Those Long Gone And The Ghosts They Leave Behind

[Barton Henning]

It was a strange time aboard the Wheel. Little more than two days ago, a great many of the Jedi had departed the convoy aboard the freighter Layla bound for the Core. What they had left behind was a ship that felt far emptier than it should have, given how few in number they were to begin with. For those who had been left behind, for whatever reason, it was a strange and sobering experience.

Barton had stood on the observation deck, looking out at the stars and wondering what would become of Navaria, Loki, Daria and all of the others. Well-meaning, Solomon had opened the invitation to Henning to come along, but he'd reasoned that someone had to stay behind. He was duty-bound to the Wheel and perhaps now, more than ever, he felt that this was where he was supposed to be.

There was only so long he could stand and do nothing, however. Before long, long strides were carrying Captain Henning back to the cargo bay of the Whaladon where he knew there would be – as ever – Jedi taking in training. For the young Jedi whose masters were temporarily absent, this was a particularly trying time as they tried to adhere to their life of discipline without the whip-crack of their masters voices to keep them in line. Yet as he strode onto the deck, it was not the sight of padawan's in the midst of their daily exercise routine that greeted him. There was a huddle of bodies clustered in one of the hangar bay's corners, in the shadow of a little-used shuttle. Barton cocked his head to one side and started towards them.

[Cleo Némain]

"Dun botha'"

Sitting along one of the walls was Cleo, seemingly keeping to herself, fidgeting as per normal, a small bag in her lap. She'd watched the Captain enter and start to approach the group of Padawans, the questioning look he carried being obvious and rather than perhaps clamming the group up or sending them scattering off trying to look busy, Cleo thought she'd stop him.

"Only gonna make 'em think they should be doin' somethin' they aint. Nah you're faul', they jus' think ofya assa some sorta 'thority."

Her hands lifted from her lap, revealing that she was holding two small metal sticks, and trailing from that was fabric with stripes in colors that may very well have been visible from nearby ships, if not planets.

"They're alla kin's of upset anyways. Anna tis nah 'bout their Masters goin' and leavin' and maybe ne'er comin' back."

[Darth Acera]

"I bet it was a space slug!"

"Nuh uuhhh, I heard that it was a vampire rancor, and it sucked all his blood out!"

The huddle of padawans was a tight affair, the small group circled around one of the older students - Jamis Kerr - who sat cross-legged in the middle of the gaggle of children.

Jamis shook his head at the two voices who'd spoken up.

"Wasn't any of those things," he corrected, his voice dropping in volume and his eyes narrowing. The younglings all leaned in, eyes wide, mouths open, desperate to know what Jamis knew.

He paused a little for effect, then went on.

"I overheard one of the other knights say that it was a space pirate. An undead space pirate."

One of the younglings, a little togruta girl, stifled a yelp, clamping her mouth shut. Jamis snapped his head to look at her, and his hands came up to make rings around his eyes.

"They said 'e had glowing green eyes - "

Another muffled squeeal, as the girl clapped both hands to her mouth. Jamis leaned forward, coming a little closer to her.

" - and claws for fingernails so that he could get to the brain easier and eat it!"

That was the last that the poor togruta youngling could take, and throwing her arms up in the air, she latched onto the padawan beside her, wailing in fright.

[Barton Henning]

They were all so wrapped up in Jamis Kerr's tall-tales that not one of them noticed Barton's approach until his shadow fell over the group. One of them yelped. He glanced back at Cleo, who was watching him with a look that screamed: I told you so. The boy Kerr was frowning up at him in typical adolescent defiance.

“What's all the commotion over here?”

[Darth Acera]

Jamis looked up defiantly at Mr. Henning, and slowly he crossed his arms over his chest.

"We were just talking."

The boy shot a frown to the others, more notably to the little Togruta before craning his neck back up to meet Mr. Henning's eyes.

"Nothin' wrong with that."

[Akasha Khan]

"They're talking about the ghost," Akasha said. She sat on a crate in the deep shadows behind the gaggle of younglings, a shade of slightly darker black except for the burning yellow-green of her eyes. Her Echani staff was in her paw, opening and closing, opening and closing, like a bored tic.

"The one that eats younglings. The one that killed Merran Threl and Lucentia Pavan."

She looked squarely into Barton's eyes, knowing full well that the Jedi didn't want such things spoken in the open air. Her staff opened and closed again, like a breathing creature.

[Cleo Némain]

A small bit of tsking came from Cleo, her eyes remaining on the overly brightly colored bit of scarf she was still creating. It wasn't that she disagreed with what the other one had said, it was more of...

A finger was brought to her lips. "Spoilers..."

The younglings had looked positively horrified that anyone would even mention the name of the two missing from their brood, their eyes locked onto the black furred apprentice. Those who had glimpsed over at Cleo were only met with a small smirk before she stuck her tongue out at them.

In a sudden huff she shoved the two metal sticks and the fabric back into the small draw-string bag before getting to her feet and slinging it over her shoulder. Her steps towards Barton were as erratic as the rest of her movements.

"Bad stories, nah to'ally righ', bu' nah all wrongish." Her hand pointed over at the figure in the wall, strangely pointing directly at the Echani staff rather than the wielder. "Tha' one knows."

[Barton Henning]

It was no good telling them there was no such thing as ghosts, especially not Master Hicchoru himself was said to speak to the dead. The benevolent spirits of departed Jedi were a different kettle of Mon Cal to what the youngling's were squabbling over, however.

“And this ghost lives aboard the Wheel, does it?” Barton asked, glancing from Cleo back to the feline's gleaming yellow eyes.

[Akasha Khan]

"Or follows it around," Akasha replied, sliding off the crate and stepping into the light. "Threl was on the Whaladon when the Imperials attacked us. Then we jumped away, and he was gone. And Pavan was on Beskarn, less than a kilometer away from her master."

The Orryxian looked across the gaggle of younglings as if they didn't even exist and found Cleo's eyes. "Did they even find her body?"

[Darth Acera]

Jamis was quick to his feet, turning on Akasha with the glint of forbidden knowledge in his eyes.

"I heard two of the masters talk of finding it, but they didn'a bring it back."

His chin jutted forward, arms stiff at his sides and hands balled into fists, as if daring the Orryxian to challenge him.

"I heard them whispering about how she'd been dragged up into the trees and hung by her feet."

One of the younglings gasped, another whimpered. The rest all stared up at Jamis with open mouths.

[Inyos Aamoran]

Inyos had reminded himself in advance that the bay would be near deserted with so few of the senior Jedi left on the Wheel; it caught him by surprise then to discover that said preconception was false. A frown was brought to his face as he observed a small gathering of young Jedi, huddled in the corner where the deck crews had tucked his shuttle. He sighed a little at the irony that, only a few weeks after he'd agreed to the placement, and informed the technician that I do not have anywhere else to be, he of course needed to access his shuttle.

His ears picked up the youngling's conversation as he approached. A note of frustration sparked in his mind as he realised they were speculating over ghost stories; those always exasperated him, particularly when the spook or spectre left no survivors. How then did the stories propogate, if there was no one to convey the details?

He kept his thoughts to himself however, eyes meeting with those of Captain Henning as he exchanged a brief nod of greeting with his fellow adult. He listened, arms folding loosely across his body as young Jamis Kerr informed the group of where the body had supposedly been found; his eyebrows climbed up his forehead in reaction.

"Hung from a tree?" he echoed, voice deadpan. "Most intreguing. I hear that Wookiees display their defeated enemies in much the same way." His gaze dropped unwaveringly onto Jamis. "Did these two masters make mention of whether her arms were still in their sockets, per chance?"

[Barton Henning]

Henning folded his arms over his chest. It was no secret that two young Jedi had gone missing under mysterious circumstances. Barton had not been familiar with Threl or Pavan, but he knew all too well how it felt to be amongst a herd of younglings that was suddenly beginning to thin. Had they been ordinary children, he could hardly have held their fear against them - but they were not.

“Padawan Kerr, what is the second line of the Jedi code?”

[Darth Acera]

He knew that tone of voice, and the challenge in his eyes diminished somewhat while giving a suddenly nervous glance back to Mr. Henning.

"I, um... "

His arms came down to rest at his sides, hands balling into fists as he looked to the deck.

"There is no ignorance, there is knowledge."

[Barton Henning]

The desire effect was immediate. It wasn't his job, or place, to chastise the boy but if he was sowing the seeds of fear amongst the other younglings – well, Barton couldn't stand by and watch that happen. Even if there was a grain of truth in it.

“And what do you know about all of this – real knowledge, I mean. Not just bits and pieces you've cobbled together from whispered gossip.”

[Akasha Khan]

"Oh, gosh, I guess we don't know anything," Akasha said, putting a paw to her chin. "Except, of course, that two Padawans disappeared out from under the noses of their masters, and now the knights won't tell us what happened. Thanks, Mr. Henning, I feel safer already."

She glared back at Henning in acrid defiance.

[The Padawan Eater]

One could find shadows anywhere, even in brightly lit rooms. Things that simply seemed wrong could easily hide if they so chose, and their presence they could mask until the desire to unfurl wings of fear drove them out. They could stifle their surroundings with whatever dark emotion they wished, blotting out even the brightest of illuminations - whether natural or otherwise.

Sometimes such fears were simply imagined, brought to life by the mind's own ill-informed perceptions and what it tries to bury deep inside.

But, other times, those fears are born of something very real.

Two eyes watched, safe in the darkness provided by a far corner of the hangar. They watched, and they waited. They were ever so patient, and the fear that was spreading out from the ring of Padawans was substantial. Sweeter than Ithorian honeyflower it was. It was delightful.

The two eyes watched, and the hunger began to grow.

[Cleo Némain]

Everyone had to be so serious, and Captain Barty went and made himself seem all scary to the youngish ones again, it was more than Cleo could take. Everyone was so glum. Not that they should have been happy about two Padawans going missing, but Cleo knew that sometimes people just wandered, got lost, got misplaced.

Captain Barty was proving no fun, the snarky kitty lady wasn't much better and the youngins, well, they were young. Not like the other guy who had gone and joked and talked about Wookiees hanging people from trees. Cleo figured if bad things were happening, and she suspected they really were but she didn't quite want to admit that sort of thing, then the people who were already thinking the worst weren't going to find out anything. They'd run in circles, quoting scriptures and listening to ghost stories.

She looked back at the Wookiee-Story-Teller and then swayed back and forth just enough to make herself feel like if she did it fast enough she would soon be putting herself in circles.

"Well... why dun' we go an fin' ou'? Standin' 'ere anna lookin' a' each otha' alla dumb-like aint gonna fix nothin'."

Not that Cleo knew where to go... but one thing was for sure, leaving the hanger was going to be better than standing around. It would make that feeling like they were all being watched go away at least. Or, at least, Cleo hoped it would.

[Barton Henning]

Barton nodded at Cleo. “That's the point. What you – and I – know right now amounts to a whole lot of nothing so talking about it, worrying about it, doesn't achieve anything.”

He glanced at Akasha and hoped the girl wasn't, for some unknown reason besides the fact that she was evidently inheriting her masters candid manner of speech, hell-bent on stirring the pot. “Maybe we can find some clues aboard the ship, and you all can put together a report to give to the Council when they get back.”

[Akasha Khan]

Aha, now they were getting somewhere! Akasha grinned broadly, showing an array of undoubtedly predatory fangs.

"Great! Let's go on a ghost hunt!" Without hesitation, she looked straight at Jamis Kerr. "You seem to be the expert here. Let's team up and see what we can find."

[Cleo Némain]

She didn't say anything at first, merely clapped her hands together and let the look of excitement over the whole thing take over. While she wasn't so sure on Captain Barty's idea that you all can put together a report... He seemed the most respectable out of the lot and so he would probably be the best one to do the reporting... but it didn't matter. They were going on an adventure of sorts, right here on The Wheel!

With the younglin dubbed as their scout thing (which made Cleo question the kitty lady all the more than she already did...she was all cloudy looking anyway. Not bright like the others. But then again, it wasn't like the younglings were all shiny bright spots either. Maybe the kitty just hadn't started to glow yet like they hadn't.) and Captain Barty in the position of seemingly self-appointed fuddy-duddy, Cleo wasn't sure what kind of team they were going to be. They needed one more.

That left the more-glowy-than-the-rest-Wookiee-story-teller.

Who was looking over his shuttle and seemed to have no want to go on a ghost-hunt. Tough. Cleo had already decided.

The young woman quickly made her way over to his side, peered at the shuttle, then back at him.

"Yer comin' alsa. Four dun go an' make a team, fi' does."

She held up her hand, fingers splayed out as if that simple gesture explained everything.

"'Sides, iffin there issa ghos' orra monsta' orra somethin' else-like. Gonna need someone ta be able ta act'lly do somthin' bou' it, righ'?"

[The Padawan Eater]

Jamis' eyes lit up, but not because of the thought of any sort of adventure - no. He was only interested in more stories to scare the younger ones with. In any event, it was obvious that Akasha was more than willing to search out their 'Padawan Eater', and he was ready to oblige.

He gave a sneer to the Orryxian.

"You sure you wanna?"

[Akasha Khan]

Akasha saw his sneer and raised him a predaceous grin. "Do I look like a frightened youngling to you?"

The Orryxian slipped her Echani staff into its holster on her belt and turned to face the balance of their ghost-hunting party - Captain Glumface, the Wookiee expert, and the impish young woman with the accent Akasha couldn't decipher. "So, what do you think the scariest part of the ship is? I say engine room. Plenty of room for a ghost there. What say we split up? Jamis and me in one party, you three on the other, and we'll use commlinks if anything shows up."

[Barton Henning]

Barton's gaze followed Cleo as she stomped her way over to Inyos, then he tracked his eyes back to Akasha and Jamis who were already practically rubbing their hands together with glee at the thought of the ghost-hunt. Let them wander a while, Henning thought. It would do them good to have some purpose and their absence would give the rest of the youngling's a chance to formulate some opinions of their own, hopefully.

“Alright. We'll meet up again in an hour and a half. That should be plenty of time. Right, Cleo?”

[Jamis Kerr]

Jamis moved to stand beside Akasha, his eyes glinting with the thought of her challenge. He smiled a thin-lipped, almost wicked grin as his head angled down.

"Engine room is all well and good," he spoke quietly. "But if you're so sure it's ghosts, I think it'd be better to start looking in that airlock."

She would know which airlock he was referring to - the airlock that was still slightly colored with Merran Threl's blood. The airlock where Merran Threl had most assuredly died. Jamis was beyond certain that Merran had met his end there. He'd had a glimpse of the blood before the cleaning droids did the best they could, and if you looked hard enough, you could still see it.

Despite all of the cleaning agents that'd been used, you could still see it.

[Akasha Khan]

"If you like. Maybe we'll find a trail we can follow."

Though she very much doubted it. In fact, she very much doubted they'd find anything the Jedi had not already found.

Akasha's tail whisked back and forth as she walked alongside Jamis away from the cluster of Jedi and out of earshot. "I heard that one of the knights has seen ghosts of old Jedi masters on the observation deck," she said. "What if they're not alone? There could be a Sith ghost hiding here as well."

She didn't really believe it was true. But even as she said it, she felt a cold ache from the scar over her heart where the orbalisk had bitten her weeks ago.

[Jamis Kerr]

He'd heard about the Jedi that could see spirits as well, but had only ever glimpsed the man walking the halls and not much else. He'd certainly not talked to him.

"I've seen him, but I haven't seen the spirits he talks to."

It was kind of strange, talking to Akasha as they walked. He was acutely aware of her tail, and had to resist the urge to reach out with the Force and give it a little tug. At least, not now, when it would be obvious he was the culprit. In fact, doing just that would give her a good scare, he'd be willing to bet.

Jamis gave her a wicked sideways grin that held a healthy amount of teasing.

"My Uncle Chen had a whisperkit that used to stare at nothing, so we always figured he was starin' at ghosts and spirits. If either one of us is gonna be seeing that stuff, my credits are on you, so keep your eyes open."

[The Padawan Eater]

The airlock that Merran Threl had met his end in, on the surface, looked exactly the same as every other airlock on the Whaladon. It was sterile, smelled faintly of cleanliness and that tinny strangeness that was associated with metal, and was brightly lit. There was no trace of the carnage that had occurred as the cleaning droids had done well to scrub every inch before deeming it usable once more.

But, every Padawan knew better than to think it was really and truly clean. Some said that they could still see the blood no matter how faint it was, and some claimed to hear voices whispering whenever they passed by. All however, swore up and down that the shadows in that airlock had come alive. It never mattered if the glowpanels were at their brightest - the shadows were still there and waiting for their next victim. 'They would reach out and grab you if you weren't careful' was how the story went. 'They grabbed Merran, and sucked his life-blood out before consuming his body entirely'. The shadows never went away now, and they waited patiently.

Which was the partial truth. The shadows, far from being a living entity, were merely a safe haven. They were a creation of twisted desire and unholy obedience to an evil that was larger than any could have imagined.

The Padawan Eater, they had called the thing. It was an amusing name, and one that the monster now among them rather fancied.

She waited for the two, knowing the urges of adolescent curiosity and what such things could drive a youngling to do. She was a shadow; patient and cruel, wicked and twisted.

She had fed amply upon the fear of Merran Threl and Lucentia Pavan, but theirs had been fleeting. Now she desired something more sustained... something that built upon itself in a terrible cycle. She desired true terror, and the boy and the Orryxian girl would give it to her.

[Akasha Khan]

The Orryxians were not spacefaring people - the noble ones, anyway. Space was cold and dark and deadly and full of aliens. Why would anyone want to go there if they had any other option? So even though Akasha had learned about space travel on her past few months on The Wheel than she had in her first eight years of existence, she still looked on it as a necessary evil, a mere case of bad planning that all the interesting places in the universe were separated by such a vast gulf of nothingness. For all her bravado, she didn't like being reminded of the fact.

The black-furred feline looked over the outer door of the airlock with some distaste. There were lockers on either side of it with rebreathers and emergency pressure suits, and beyond it was a room roughly the size of her quarters, then another durasteel hatch with a window out to the inky blackness of space.

Akasha sniffed and wrinkled her nose at the musty scent of the bulkheads. "I don't know how to open the inner door," she said.

[Jamis Kerr]

This made Jamis look at her as though she'd just proclaimed herself empress of the universe and all things insectoid. One eye squinted almost shut, and a corner of his mouth twisted upward, his nose scrunching just a little.

"You're kidding me."

Was she that dense?

Jamis gave a haughty sniff, tilted his head away from her, and brushed past her with not a little bit of distaste, nudging her slightly in the shoulder as he moved to the locking panel. His hand closed around a release lever, and twisting it counter-clockwise, the hissing release of locked hydrolics filled the air. It was almost an ominous sound, and Jamis let his imagination take him to those few seconds before Merran's body was sucked out; when the 'ghost' had stood where the two padawans now were. He wondered what it'd looked like as Merran was pulled out through the airlock and into space.

It was the sound of the heavy door rolling to a stop that brought him back to the present however, and Jamis looked to Akasha with all the trappings of superiority.

"It's easy."

[Akasha Khan]

Now there was one layer of processed metal between them and decompressive doom. Outwardly, Akasha was as placid as a lake in the Kriyya Heights, except for her tail, which lashed like a pit viper. She leaned in through the threshold of the airlock and looked around.

"Well," she said archly, "I don't see any ghosts here. I don't smell any, either."

[Jamis Kerr]

Jamis rolled his eyes, and his shoulders sagged a little as he looked up and off into the distance.

"Well that's cause you're not in there."

And without warning, the boy bulled into the Oryxxian, sending the both of them past the inner door's threshold.

[Akasha Khan]

"Gah!"

Akasha went stumbling forward and careened straight into the outer door. It was, to her surprise, not cold but warm to the touch - the skin of the Whaladon was bright with waste heat, and the shock of having her expectations subverted made it feel as though her paws were burning. The Orryxian hissed and skittered back against the wall of the airlock, ears splayed and tail puffed like a bottle brush.

"What in Maiur's mane was that for?" she snarled at the idiot boy.

[Jamis Kerr]

Jamis gave her a nasty grin, turning on his heel to begin his inspection of the airlock's interior.

"You were being a scared little cat," he teased.

He knelt down, examining the deckplates, and running a finger over the metal surface, gave a frown. His finger, upon careful scrutinizing, yielded no dried blood whatsoever. A little disappointed, he looked impatiently to Akasha.

[Akasha Khan]

"I'm being cautious around a fates-damned portal to the abyss, and there's a difference," Akasha groused. "And, no, there's no blood on the floor. I would have told you that if you'd given me a chance."

Akasha rubbed her arms - even in the heat glow of the outer hull, she felt an inexplicable chill in the air. "I think we should try the engine room."

[The Padawan Eater]

The ethereal tendrils of a terrible consciousness reached out, willing the handle of the locking mechanism to turn.

... and the inner door rolled itself back, shutting the two padawans in the airlock.

Alone.

[Akasha Khan]

The subtle click of the safety pins retracting sounded like a blaster shot in Akasha's ears. She wheeled around and, mindless of Jamis, lunged for the rapidly shrinking opening of the airlock door. She thrust her paw through, but the sensor that was meant to stop limbs getting chopped off didn't engage, and the sickening precognition of her own bloody stump of a wrist was enough to make her jerk it back again before the door rammed home.

She turned on Jamis, making no pretense of hiding her wild-eyed fear now. "Jamis! What in hell's teeth are you doing now?"

[Jamis Kerr]

Jamis was wide-eyed, staggering up to his feet in shock.

"It wasn't me!"

Denial was a normal defensive mechanism for him, and often not entirely true. Yet now, in this very moment, it was.

"I didn't do anything!"

His breathing quickened, and in a few short steps the boy was standing beside Akasha, both hands going out to slap against the door. Of course it wouldn't budge, and with a quick look to the inner opening panel, he moved to turn the handle that would open the door from the inside.

It didn't move.

Again he turned it, and again nothing happened.

Frantic now, Jamis turned to look at Akasha, real fear creeping into his eyes.

"I can't open it," he whispered.

[Akasha Khan]

Akasha's claws came out, large enough even to give a wookiee pause. "Jamis, Maiur help you if you're making fun of me..."

But his fear was genuine. She could smell that, and the little pit of darkness the orbalisk had left in her heart could sense it, too. The Orryxian closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. For Jamis, fear was a toxin, but for he, it was a source of strength.

"Whatever. Either we can open it or we can't. There must be an emergency comm panel in here. We can just call for help and someone will let us out."

She opened her eyes again and skewered the boy with a venomous glare. "But I'm telling them this is your fault."

[The Padawan Eater]

Their fear was like an intoxicating elixir that was wondrous to partake of, and a faint laugh danced about the interior of the airlock like some mocking tune.

Midway through, the lights blinked out and cast the two into a darkness that was absolute.

[Jamis Kerr]

For a few brief seconds Jamis stood frozen, his eyes blinking madly as they were plunged into an inky blackness that brought with it a psychological chill.

Whatever false bravado he'd managed to muster vanished then, and he screamed.

[Akasha Khan]

In the close confines of the airlock, Jamis's scream was a diamond drill into both of Akasha's eardrums. She responded in the only way she knew how - with a stiff right hook into his jaw.

"Damn it! Hold yourself together, will you? I can still see fine!"

Which wasn't entirely true, but there was a dim glow of emergency lighting from beyond the airlock's inner door that cast a dull glow into the chamber, enough to see the edges of things with her feline night vision.

"Maiur's eyes, it's just the dark."

[Jamis Kerr]

Taken by complete surprise, Jamis stumbled back, his hands going up to cradle his jaw. He whimpered a little, sniffed, then stood up straighter. Like any bully worth his or her salt, the boy puffed out his chest, denying any bit of his previous fright.

"I know it's just the dark," his voice was muted slightly from behind his hands which were soon enough brought away from his face.

He popped his neck.

"You see any ghosts now?"

[Akasha Khan]

"No," Akasha said. "It's just an airlock. That's what I've been telling..."

And then something tugged at the leylines in the Force surrounding her, like a spider testing her web.

"Wait. No, I sense something. A presence in the Force."

It... it was Jedi. Had to be. Someone was walking out in the corridor, probably checking up on the power failure.

Akasha stepped up to the inner door and pounded on it. "Hey!" she shouted. "Hey, we're trapped in here, let us out!"

[The Padawan Eater]

A slender finger traced along the small window of the inner door in front of the Oryxxian's face. It belonged to a body unseen.

'And why should I do that, Frightened One,' came a cold, smooth voice that only Akasha could hear in her mind's eye.

[Akasha Khan]

Akasha jerked back away from the door, straight into Jamis who'd crowded in for a better look, and both went crashing into a painful heap.

"Frack!" It wasn't an Orryxian curse, but somehow it seemed to fit the situation better. "Don't tell me you didn't hear that!"

[Jamis Kerr]

"Hear what," the boy growled from his tangled position.

He squirmed a little, pulling himself away from Akasha. She was heavier than she looked, and with one last jerk Jamis broke free. He rested on his knees, giving her an acidic glare in the darkness.

"I don't hear anything."

[The Padawan Eater]

"... because his mind is not open to hearing the dead."

The voice broke into Akasha's thoughts with ease, its' whispered words nestling deep into whatever fear they could stir up.

[Akasha Khan]

Akasha froze where she lay - an image of a dark hood with a pale chin and blood-red lips flashed before her mind, and her ears flattened against her skull, pounding with blood. A low growl bubbled in her throat.

"Idesca," she said, and it might as well have been another curse. The scar from the orbalisk bite puckered on her chest.

[Idesca Corvera]

The air chilled at the uttered name, and the smallest of breezes brushed past Akasha, kissing the dark fur of the Orryxian's neck before moving past both padawans and toward the airlock door...

... where a form began to coalesce, writhing itself into a shape that rose and fell as though on a wave.

[Jamis Kerr]

He could see his breath, coming out in puffed clouds in front of his face, and Jamis felt his heart speed up. It thumped wildly in his chest, beating faster with each degree the temperature seemed to drop. He was frozen where he stood, staring wide-eyed at Akasha with panic and terror in his eyes and abject fear welling up from the pit of his stomach.

It took forever to muster the courage needed to turn his head, eyes tracking along the bulkhead walls toward the outer airlock door and the roiling black creature taking shape.

But it wasn't the twisting mass that caught his breath in his throat. It was the blood that began slowly seeping down from the top edges of the sealed airlock - first in thin rivulets, then in larger, streaming trails that covered the metal paneling. It dripped over rivets and pooled into recesses, coating the entire outer door on its' way down to the decking.

[Akasha Khan]

Ears pressed flat against her skull, fangs bared and golden eyes wide with fear and spitting rage, Akasha resembled a snake as much as a cat. She crouched low, claws unsheathed, looking for a way to spring. But there was nowhere to go.

"You're not real," the Orryxian growled. "You're dead! I saw your head fall to the ground!"

[Idesca Corvera]

There was a gurgled laugh, beginning low and twisting about itself like the continuous shifting form it belonged to. Two pinpricks of glowing red blinked into existence, resting in pooled sockets of inky blackness that were set in what had to be the thing's head.

The writhing mass rose, towering over the two padawans.

"You saw what I wanted you to see," it hissed savagely in a voice made up of many.

The hiss became another mangled laugh as the thing lunged forward, shadowy arms raised, and bony fingertips whittled into points meant to rend flesh.

[Akasha Khan]

Fear and hate waged a little war inside Akasha, but with her claws out and her teeth bared, hate won out. A feral snarl bubbled from he throat, and she lunged back at Idesca's apparition, fully intent on disemboweling her even if it meant taking a few scratches from those silly bone-nails -

The ghost rippled around her like a cloud of smoke, and Akasha hit the outer airlock door with a resounding CLONK before falling in a heap to the deck.

[Jamis Kerr]

For his part, Jamis gave another resonating screech, tumbling backwards as the writhing mass passed through Akasha, its' enraged howling filling the air even as the creature dissipated, ebbing away into nothing.

The lights snapped back on.

Huddled into the farthest corner, Jamis whimpered, peeking one eye open.

There was no blood.

The cold was gone.

Everything was normal, as if the last few minutes hadn't ever happened. The airlock looked just as it had when they'd first stepped inside.

His single eye roved about, eventually falling on the still, black-furred form of his companion.

It took a supreme amount of courage, but his voice finally returned enough for him to venture a whisper.

"... Akasha... ?"

[Akasha Khan]

Akasha's tail twitched. Then her paws curled, and she tenderly reached one of them to rub a swelling knot on her forehead. "Maiur's sodding oooowwwwww..."

The Orryxian stirred and managed to lift herself to her paws and knees. She slowly turned to face her pusillanimous companion. "What did I tell you? Not real. Fat load of help you were."

[Jamis Kerr]

A measure of his cockiness came back, and Jamis lowered his hands down to place them palm-down on the deck to lever himself forward and onto his knees.

"If it wasn't real," he angrily grumbled in response, "... what'd you run head first into the door for."

[Akasha Khan]

"Because... because shut up," Akasha replied, and she brought herself unsteadily to her knees, still pressing the back of her paw against her aching head. "It was a trick. Which means someone played it on us. I don't like being made to look a fool!"

She stood, which turned out to be a mistake, as her sense of up and down still needed some revision. The Orryxian overbalanced straight into Jamis.

[Jamis Kerr]

He only had enough time to make a face as Akasha fell into him, sending the both of them back down to the deck in a pile of limbs.

"Hey watch it!"

She was heavier than she looked was his first though, and the second was that she indeed had a rather impressive goose-egg right smack in the middle of her forehead.

Coupled with the adrenaline of their recent experience and the sight itself, he couldn't help the crooked smile and little snicker that escaped despite her proximity.

[Akasha Khan]

With a petulant growl, Akasha pushed herself upright, slapping a paw against the wall on her way up, and she was startled by a hissing and grinding noise that sent her backpedaling against the opposite wall. And then she realized it was only the inner airlock door wheeling open again. By chance she'd hit the door control, which apparently was working now.

"All right, someone is making fun of us," she grumbled. "Are you going to sit there cackling, or are you going to help me track them down?"

With a snap of her tail, she stalked out of the airlock, not really caring whether Jamis followed her or not. Maybe she could lock him in. Probably would serve him right for... something.

Akasha winced a the throbbing pain her head and reached down to pluck her fighting staff from her belt. She would not be surprised again!

[Jamis Kerr]

Still chuckling, Jamis turned over, levering himself up to his knees first, then up to his feet. Half-stumbling out through the door's threshold and still a bit heady from the excitement of his previous fears, he reached out to give Akasha's ear a little flick.

"We're still alive, Fluffball," he grinned cheekily.

"And now we can say we saw the ghost. What'd you call it again? Idesca?"

Moving up so that he was walking beside her, he went on.

"Who's Idesca?"

[Akasha Khan]

Akasha moved with purpose toward the engine room. Why? She didn't really expect to find a rogue Sith lord there, even if that was where she had last contacted Master De'Ville. But she was angry, and it felt good to move her feet, and that was reason enough.

She considered ignoring Jamis's question, but that would be petty, even by the standards of a boy who flicked ears just because they stuck out a little more than those silly, fleshy primate lobes. All the same, she wasn't thrilled about bringing her up again.

"Idesca Corvera," Akasha replied. "I met her on Lethe. She's... she was... a Sith witch."

The Orryxian ducked through one of the dozens of needlessly narrow hatchways that separated the Whaladon's major sections, grateful that the cramped quarters meant she didn't have to watch Jamis's face as she added, "She set an orbalisk on me."

[Jamis Kerr]

"Orbalisk. Huh."

Of course, Jamis didn't really know what an orbalisk was, but it didn't stop him from trying to sound like he did.

"So you met a Sith witch - "

He swatted at Akasha's tail as he followed behind her, suspecting that she was purposefully flicking it in his face.

" - on Lethe."

Continuing on through the seldom used passageways of Whaladon's innards, Jamis couldn't help but frown.

"How do I know you're not the one who did all that back there? For all I know, this Idesca Corvera could've taken possession of you without you knowing it, and made you kill Lucentia and Merran."

[Akasha Khan]

Akasha emerged into an open compartment and glanced back over her shoulder to give Jamis a look of unmitigated disgust. "Don't be an idiot," she said. "Sith don't possess people."

[Jamis Kerr]

"Oh? And how do you know that?"

Jamis returned her look with one of his own, coming to a stop and placing his hands on his hips.

"For all I know, I'm talking to Idesca Corvera right now."

[Akasha Khan]

Akasha rolled her eyes theatrically. "And for all I know, I'm talking to a brainless shapeshifting fungus impersonating a Jedi padawan. Idesca is dead. Her head fell there, and her body went over there.I don't know what I saw in the airlock, but it wasn't her."

She whirled back down the corridor and found herself on one leg of a T-junction around a bank of enormous battery modules, their crowns lost in a viper's nest of cables and conduits. "Besides, Merran was killed before we visited Lethe. She couldn't have been behind it anyway. Unless Sith can also travel through time."

[Jamis Kerr]

Silly things like logic mattered little to an adolescent male's brain, and Jamis only gave a snort at Akasha's reasoning. He flicked at the cabling as she talked, his mind obviously very much elsewhere.

"How do we know it's a Sith, anyway," he muttered once she'd finished, "Maybe it really is a ghost. Maybe some crew member from the Whaladon before the Jedi got it... ?"

His mind began to conjure up all manner of horrid tragedies that might've befallen the previous crew.

"Maybe there was some big accident? Or one of the crewers went crazy with space fever and killed everyone else before taking a walk out the airlock, and his ghost haunts the ship?"

[Akasha Khan]

"Well, if we see it again, you can ask."

If we see her again, Akasha thought, and she suppressed a shudder. She had no idea what she had seen in the airlock, and despite what she'd said, the notion that Idesca's spirit might still be haunting her was deeply disturbing. She scratched idly at the orbalisk scar on her chest and stalked slowly into the engine room, surrounded by meandering pipes, massive valves, and glowing control panels.

"I wonder why it's after Padawans," she said. "It must have a reason."