came in to tuck me in for the night. I hadn't gotten it to work yet, but I wanted to show her. To show her I was tryin'. An' it worked. It moved. It was the first time I was ever really sure I could use the Force. Then she started cryin', an' I couldn't understand why. I think I understand a little better now."

He sighed and turned the crystal between his thumb and forefinger, watching the play of light on the tight cabin walls. "It wasn't like a normal dream. That feeling that you're sorta there and sorta not. It was as real as you an' me in this room right now. An' then it... then it fell apart again. Images all broken up together, like changin' the channels on a holo. I can remember what they were, but I don't know what they mean."

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"Even the best of us can't control what we see in our sleep."

He'd nodded in understanding but kept his doubts hidden. His master would've pressed on with a training excercise to help take his mind from such personal concerns; he had been taciturn with his words and gave Lorca the space and time to work some things out for himself. Times had changed, and Kale didn't have space and time. He had an idea.

"Kale, have you ever seen things like this outside of sleep?"

[Kale]

The teenager shot Lorca a quizzical look. "Well... no. I kinda think I'd be worried if I did."

[Lorca Dawnstone]

He smiled in spite of himself and turned on the bed until he sat cross-legged on the mattress, facing the boy. A simple gesture of the hand and Kale followed suit, looking no less perplexed. Out of habit, he glanced over his shoulder at the closed door then returned his attention to him.

"It is possible to be awake and have these dreams. If you relax and follow my instruction, you may be able to see what you saw again, only this time you will be in control."

He finished his unsavoury breakfast, mindful of crumbs, dusted off his hands and spoke through a half-full mouth.

"You interested?"

[Kale]

It was the sort of prospect that took a few seconds to fully settle in. It exhilarated Kale and frightened him at the same time.

"What, uh... what sort of thing do you have in mind?"

As much as he ached to know more about what was going on in his head, he was reluctant to let someone else in on something so private, so affecting. It was a vulnerable feeling.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"Just close your eyes and relax."

It took Kale a moment to do it, Lorca reckoned the boy might be expecting a punch-line, so he was patient. He closed his own eyes and spoke softly over the low hum of the engines.

"Take steady breaths. Clear your head of any thoughts and any doubts. Listen to my voice. Now imagine that deep inside you there is a warm, soothing light. Feel it deep down and let it spread. Feel it spread from your chest to your head, along your arms and down your legs. Feel it tingle in your toes and see the light leave your fingertips. Allow the light to fill you and surround you. Nothing but light. Breath in... and out. Listen to my voice."

Lorca could feel himself drifting, his voice sounded distant in the thick white fog he'd built up around himself inside his head. He fancied he even sounded a little like his master. It was a comforting sensation.

"The light that engulfs you is thick and white. It is fog and it is beginning to lift. Slowly... slowly... wait for it. And soon you will see. The fog is clearing. Breath in... and out... Listen to my voice."

[Kale]

Kale closed his eyes. And then, just to be sure, he opened one to see that Lorca had closed his eyes, too.

Clearing his head - that was easier said than done. Kale was used to being on the move all the time, always scouting out for food, shelter, which neighborhoods he needed to avoid - but there was nothing to worry about here and now. He was on this ship until it reached the next port on the Hydian Way, at least; food wasn't an issue, and most of the passengers were the type trying to escape trouble, not the type to make it.

Even so, his mind didn't quiet down easily. He wrapped his hand around the only thing that could always calm him down, felt the crystal's edges settle into the creases of his fingers, and focused on the sound of his breath, the sound of Lorca's voice, the sound of the Orwell's engines thrumming distantly behind them.

He frowned. "Don't see anything yet," he said. "It's just... dark."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The 917-Orwell was a piece of work. The woman pushed her way through a cramped corridor, her senses assailed by the smell of unwashed bodies. She crinkled her nose, trying to avoid the tickle that meant a sneeze was coming, but failed. Having to gasp in a huge breath and then let go with an explosive sneeze made all her prior efforts not to inhale the stench for naught.

It wasn't that she wanted to go to Dantooine. She didn't.

She didn't know what she wanted.

Was she ...

No, don't think about it now. Too many people around. The dark haired woman brushed past a portly alien of a type she didn't bother trying to identify, stumbling through into another corridor. She'd left her room hours ago, before most of the occupants of the retrofitted bulk transport were awake. She'd been walking ever since.

Her stomach defied reason and growled, despite the smells and sounds around her. It wasn't like she had to take such a run down passenger liner. Not any more. Now she had a new master, and a modest line of credit for her disposal.

Now that she was Darth Malleus.

Her green eyes stared dully out from her pale face, her scar nearly invisible on her skin. She needed to eat.

She needed to sleep.

She needed...

Lilaena De'Ville rubbed her eyes, leaning against a bulkhead as the Orwell took her ever closer to her destination.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"Have patience," he said, "First, you have to envision the light, allow it to come to you and get lost in it. Find peace there and think of nothing else. Patience is the key. Practice and patience."

They sat in silece, Lorca in his practiced stillness could feel the boy opposite him shuffle and disturb the bedsheets. He put it out of his mind and allowed himself to relax - it had been a while since he'd last afforded himself the time to meditate, no matter how much his master had impressed upon him its importance all those years ago. Suddenly, all the ambient sounds around him slipped away and he found himself at comfort in a safe place filled with light somewhere deep within his mind.

The space around him tingled and reverberated with a low steady rumble of his own breathing like he had shrunk and disappeared somewhere inside his soul, presuming his soul was buried in his chest for there his heartbeat resounded so loud and so soft like the gentle flutter of giant wings carrying him through the clouds away from himself. Then there was silence and nothingness.

A thunderous crash. The tremor of fire rending metal. Dying machines crying out like the weak young abandoned to the mercy of icy elements. Those emerald eyes, shimmering with wild malevolence. Kale. Black emptiness and the lonely maw of space.

Lorca eyes snapped open with a sudden intake of breath. He was back in the room, Kale was sat with him, and his shoulders slumped with the release of tension. He cleared his throat.

"Can you see the light yet?"

[Kale]

Whatever Lorca had seen had been completely lost on Kale. He was still searching for his center of peace, which brought him back, inexorably, to the crystal in his hand. And back.

Years back, half a lifetime ago, when the galaxy wasn't so huge and unfriendly, the bedsheets were thin but warm, and the flat was small and spartan but it was home, and his mother was a tower of stability and security. He didn't like coming back here - it rubbed too close to too many wounds, and it was an affront to his pride to scroll back to such a childish age, but it was the most peace he'd ever known.

Beneath his hand, the crystal began to glow, faintly, pulsing like a firefly.

"Yeah..." Kale's eyes began to dart behind their closed lids. "Yeah, I can see it. It's starting to... I think I can..."

Suddenly, his breath caught in his throat. "Holy frell... I can see her!"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Now that she knew she wanted to get some food, she didn't know where the mess was. The galley.

Not that there was only one. There were at least three cafeteria type areas on the Orwell, and they were perpetually packed with people. Like an endlessly rotating line, the passengers cycled through galleys and refreshers and rooms, eating, sleeping, and cleansing - just to start the cycle over again.

Like worms. She felt like one of them, crawling through the warren of tunnels in the dark. Suddenly claustrophobic, Lilaena shoved her way through a small knot of refugees, growing frantic for air.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"Good," he said softly, "Hold your concentration. Stay in that place. Relax."

Lorca's eyes were fixed upon the boy's hands and the glow permeating his fingers. Jedi senses weren't needed to detect the emotion in Kale's voice and he found himself conflicted; the boy showed exceptional progress with little instruction but his longing for his mother was strong. He frowned, the strange images still fresh in his mind.

"Stay calm, Kale. Relax. The Force moves through you like it moves through every living thing, and through it we are all connected, unhindered by the bounds of time and space. Can you see?"

[Kale]

What Kale saw was a tableau of the memory he'd visited in his sleep - his mother stooping to tuck him in, the dingy bedroom which was little more than a closet, but it was all faded and blurred around the edges, like an afterimage burned into his mind's eye.

He sensed the light of the Force surrounding the little scene like a theater curtain. "Yeah," he said. "I can see it."

If he turned his attention from side to side, he could see it flowing like water or wind, but he couldn't make sense of it. In the Force, there were layers upon layers, eddies and crosscurrents, connections forming and breaking all around. But his perception was limited, like looking at the sky through a long tube. He felt like a very small fish trying to comprehend the whole ocean.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

The hint of a smile flickered on Kale's face and the burden of Lorca's thoughts lifted, he grinned. They shared a slience which lasted five minutes, he watched the boy intently and drew on the memories of his own training from years ago. Practice and patience, his master used to tell him, and Lorca was left to meditate far away from any distractions and would be later subjected to controlled tests in order to measure his progress. They had no such luxury here. His hushed voice broke the silence.

"A Jedi understands the importance of control. The clarity of these visions will improve with time and meditation. You see, it is not our dreams that are turbulent, only ourselves. When you are at peace with yourself, Kale. Do you understand?"

[Kale]

"I think so," Kale replied tentatively. He wanted to ask about what he was seeing, but he wasn't sure he could put it into words. He was sure his mother had taught him this - clearing his mind, quieting his soul, listening to the currents of the Force all around - but he'd never seen so much before. He wasn't sure if it was Lorca or...

He slowly released the Adegan crystal and let it hang slack against his chest. At once his awareness shrank to something more manageable. He turned, eyes closed, toward Lorca and perceived a serenely glowing silhouette through which luminous strands of the Force flowed. "That's you..."

Then he turned toward the doorway and the bulk of the ship, and he could faintly make out a whole mess of sentient life, not shining like Lorca, but still connected by the glowing strands. The Force swept over and around them like a river over rocks, chopping dangerously here, gathering in a tranquil pool over there. It was life with the covers removed, its beauty and elegance, its brutality and stupidity.

At last he broke the trance and came up for air. "Wow. That--"

He winced at a sudden headrush. Extending himself that far was like working out a muscle he hadn't used in years. Kale rubbed gingerly at one throbbing temple. "That's gonna take some gettin' used to."

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"It gets easier."

He fished under the bed and found a canteen half full of room temperature water. He gave it to Kale and rose from the bed to give the boy some room.

"You might want to lie down and sleep it off. The medicine cabinet is bare, I'm afraid."

Of course, there was no medicine cabinet but Lorca had been given supplies from his friends at the Last Stand hostel when he left. These supplies were limited and only to be used in emergencies. He sighed, at once becoming aware of the clamor beyond the door, and returned his gaze to Kale.

"How do you feel?"

[Kale]

Kale took a grateful sip from the canteen and shook his head. "I don't think I could sleep after that. Honestly, I feel like I could use a walk to clear my head." He spun and dropped his legs over the edge of the bed, then laughed. "Not like there's anywhere to walk to on this crate. How was your..."

He glanced down at the discarded wrapper from Lorca's spongy breakfast whatever-it-was.

"...thing?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Crawling through the ship, Lilaena felt slightly better as she put distance between herself and her tiny cubicle that she'd been assigned for sleeping space. Deactivated farming droids were stacked up in a large cargo area she'd just passed, waiting for when the refugees and settlers and whoever it was that was on this horrible transport ship landed on Dantooine.

Pausing, she took her bearings, looking around at an intersection between two perpendicular passageways. A worn down sign fastened to the grey bulkhead indicated the direction of a galley, and the Dark Jedi walked briskly towards it. Her stomach growled, but she told it not to hold onto any hope for a tasty meal. Usually on these type of ships you found protein and vitamins, but no taste. It was a money thing.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"It was a bit..." he paused, and found himself staring at the wall as if an adjective would appear on it, he glanced down at Kale and shrugged, "I'm not sure."

From his stomach there came an incriminating burble, like that of thick bubbling bog, and he glanced down and rubbed his belly. He smirked.

"I'm not sure if that is a good sign or not but I need to eat."

He plucked his jacket from the bedpost and slipped into it, the synthetic leather squeaked. His gaze fell upon Kale as he patted out the creases in his sleeves.

"You coming? It's on me!"

[Kale]

Kale wasn't about to say 'no' to a free meal - even though, technically, most of his meals were paid for by other people.

"All right, just - you've got your credits in an inside pocket, right? I don't want to have to rescue them again." He gave Lorca an impudent smirk and followed him out into the corridor.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Of course there was a line stretching nearly around the entire large room that made up the galley that she'd walked to. Lilaena slumped against the bulkhead at the end of the line, trying not to get too close to the other people. Thankfully there were some industrial fans at work somewhere, and the smell was not as bad as it was in other places on the ship.

Two young men entered the galley as well, slipping into line behind her, and she gave the older of the two the barest hint of a smile before shuffling forward as the line moved. She couldn't tell what was being served, but she hoped that it was recognizable as food.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"Well, it looks like we'll be served in time for lunch... tomorrow," he said upon seeing the enormity of the queue.

He also saw the girl smile at him as they joined the back of the queue. It took him by surprise, people were generally too wrapped up in their own woe to take a moment to acknowledge a perfect stranger with a smile, and female attention was more uncommon. He grinned inwardly and occasionally afforded himself a stealthy glance at her while they waited.

"Now don't get carried away once we get served," he muttered, nudging Kale with a grin, "We're on a budget and I know how you are a sucker for caviar."

[Kale]

Cavi-what?

Kale just smiled back and rolled his eyes, and they shuffled through the line with the rest of the cattle. There wasn't a whole lot of choice to be had - some kind of meatloaf, some kind of vegetable casserole, something that may have once been pasta, and then gravy of three different colors (brown, white, and green). Once they had filled their plates and paid their fee, they turned to face the claustrophobic expanse of the dining hall, tables wedged together in long rows with barely any room to squeeze between them. They seemed to have hit a peak lunch hour, and it was hard to see if there were two vacant seats together anywhere in the whole room.

And then Kale finally spotted a pair of open seats - "There, past the Gran family." He forged his way through the shifting masses of sentients and dropped into one of the two empty stools, then looked up and found himself sitting straight across from the dark-haired woman they'd seen when they came in.

Kale gave her a one-sided smile. "Hi."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She looked up from poking at the lump of casserole on her plate to see the two guys from the line sitting down in front of her. Lilaena didn't want to talk, but didn't want to make a scene more. "Hello." She didn't really smile, but let her expression be relaxed.

After a moment it appeared the younger one was up for conversation, so she added, "Any ideas what this is?" She poked the casserole with her utensil again. "It looks like it used to live under the deck plating." Then she did smile.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"We have a strict Don't Ask, Don't Tell policy when it comes to our food," Lorca answered, glancing up from his own plate of something. She had dazzling green eyes.

"It's safer to be ignorant," he said with a smile, and tucked into his meal. Later, in between mouthfuls, he spoke again.

"How are you enjoying your journey?"

[Kale]

Kale certainly wasn't going to ask about the food, and he quickly started shoveling it away before it could tell him anything. Hmm. Maybe the green gravy would make it taste better.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The kid was eating like someone was going to come by and steal his plate. Lilaena watched him in silence for a few moments. She knew what that felt like. Street kid, most likely.

Her eyes tracked to the older one. Brother? There was no family resemblance, though. "I am tolerating the trip," she replied to his question. "I guess if I wanted to enjoy it I should have more credits, right?" She smiled again. The more she made herself smile the more her spirit actually relaxed.

Anyway, these two were distracting her from the meal, which was a disgrace. She took another bite, chewing quickly and trying not to make a face. Washing it down with a swig of water, she said, "And you? A pleasant voyage to Dantooine?"

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"While neither of us don't rate the voyage, we're just happy to get off that foresaken rock."

Kale was an enthusiastic eater, he chewed loudly and when he stopped, like now, it was noticeable. He wasn't entirely sure why he said what he had, Lorca hated small-talk and in that moment attributed it to a lapse in judgement but he was quick to compensate for his slip. He explained.

"The hustle and bustle. The daily struggle. We have family on Dantooine, and Coruscant is unkind to those who, as you say, haven't enough credits."

They had never thought to discuss a backstory on which they both agreed and now it seemed Lorca had decided upon one on the spot. All the while, his expression never faltered, years of experience fooling the authorities had turned him into an effortless liar.

"Even if it is nothing but a load of farmland," he poked at his food and lifted a generous morsel to his mouth, before shovelling it inside he asked conversationally, "So what's your excuse?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Hmmm. What was her story? "Just wandering, to be honest." She pushed her plate aside, half eaten. "Imperial Center is unkind to a lot of different kinds of people. I was just passing through."

She sighed, "I expect I'll catch another transport off of Dantooine after we land. Can't imagine there will be anything there for me. Certainly isn't anyone waiting for me." Lilaena fiddled with her fork, twanging one of the cheap metal tines with her finger.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

The stranger's story left him with a twinge of guilt, often he considered himself unfortunate but at least he wasn't alone, he now had Kale for company and companionship. He wondered how this girl had ended up in such a predicament but the last thing he wanted to do was patronise her with pity.

"You have a nice accent," he said suddenly, "Where are you from?"

[Kale]

Kale could certainly sympathize with that. From the point where Ashe's Jedi starter cell had blown up to the point when he'd been spurred back to Coruscant by those dreams, he'd been very much in the same starship.

He had a momentary suspicion that she was hiding something, but he dismissed it immediately. After all, on this transport, who wasn't?

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"My accent?" Lilaena had to stop and think for a moment. "I was born on Coruscant, but I've been just about everywhere else." She was warming to the idea of small talk, finding it refreshing to have a, relatively, open conversation with people who knew nothing about her. She could feel a bit of sympathy coming towards her from the pair, but beyond surface emotions she did not pry. No need to use the Force in such close quarters.

"I'm not the only person displaced by the Empire and the war with the Alliance," she added. "This ship is proof enough of that." Lilaena gestured to their shipmates, nearly all refugees of the war or people trying to make a new start on another planet.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"Yes. It's funny," he said, with no hint of humour in his voice, "They call it Imperial Center and beneath that shimmering surface it's the poorest place in the galaxy. Is it any wonder we're all running away?"

His spoon fell into the plate with a splat and he slouched in his chair, feeling a little agitated. The topic of conversation was forcing him to mull over matters which would inevitably lower his spirits and he wouldn't allow that to happen. Instead, he thought of the future and grinned.

"First thing I do when we land is get my hands on a pint of fresh piket milk and down it in one. Tastes like nothing else. After that, I think I'll have enough energy to play chuckball for a week. You guys ever played chuckball? It's the best, as long as you don't mind getting a few bruises here and there."

[Kale]

Kale looked at Lorca as if to say are you serious? As if the neighborhood kids didn't already have enough chances to beat the dren out of him...

Something rippled through the cafeteria. Kale didn't know what it was, but it made his stomach clench uncomfortably around the food he'd just swallowed.

"Wait - what's happeni--"

There was a deafening crash, and the lights went black. Laden plates and cups flew off the tables, and anyone who was standing found themselves thrown in the air and pitched to the deck.

Kale slammed hard into Lorca in the dark and grabbed wildly for anything that could stabilize himself. Somehow the grav field had been kicked off its axis, and it was as if the whole deck had been pitched at a thirty-degree angle. The tables were all bolted in place, but the chairs weren't so lucky, and passengers screamed as they slid toward the bow of the ship.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena was already pushing up from the table and looking around when the ship lurched and the grav field shifted, and she fell against the table. She had a firm grip and was not in danger of sliding, but the kid across from her grabbed her shoulders and then her arm, scrabbling for purchase as the ship yawed on its axis.

She pulled on him, getting him into a position where he could pull himself over the edge of the table and to relative safety. The lights were out and the galley was filled with screaming. "What the frak is going on?!"

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"We've been pulled out of hyperspace!" he cried over the appalling din.

His fingers groped at the darkness until he found Kale and was sure that he was secure. While he held fast to the edge of the table, the ship lurched violently once again, its gargantuan metal innards wailed, and he felt the rush of air as people fell past, their cries faded and were lost amongst the chaos. Then there was a deep hum and the lights flickered to light. Lorca dared to look down.

There were people like them clinging desperately to tables while beyond, the far wall was littered with broken bodies. They squirmed and screamed with fright under the weight of bodies and chairs. Their fear crashed down upon him like a great foaming wave, leaving him dizzy and nauseous. He tightened his grip and lifted himself up until his elbows were over the edge of the table. The strangers hair brushed his face. It took a moment of steady breathing to calm himself.

"Okay, in a minute, the ship will right itself and there will be panic. There is a door above- across from us, we'll make for it as soon as possible otherwise we'll be caught in the rush. Understood?"

[Kale]

Getting grabbed in the dark was a startling feeling. When the lights came back on, Kale was shocked to see it was the dark-haired woman who'd lifted him to a safe handhold. Frell, she had a strong grip.

Kale tried to get some purchase on the slanted deck, but his sneakers slipped in a slick of gravy. Nothing to do until -

Gravity took the proper orientation once more, and everyone who'd been bracing against it flailed to regain their balance. But Kale was ready for it and found his feet quickly. "Okay, let's go!"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena frowned, wondering if the two men were including her in their conversation. It didn't seem like it, but then, she wasn't interested in staying any longer in the galley, either.

Of everyone in the room, the three of them had found their footing the fastest, and she picked her way through the chaos to the door the older one had pointed out. She kept behind them, choosing her footing carefully in the mess of food and trays on the ground. People started grabbing at her for balance and pushing and shoving.

A child screamed for its mother, and Lilaena looked in that direction to find the little human girl standing by the wall, red-faced and wailing. There were no adults in the area paying any attention to her. Cursing under her breath, the Dark Jedi waded towards the kid, shoving a panicked Gran down before it could trample the girl.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

Lorca stopped in the doorway and turned to find the stranger lifting a little girl into her arms. The woman had caught Kale in the dark panic moments ago, he wouldn't abandon her now. The ship rocked and there was a distant rumble which was succeeded immediately by a loud, wailing siren. It could mean only one thing. He cried out to her over the noise.

"Hurry! We need to get out of here before - quick!"

Behind her, a surging tide of terrified passengers raced towards them.

[Kale]

Kale just about took off on his own when he heard Lorca yelling back at the lady. What the frell was she doi--

Oh.

"Come on, come on!" he urged her - even though the thundering pandemonium behind her probably made that redundant. Once she'd rejoined them, they clustered together as closely as they could and pushed their way toward the doors before the sentient swarm closed together around them.

But once they'd exited the crowded, panicked cafeteria, they were in a crowded, panicked corridor. Passengers scrambled about trying to find their loved ones, their possessions, other people's possessions. They hurried around a corner and found themselves confronted with another dangerously desperate mob packing the corridor - there was no way through.

Kale looked around frantically and saw a hatch in the wall standing ajar. It was just a maintenance closet - a few vacuum machines, a stack of wastebins, a shelf full of questionable chemicals - but it no one else had found it yet. It was as good a refuge as any.

"Quick! In here!"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The little girl stuck an elbow in Lilaena's face as she scooped her up into her arms, and then sticky fingers in her hair. She tried not to make an angry face at the poor kid, and allowed the two guys from lunch to help guide her to the door. They got out in time, but found the conditions outside the galley were as bad, if not worse, than in the cafeteria due to the cramped space.

There was no way she could set the little girl down, not in this madness, so Lilaena held her close and shoved her way through the panicked crowds. Someone was boarding the transport, probably underneath the big spacecraft. She'd heard the distinctive rumble of a hull being cut through, and the siren of a breach. There was no blaster fire, but it was probably too far away to be heard from where they were.

The Dark Jedi huddled into the maintenance closet, a deactivated cleaning droid digging painfully into her back as the other two entered as well. It was rather claustrophobic, but other than the sniffles of the girl, it was fairly quiet, too. The older of the two kept the hatch opened a crack, looking out in the hallway as folks dashed by in all directions.

No one knew what to do, or where to go. The captain hadn't made any announcements, and the not knowing was annoying. "Might be time for introductions," she said. "I'm Teyla." The lie came easily.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"Lorca," he said, preoccupied with the furor outside.

Again, the ship was rocked by a deep rumble from below and the masses of people in the corridors crashed and surged in unison. Women wailed for the trampled youngsters clinging to their knees and the men lashed out with clenched fists and raking fingers to clear a way through the madness. It was a difficult sight to behold and the fear was infectious. The little girls thick sobs made him uneasy.

"This isn't the Empire. There would be no need for the use of force. My guess is raiders, and if it is..."

He glanced away from the pandemonium to look down at the trio assembled amongst the closet rubble. He left his sentence unfinished and cast his gaze outwards once more.

[Kale]

Kale had half-expected Lorca to give a false name - after all, he'd been on an Imperial wanted poster the first time they'd met. He, on the other hand, was fairly certain no one knew his name or cared.

"They picked a heck of a target," Kale said scornfully. "It's not like there are any fat cats aboard with royal jewels or even loads of credits; this is a bulk transport. Nothin' on this tub except lots and lots... of... people."

He caught Lorca's eyes in the semidarkness. "Aw, frell... slavers?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Slavers? Lilaena absently patted the little girl on the back, using a touch of the Force to calm the girl's wild sobs. "This is not good."

She felt claustrophobic in the small closet, and shoved towards the door. "I have to get out of here."

[Lorca Dawnstone]

Still stood in the doorway, Lorca placed a hand gently on Teyla's arm to stop her advance. He closed in and cast a glance to Kale.

"Patience!" he said in an undertone, "We have to think about this, Teyla. If we run outside now we'll just become lost in the herd. Here we are at an advantage. Now, first of all, are there any escape pods?"

[Kale]

Kale grimaced. "For the crew? Maybe. The captain might have a skiff that can hold a dozen people. No way they've got lifeboats for all the passengers."

Through the ceiling, Kale thought he heard tramping feet and a stacatto burst of blaster fire. He flinched, wishing he at least know what they were up against.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She hesitated, now sandwiched up against Lorca with the girl's leg between them. The child had laid her head on Lilaena's shoulder, light blonde hair covering her face. Aside from the occasional hiccup the girl was completely calm.

As the two men talked, Lilaena heard blaster fire above, and the hallway outside had less traffic than before. "I can't sit here and wait to be culled." She scrambled out of the droid closet, bumped into a running family of Rodians, and hurried down the hallway in the other direction.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"Krast!" he hissed, watching the girl disappear.

From a shelf, he snatched a large hydrospanner which he tucked into his belt and hid beneath his jacket. He patted Kale on the arm.

"Come on, let's go!"

And he left, rushing in the direction Teyla had gone.

[Kale]

"What? Why?"

Unfortunately, Lorca's back didn't seem interested in answering. If Teyla wanted to take her chances outside, that was her business - for all they knew, she could take care of herself just fine.

And Kale just wanted to ride out this storm. But he didn't want to lose Lorca. He plunged after the older adept back into the mob of frightened, angry people - exactly where a teenaged boy with an underfed frame did not want to be.

"Lorca!" he shouted. "Where do you think you're--"

Something clanked noisily in an overhead ventilation duct. Something like a canister. And then, with a venomous hissing sound, a whitish vapor began spewing out of the vents and spreading through the air. People saw it, and the simmering alarm boiled into full-blown panic. Kale found himself driven back away from Lorca as the passengers tried to flee the gas.

Hopelessly cut off, Kale swam through the crowd back to the maintenance closet and forced his way inside again. There was nothing he could do but wait until the flood had abated.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena cornered a human woman with one child tugging on her hand, and handed her the girl in her arms. "I can't find her mother," she said over the noise in the hallway, and the woman nodded, either too shocked to say no or just distracted. "Get to your rooms and stay there."

The woman ran down the passageway, disappearing from sight. Behind her, Lorca caught up to her, looking quite cross. Geez, some people couldn't take a hint. She didn't have time to babysit him and his little friend.

Before she could tell him to get lost, there was a clanking sound and then white smoke started pouring out of the ventilation system. "Krasst," she said, and crouched down close to the floor.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"We've lost Kale," he said, "This is your fault!"

Through the enveloping mist he trudged toward the woman, his eyes were quite wild. She had discarded the child and now she was hunkered down ready to be rendered unconcious in the middle of a corridor. He bristled at the sight, knowing Kale was trapped in the crowd somewhere behind him.

"Hold your breath. This is an anesthetic gas, lying low won't help. Get up!"

As he swept past, he siezed the woman by her garments and dragged her to her feet. If she didn't follow now, she would pass out in seconds. He whipped around a corner and saw that the end of the passage the smoke had cleared.

"This way!" he said to the woman, then called out, "Kale? Kale!"

[Kale]

Kale knew he could hide himself using the Force; he'd done it when the thugs were hunting him and Lorca in the Coruscant undercity. He didn't know how his trick would fare in the middle of a pitched crowd. After all, just because they couldn't see you didn't mean they couldn't trample you in the confusion.

But the gas was thinning things out. Passengers were scrambling over top one another trying to find any sector of the ship that wasn't contaminated, whether it was their quarters, the public lavatory, even an airlock. But if Kale had to guess, the whole deck was full of the stuff. The slavers probably deemed it an economic way to subdue a ship full of three thousand people; they could walk freely among the lazy masses and pick up whoever caught their eye. About half the people in the corridors were already feeling the effects - walking drunkenly, leaning against the walls, or just collapsing in a glassy-eyed stupor. That only made the other half even more desperate. Kale knew that if they could see him and what he was carrying, they'd rip him to pieces.

Then he heard Lorca's voice and rushed his way. He seemed to materialize out of a dense patch fog, waving something plastic in his hand.

"Lorca! Put this on!"

It was a rebreather mask, just a concave plastic shell with a short hose connected to a filter you could clip to your belt. Kale had found a pair of them hanging in the maintenance closet; they were probably there for the cleaning agents that could knock the fur off a bantha at twenty paces. Kale was wearing the other one.

And then he saw Teyla, and just as quickly, he saw they had a problem.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Dizzy, Lilaena tried to get away from Lorca, but he pulled her along quite determinedly. It was taking all her energy to keep from inhaling the gas, so she ended up letting him tow her through the passage.

He'd been right, which grated on her nerves - the gas pooled at the floor instead of staying near the ceiling like smoke would. With the Force, and meditation, she could enter a state that would allow her to breathe quite shallowly and avoid being sent into unconsciousness like the rest of the passengers. But she couldn't meditate with this rube dragging her around.

Catching up to Kale she saw the rebreathers, and also that there were three people and only two filters. She rolled her eyes quite expressively, her lungs starting to burn as a Sullustian collapsed nearby.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

Tension seemed to filter out of his every pore at the sight of Kale's sudden appearance. He took the rebreather and turned, thrusting the cartridge into Teyla's hand, he noticed her grip was limp and quickly snapped the mask around her face.

"Take deep, steady breaths," he said, casting his gaze hastily down the corrdor, "We need to stick together now. We're going to be outnumbered."

He took off again through thick smoke, exhaling very slowly through slightly parted lips. A tall, scrawny man limped into view and clasped desperately at his sleeve. Lorca cast him off as deadweight and marched onward, he called back.

"The gas has been dropped into the ventilation network. We need to find a way up to get out of it!"

[Kale]

Kale tried not to look too aggravated when Lorca turned his mask over to the stranger. He stayed close behind her just in case she tried making a break for it with the rebreather. The emergency lights flashed like strobes in the swirling vapors. and most of the passengers on their deck were already lying in semiconscious heaps.

"There's a stairwell just a little farther up, I think it's the midpoint of the ship," Kale said. "As long as there aren't pirates coming down the other way..."

He saw the strain building on Lorca's face and knew he was running out of air. Dang it, why'd he have to go and be chivalrous, now of all times? Kale took a few deep, slow breaths, then filled his lungs and tore his mask off his face to offer to Lorca.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She accepted the mask, she'd have been a fool not to, but found herself tuning out as the two others talked about where they were headed. Did it really matter where they went? It sounded like they were planning on finding a place to hide.

Not a bad idea, really. But slavers really rubbed her the wrong way. Slavery was a matter of fact in most areas of the galaxy, and she wasn't a one woman crusade to change the universe.

Well... not about social issues, anyway.

But the scum that would travel the stars just to kidnap unsuspecting people and enslave them... Frowning, she turned to see Kale giving Lorca his rebreather.

After a moment she took hers off and held it out to Kale. The gas was thinner in places than others, but as time went on they were becoming the only people still upright in this section of the ship. "And what is your plan if there are pirates coming down the other way?"

She coughed.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"Fight or flight," Lorca called over the monstrous creaking which tore through the ship.

The sounds of survivors were scarce, the last whimpering moans came from somewhere behind. Beneath them were bodies, and gingerly they negotiated a path through them. Lorca took Kale's rebreather and sucked greedily from it, then after his third long drag of air he handed it to the woman, Teyla, figuring they'd established a healthy rotation.

They reached the stairs, which were eerily devoid of traffic, and started their ascent. Overhead, the rotating amber lights stretched their shadows the length of the walls, floor and ceiling. Near the top, Lorca froze and pulled out the hydrospanner he'd concealed earlier. He wielded it like a weapon and held it aloft, ready, staring into the smoke. A man's face appeared, he surged forward and collapsed, his head meeting the first step with a deep thud. Lorca exhaled and lowered his weapon. Then just as he made to step over the fallen passenger, his body was snatched away and slipped behind the veil of grey vapor. Then there were voices, harsh alien voices no more than a few feet away, faint figures moved within the smoke and Lorca's hand instinctively fell flat upon Kale's chest to obstruct his advance.

[Kale]

Kale held his breath, even though he was wearing a mask - he didn't want to risk the telltale click of the rebreather filter giving him away. A frightening thought occurred to him: they couldn't see their attackers in the fog, but how did they know their attackers couldn't see them? They could've been wearing polarizing goggles, or maybe they were aliens that saw a different slice of the light spectrum, and he, Lorca, and Teyla might just be crouching here in plain sight like a little kid covering his eyes to make himself invisible.

Kale's hand closed around his Agedan crystal pendant. Maybe if he reached out through the Force, the way Lorca had instructed him earlier... But how in the flying frell was he supposed to calm himself down enough?

Maybe he didn't need to. Maybe he could channel all that adrenalin into a singular focus, the way he did right before he was planning to rob somebody...

The Force around him stirred, and suddenly, he could see.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena stayed behind her two companions, not because she was afraid, but because it made sense tactically. They wanted to take point; she was willing to let them. When it became obvious that the pirates, or someone, was lurking in the gases that clouded the passage they were in, her hand unconsciously slipped inside her jacket until her fingers brushed against the smooth metal of her lightsaber pommel.

Then Kale did something quite surprising.

She turned and looked at him as she felt the Force whorling around him, her gift of sensing Force ability in others suddenly flashing into affect. How could she had missed it? She couldn't tell what he was doing, but he was definitely using the Force.

Now her companions went from hapless travelers to possible equals. Jedi? Her emotions flip-flopped as she felt desire, and fear at the same time.

[Kale]

But Kale had no idea he'd just given himself away.

The corridor was silent, and Lorca made a move as if to venture to the right, away from the body they'd just seen, but Kale grabbed his jacket, shook his head vehemently, and pointed to the left.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

Lorca was at first confused by Kale's sudden burst of insight but he just as quickly realised what the youngster had accomplished. He nodded and altered course accordingly. They moved steadily and with caution, their eyes paying as much attention to the floor and the bodies strewn across it as they did their surroundings. Kale's judgement was sound, he prompted Lorca with urgency through the thinning smoke and at range, they caught a glimpse of the slavers descending the staircase with oxygen tanks on their backs. It was a relief to know they were alone once more but none of them dared to speak.

Once again, Lorca could feel the uncomfortable tightening in his chest and after fighting off the burning sensation the length of a narrow hallway, he came to a halt before a four-way junction through which ran a broader passage. He turned to Kale, whose eyes flitted around curiously at walls, ceilings and floors. The boy offered him the rebreather, he pressed it to his face, turned and caught half a breath before the face of an emerald-skinned Rodian appeared before him, its enormous bug eyes met his and after a terrible beat of silence, they knew.

The Rodian fired a shot from his blaster pistol, it scorched the floor, the weapon having been deflected by Lorca's hydrospanner. In a flurry of fluid attacks, he disarmed the alien and knocked him to the ground. The blue glow of a stun baton leapt through the smoke, it was parried and coaxed into the wall, along with the grotesque-looking human who wielded it. Lorca held him fast, his elbow pressed against the back of his neck while the stun baton flailed eratically at his side. Already the Rodian had climbed to his feet and the sound of running footsteps approached.

"Kale, hide!" he cried out, and struck a fierce blow with his hydrospanner to the back of the human's head.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena scooped up the blaster that Lorca had knocked from the Rodian's suckered hand, and fired it at the green skinned slaver as he struggled back to his feet. Lorca brained the other slaver with the hydrospanner, and she shot several bolts into the mist in front of them, her breath sounding loud in her ears through the rebreather.

She turned around, grabbed Lorca's shoulder, and pulled him backwards. "We gotta go!"

[Kale]

Kale wasn't sure if Lorca meant finding a hiding place or use the Force - but he didn't see any broom closets nearby, so he threw himself against a wall and vanished like he'd done so many times before.

The human Lorca had struck careened into the wall beside him, and Kale saw in an instant that the slaver was wearing a breathing mask of his own. The slaver never even realized it when his rebreather disappeared, but as he sucked in great lungfuls of gas, he noticed the blinding pain in his head disappearing, and then everything else followed suit, and he slid blissfully to the floor.

Kale strapped on his new rebreather and ran after his companions, and then he realized which direction they were headed.

"Wait, Lorca! This is the way to the bridge, that'll be the first place they hit!'

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"We need to activate the emergency beacon," he called out, his voice muffled through his newly applied rebreather.

The three of them were running at a full sprint now and the fear of what was behind them was matched only by the fear of the unknown lurking in the smoke ahead. In the flashing dark, Lorca felt a hand crunch underneath his boot and he winced with regret.

"They won't expect it," he continued, "And we can be out of the bridge and hidden before they react. Then help will be on the way!"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena shook her head, coughing under the rebreather mask. "We should get out of here."

She looked in the direction Kale had indicated, and added, "The slavers will have a shuttle. Or we can steal their ship."

[Kale]

"Can't we just wait this out?"

Kale glanced back and forth between Lorca and Teyla's faces, and he wasn't encouraged by what he saw in either one.

"We're not going to run out of air, and it's not too hard to find a place to lie low on a ship like this," he said. "We can always set off the beacon when the pirates leave. Look, we're outnumbered stupid to one, and we don't even have any weapons."

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"There are almost three thousand passengers onboard," Lorca shot back them, incredulous, "We cannot abandon them to a life of slavery, hell, they probably spent their last credits getting a ticket on this fracking rubbish barge!"

The more he thought about it, and the more they discussed it, the more adamant he became. He had left behind his life helping the sick in the Last Stand hostel to make a difference, not save his own hide at the first sight of trouble: he was a Jedi. His eyes pleaded with them.

"We have to help them and we have to stick together," he said, his gaze shifted from Kale to the woman, "Teyla, what's your decision. Teyla?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena blinked. Oh. He was talking to her.

"Look, I don't know you two. But if you want to set the beacon, then fine. The kid's right, we can't fight them," well, you can't, I can, "but hiding and waiting for them to get us... not really my style.

"Besides, they'll probably disable the ship. Then any rescuers will be sidelined getting this boat running again, and the trail would be cold." She shook her head, "I'm not getting stuck in the black for a week."

Lilaena took a step, and then turned back, holding up her commlink. "Here, when you set the beacon call, and we can coordinate an escape then. If you want. I'm looking for a ship, though."

[Kale]

Kale scowled and was on the verge of saying nobody found him when he didn't want to be found, but he thought better of it. Anyway, there was something in Teyla's bearing that made him think she could back up her tough talk. Kale still saw the world through the eyes of a thief, and he knew there was no way he'd try picking this woman's pocket.

And then there was Lorca. He looked so desperate to be hero, it made Kale feel guilty by association.

Finally, guilt won out. "Lorca, if you think it's gonna make a difference... I'll come with you. But let's make it quick. As soon as they see the beacon go off, they're gonna come storming in there like a pack of junkyard massifs."

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"Okay," Lorca said with reluctance, and nodded at the woman, "Good luck, and may-"

He frowned, cutting himself off, then shook his head and turned to run down the corridor. There were small red lights lining the floor, no doubt marking an escape route but conveniently leading to the bridge. When they arrived, the heavy blast doors had been wrenched open enough for him to squeeze inside. Sparks errupted from a computer terminal, chasing away the gloom, there were bodies on the floor.

"Okay Kale, we're looking for the emergency, or disaster, beacon activation switch. My guess is it will be a big red button. First one to find it gets a free lunch..."

[Kale]

The bridge was large - needlessly large. Not like the war holos Kale where the capital ships had immense, two-story command centers with dramatic balconies where the captain could stand imperiously over dozens of crew, but there were at least ten active workstations, all of them flashing erratic warnings to an unconscious crew. Kale moved to the nearest station and felt his eyes glaze over at the thicket of switches, knobs, keypads, and monitors. It could've all been in Twi'leki for all the good it did him.

On the other side of the bridge, Lorca had found what appeared to be the communications station. But between the damage to the systems and the outdated interface, it didn't look like he was getting that far.

Kale kept searching and spotted a glowing, red switch at the next station and hurried over to flip it. All he got was a nasty shock.

"Frell!" He jerked away, nursing his hand, and stumbled backward, landing in the captain's chair. He turned and saw Lorca bolt up out of his seat and turn his way.

Kale waved him off. "No, no, I'm fine. I just... I'm not a frackin' star pilot. I feel useless up here."

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"The sooner we launch this beacon, the sooner we can be on our way, buddy," he said, resuming the search.

The distant screech of blaster fire carried throughout the silent ship. Lorca listened intently, gripping the armrests of his chair. The fire fight ended quickly. After a moment, he left the terminal and joined Kale in the heart of the bridge.

"Kale, I want you to listen very carefully. Be wary of the woman, I think there's more to her than meets the eye. Her name certainly isn't Teyla, at the very least, and if we escape with her we need to be on our guard. I have a bad feeling about her."

[Kale]

Kale blinked in surprise. Where in the flying frell had that come from?

"You were the one who didn't want to leave her behind," he pointed out. "Anyway, if she really can get us a ship, I don't think we can be too choosy. I mean, you're already pallin' around with a thief, for cryin' out loud."

Suddenly, he heard his own voice from a couple seconds ago. I'm not a frackin' star pilot...

No, he was a thief. And the Orwell was just one big hotel for the pirates to knock over. So if he were the captain, where would he put a silent alarm?

Kale slid his hand to the underside of the command chair's arm and found his fingers rubbing the rim of a prominent, round button. "Lorca," he said, suddenly serious, "I think I found it."

He took a deep breath and stabbed the button. Immediately the comm. panel started pulsing frantically.

But in the very next breath, a Klaxon thundered through the whole ship - the alarm wasn't as silent as Kale had hoped.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"Oh dear," Lorca sighed, glancing around, exasperated.

"Time to run again," he said, and joined Kale in a dash for the exit.

One after the other, they pushed through the narrow gap in the blast doors, and tumbled out into the corridor. The flashing amber had been replaced by a deep red and all around the siren sounded, it grew, a low ominous groan decks below and a hysterical wail somewhere above. They couldn't hear their feet pound the metal under them as they ran and they paused only when they arrived at a T-junction. Lorca glanced around the corner, and ducked just in time to avoid a barrage of blaster fire which zeroed in on him from both directions. They were showered in golden sparks.

"Dren," he hissed, and turned to Kale, "We need to fall back to the bridge. Now."

[Kale]

Kale's sneakers squealed on the durasteel floor as he backpedaled away from the hail of blaster bolts and ran after Lorca back the way they'd come.

"Wait, the bridge?" he hissed back. "No - Lorca!"

He could hear booted feet tramping toward them. Their attackers would have a bead on them any second now.

"There's only one way in or out, it's a deathtrap!"

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"I know!" he said hotly, clamping Kale's shoulder in his hand. The racing footsteps closed in, his grip eased and he became calm, "I know."

"Disappear," he said, stepping away from the boy, then forcefully, "Disappear! I'll seal myself in the bridge. Go get help. Find Teyla."

He was backing away rapidly now, approaching the bridge, he cried, "Go!"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena had not been idle. She spent a good deal of time locating the pirates' entry point - a bulkhead had been sawed through with a plasma torch from the hull where their ship had latched onto the hapless transport. It was guarded by three of the pirates - a Rodian and two humans.

Was.

Lilaena stepped carefully into the slave ship, her lightsaber glowing as she held it to the side, tip down. Behind her the bodies of the pirates were still warm, the pieces scattered in the passageway. A klaxon wailed, and she picked up the pace, guessing correctly that the two men had been successful with tripping the beacon. Either the slavers would come swarming back to their ship, or they'd try to shut off the beaon first.

Or both. Lilaena rounded a corner and found the cages. Her eyes darkened.

[Kale]

Danger was approaching, and Kale's options were quickly dwindling. He shot one last look at Lorca, saw his own fear mirrored in the older adept's eyes, and he did what came naturally to him.

The pirates came charging around the corner a split-second later, dividing like a river around an unseen obstruction. Kale, not invisible, but thoroughly unnoticeable, stood breathless as they passed, watched them crash against the closing bridge door. A blaster bolt ricocheted off the hatch's magnetic seal and whizzed by his head.

The pirates were attacking the hatch with some sort of crowbar, raising more than enough racket to cover his retreating footsteps as he ran away down the corridor.

Find Teyla. Find one woman on a ship of three thousand. Okay, so maybe only fifty of them were still moving, but forty-seven of those were pirates trying to kill him.

Kale skidded to a halt and pressed himself against a wall as a musclebound Gran thundered by with what looked like a pack of charges. If they blasted through the door, there might not be anything left of Lorca to rescue.

Unconsciously, his hand drifted up to his chest again, to the crystal resting there underneath his shirt, and he heard it - the voice he'd heard so often in his dreams.

Use the Force, Kale. Find her. Let your feelings lead you to her.

The hair prickled at the back of his neck. He didn't want to be hearing thoughts that weren't his own inside his head. But for the moment he didn't have a better plan than the one his mo--

Than the one he'd just thought of. Frell, I really am going crazy.

Gripping the crystal hard, Kale closed his eyes and reached out with his feelings into the tapestry of the Force.