What if ... (Open)

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Five Years Ago


"What if you could change the past? What if you could travel back in time to a certain point and change the events to right a wrong? Would you do it, Shey?"


Sitting on a bench in the garden retreat that had been built just for these two lovebirds, an anniversary gift from her husband, Shey turns and stares at Stefan.

After spending a few minutes thinking carefully on how she'd reply, she shrugs.


"I .. I don't know, darling. I suppose it depends on what event it is that I wish to change."

Stefan takes her hand in his, drawing it up to his lips and pressing a tender kiss against the back of her hand; his eyes dance as they hold steadfast to hers.


"Would you, Stefan?"


No hesitation in his reply as he lowers their folded hands against his thigh, nodding his head.

"Yes. If anything ever happened to you .... I'd go back. I'd go back to make sure that nothing bad happened to you."

------

Two Years Ago

"We're sorry, Mrs. Castille. We did all we could for him. His injuries were just too .... "


Refusing to believe that she just lost her husband due to massive head trauma as a result of a terrible accident, Shey glares at the physician for a few minutes, then spins on her heels, stalking angrily out of the hospital.

The tears didn't flow, atleast not yet. Shey hailed a skytaxi and demanded to be taken home. It's there, that the tears are shed - when she walks right out the their garden and doesn't see Stefan sitting on the bench with two champaign flutes and a bottle in an ice bucket for them.


One year ago

"Excavation teams from the Coruscant Museum are preparing to embark on a new expedition in search of the Eternity Crystal, a wonderous crystal that is rumored to allow the user to travel through time. Leading this special team on the expedition is Dr ..."

She hears nothing more as she stares at the news announcer on the holovid, the words 'allowing the user to travel through time' repeating themselves in her mind.

This instantly sparks the memory of the conversation she and her beloved husband had four or so years ago. Turning on shakey legs away from the holovid, Shey walks over to the huge picture window of the livingroom and looks out across the yard to the now overgrown garden that Stefan had given to her as a first anniversary gift.

Folding her arms snug beneath her breasts, a cold chill shivers its way up her spine and a small warmth is felt against her cheek. Subconsciously, her left hand rises to brush her fingertips against her cheek - where Stefan use to kiss her each and every morning before he slipped out the door for work.

"Yes, Stefan. I would. I will."

--------

Present Day

After traveling from Corellia to Coruscant and getting herself settled into the posh Coruscant Hotel, Sheyleigh Castille instructs the cab driver to drop her off at the Museum. Once there, she asks around for the Dr who was leading the expedition she heard about half a year ago only to learn that he is dead. Killed during the expedition.

Nodding once, she wanders away from the information desk and stands in the lobby, looking around a bit as she tries to think of what to do next.

She has to find that crystal and now needs to find anyone who would know anything about it ....

[Barton Henning]

A piece of unverified information of uncertain origin usually spread by word of mouth – a rumor. Most rumors are spun around the mill for a short while, before fading off out of all conscious thought. Some, however, gain the prestigious title of legend. After that, it wouldn’t be long before the myth became common knowledge. Universally, it is accepted that if a large enough people know or believe in something, it’s true – like religion, for instance, or the Force – and that’s what happened a couple of years ago.

I stood inside the lobby of the Coruscant Museum, glancing back and forth at the tourists and citizens alike that were passing by. I was hoping a wealthy no-name would chance on my office and in a moment of scatterbrained hope offer to pay me well if I brought back this crystal so that they could relive their halcyon days. Just as I suspected, it had never happened. Then again, it wasn’t like I really had any hope left, and so long as I kept my expectations rock bottom, there was always a chance to be impressed.

So far it seemed like it was mostly your average clientele there to visit. The majority of people didn’t believe the legend of the Crystal, and if they did, certainly wouldn’t admit to it, for fear of being admitted into a mental hospital. The rich, however, were naturally afforded the title of mentally challenged, and so got away with it. The rich and, of course, the exceedingly poor. Like me.

Perhaps I’d do better else where. I certainly wasn’t going to get any business by waiting for off-worlders to approach me – the chances of which happening, I might add, were pretty slim (while the chances of that being my fault for dressing rather shiftily were pretty high). Just a few more minutes, I thought. Just a few.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Doing her best to keep the tears that want so desperately to fill her eyes at bay, Sheyleigh turns around slowly where she stands, allowing her eyes to simply wander over the artifacts, skeletal remains of creatures long ago extinct and the tapestries hanging from their bannermounts off each column lining the outerwalls of the lobby.

Chewing on her lower lip, too many thoughts flood her mind and she takes a breath to see if that helps at all in clearing everything so she can regain clear thinking.

What does Shey know of the Eternity Crystal? Only what's been posted in the newspapers or announced on the holonet. Obviously knowing what its suppose to be able to do; she doesn't know if the relic even truly exists. Apparently no one knows for certain.

The expedition team never returned and they are all presumed dead. But, what if they -did- find it? What if they found the crystal .. and what if .. they used it? That could be a possible explanation as to their disappearance.

Strolling through the lobby casually, her footing is too planned, too controlled; making it known clear as day that she isn't really here to admire the artwork or listen closely to the whispers of the past eminating from the old bones suspended from the ceilings.

A hand is lifted, sliding her fingers back through her hair, as she takes pause by one of the old paintings hung on the wall.

'Perhaps I can fund my own expedition..' she thinks to herself.

Perhaps I can fund the expedition and post an advertisement for archaeologists to respond to; so I can choose the team ..'

Tapping her fingers idly against her thigh, she turns her head just a little, shifting her eyes around those milling around the lobby. Most appear to be the 'normal' types to come to a museum; that is to say, school groups on a field trip, families taking visiting loved ones on a tour of the city, others skipping work or even school.

Her eyes travel over one man in particular a few times. He appears to be dressed in all black with a nice hat atop of his head.

Sheyleigh's mouth quirks, thinking that he just looks like another slick snake off the street, hoping to pick the pockets of those wandering around here aimlessly; too busy gawking at things to be paying attention to anything else.

Then again ... he does atleast dress as if he is wealthy; or at the very least, well-off.

Poor Sheyleigh. A bit too trusting and naive in many ways, its a dangerous fault of hers which will probably get fixed quick with this urgent need to get her hands on that Eternity Crystal.

Instead of approaching the man, she remains where she is, casually looking over towards him off and on, simply watching him.

[Barton Henning]

It didn’t take me long to realize that I was being watched. As a Watchman you developed talents like these that told you when someone had their eyes – and usually their gun – pointed at the back of your head. Luckily for me, today it was only the former. Every day people looked at you, but you could tell when someone was interested. The glance was just too long, or their eyes lingered with yours and for a moment something clicked and told you that they were not only looking at you, but thinking about you. Quite deeply.

I smiled, though not with my eyes, a fact hidden nicely by the brim of my hat – which my gloved fingertips touched for a moment, as a mark of acknowledgement. I wouldn’t go any further than that of course. It was rude to proposition stranger, let alone female strangers in the middle of museums right beneath the gaping skeletal rectum of some prehistoric monstrosity.

Back to pacing a few steps to one side and then the other, toying with the idea of leaving, or stopping by the museums over-priced café for a miniscule cup of caff.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

"Ohhh, this painting is my favorite!" , An elderly woman says as she waggles a gnarled, wrinkled index finger at the framed work of priceless art.

Shey grins at the woman, nodding her head once. "It is quite exquisite. I can see why it's your favorite."

The elderly woman goes on but Shey's not really listening. She's too busy glancing over towards the well-dressed, shadey looking man across the lobby.

The slightest cant of her head as she notices the way he fingers the brim of his hat. 'Did he just smile?', she wonders. Hm. Must have been a trick of the overhead lighting and the shadowing of his face.

"Yes, yes. Excuse me." Shey tells the old lady, touching the woman's shoulder briefly as she scoots past the woman, walking across the lobby and a bit closer to the man.

Atleast there was a directory near him; for that is where she takes a position, pretending to be looking over the museum map while shifting a look towards him now and then with subtle sideglances.

[Barton Henning]

Apparently, my judgment of character and motivation was still sharp. Either I had an admirer, or I had a stalker. More likely than not it was the latter, or a Watch officer deciding to keep pegs on me, just to make sure that I wasn’t doing anything unsavory. Whatever the reasoning was, she wasn’t here to browse the displace cases. No, she had some more important, and probably twisted and intricate, purpose.

I decided I would sit down on one of the aging leather-cushioned chairs that the museum provided as a lean-to for the elderly. Thankfully the OAPs were all off on their tour of the land time forgot, and that left me and a copy of Knitting Weekly all alone on the row of uncomfortable squat chairs.

“Finding anything interesting?” I finally asked, tired of the cat and mouse foreplay.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

There are times when the cat and mouse foreplay is necessary and this happens to be one of those times.

"Mm. I believe I have." Tracing her fingertip over the floorplan, she feins mapping out a planned course to take in a few exhibits, still shifting a sideglance or two towards the dapperly dressed stranger.

"I bet the old relics and artifacts housed in the museum are far more interesting than .. " Sheyleigh pauses long enough to turn and face the man. "Knitting, perhaps?", nodding towards the magazine on the small rounded table situated betwixt his seat and the other.

"You look like a man who appreciates the finer things in life. Care to escort a lady to the exhibit of her choice?"

[Barton Henning]

I thought on this for a minute or two, pondering the pros and cons. Not getting paid for wandering aimlessly about a museum was a primary con, but then again, it was rude to say no to a pro, especially a curvy one who wanted you to escort her. I folded the newly open cross-stitching publication and slid it back into its dusty corner before standing up.

“Why not.”

I ignored my previous reasoning that my pocket wouldn’t get any heavier. After all, there was the chance that conversation might drift to more profitable things on the walk around. You never knew who was silently formulating some secret plan in their head. For all I knew, the young woman could be a jaded wife looking to pull up some dirt on her cheating spouse.

I offered out an arm, but neglected to remove my hat (which for all intents and purpose was glued to my head).

“Where to?”

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Sheyleigh slips her arm into the one offered by the man and gives a subtle tug, leading him past the directory and across the lobby. One of the exhibits, off to their right, houses some speculated information about the Eternity Crystal, including mocked up crystals keeping space warm for when the real crystal(s) arrived from the original expedition.

However, since the first team vanished without a trace and is presumed dead, the fakes remain in place; along side some assumed and guesstimated information written up by the Dr. who led the team.

"Eternity, Sir. We're going to explore Eternity for a bit."

To onlookers, the two might appear to be a couple. That's fine, appearances are usually deceiving and at the moment, Sheyleigh needs to deceive any onlookers-keeps others from milling around and eavesdropping.

Besides, she has had her suspicions about the accident which killed her husband and she's had her firm ideas as to just whom it was that caused that accident; she doesn' have proof and she doesn't know if any of those responsible beings are lurking around or if they had even bothered to keep tabs on the woman.

Better to be safe than sorry.

[Barton Henning]

I looked over the displays, pretending to be interested. It was all a drummed up spiel meant to excite tourists and visitors to the city. The real story behind the supposed Eternity crystal was probably dull and as plain as you could get. This girl didn’t seem like the gullible type, though. That was odd. Either I’d pegged her wrong and she really was easily roped in, or there was something deeper going on.

“You have some personal interest in this over-sized gem?”

[Sheyleigh Castille]

"I do." Is her return response, dark eyes lifting to view the man's profile as the two enter the exhibit. The crystal isn't here of course, just faked pieces to keep in place until the real thing could be brought back; but that hasn't happened yet. Most of the galaxy knows this and Shey is a bit surprised that others haven't announced their desires of finding it for themselves.

Or, perhaps they have ... just not publicly.

Did Sheyleigh randomly pick this man from the crowd in the lobby? Or did she know all along what she's doing? That is still undetermined.

"Its said that the one wielding this crystal has the power in the palm of their hands to travel through time. Of course, without absolute proof, this is purely speculation which has been reported publicly by the good doctor whom was leading an expedition team in search of this said crystal."

Shey's eyes wander over a few of the informative placards, behaving as if she's reading them over during this brief pause in her words.

"I was once asked if I could travel through time, right a wrong or change something; an event or whatever .. if I would. I wasn't able to answer that question then."

Shey looks back to the gentleman's shadowy profile, wondering how to go about posing her proposition exactly. In fact, she has many questions of her own to ask of the gentleman, but for now, she will refrain, and focus on simply feeling this one out to see if he is the type of man she is looking for in this delicate endeavor she has her heart set upon.

[Quinlin Torr]

In the exhibit, directly infont of the show case, a figure in a hooded trench coat stood. Beneath the hood a pair of circular lenses tinted red, set into a pair of chrome frames stared at the exhibit, a face hidden behind a full head lycra mask set expressionless. Quinlin heard of this stone at one time, but threw it away as nonsence. But he had learned of the showing of the Crystal. He had treked his way here to see it for himself. The Eternity Crystal....supposed to allow the user to travel back through time itself. If he had the stone, he could travel back and save Sabina. Yes, he needed to find the real stone, but where to start was the key.

A gloved hand tapped against his thigh. He wondered whom it was that had knowledge of it. He needed to find out soon, very soon.....His past called to him....it demanded him to find it.

[Garrett Blade]

The guards outside the main entrance didn't have wings. Strange, then, that they managed to fly through the windows, smash down into a glass display case and impale themselves on the upturned, jagged, sharp ribcage of an early Rancor ancestor. Then, the main doors opened, and in walked Garrett.

He wasn't wearing his usual attire - that of a long, dark brown coat, dark blue pants and his red shirt. Instead, he was wearing a trailing blue nightgown, along with a matching nightcap. Slung over his shoulder and attached to his back was a large rucksack with several pockets and a larger main hold. It looked very sturdy and could hold a large amount of equipment. And strapped to his chest was a bomb.

Somewhat makeshift in appearance, yet no less destructive for it, the bomb flashed with multi-coloured LED's around its frame. nybody who knew bombs would be able to tell that it was real. Or at least real enough to excavate the entire museum from its foundations. And the detonator was in Garretts mouth, attached to the bomb by two wires on either side of the cylindrical device. A harness also held the detonator around Garretts neck should it fall from his mouth. This setup effectively allowed him to have both hands free at all times.

"Momomee mooome!"

The expressions of those in the musem entrance, as well as the adjacent exhibitions, changed from a look of horrific disbelief to that of confusion. This caused Garrett to spit out the detonator.

"Nobody move!"

The guy had a bomb strapped to his chest. It was highly unlikely people were about to start a Corellian jig in the natural history section. Satisfied that there was no moving going on, he continued.

"Anybody gets in my way, and we take a skyhigh ride to cloud nine! No heroics now!"

He then made his way towards the Eternity Crystal exhibit, being careful not to smack his nine feet high head on the arched entrance.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

As Sheyleigh was speaking quietly to the gentleman whose escorted her to the exhibit for the Eternity Crystal, her eyes waver subtlely from his profile to that of the new entrant cloaked in a long coat. As she was about to ask her escort a few questions, something deep inside says for her to fall silent.

So she does.

With scrutiny, she watches the cleverly cloaked man while mentioning to her escort and giving a gentle yet insistant tug on his arm ...

"I'm feeling a bit hungry, my dear. Perhaps some lunch?"

No, the escort upon her arm is not her lover, but to the public, perception is everything.

Noted before that Sheyleigh is naive to much, she's also very observant and not so naive in the matters of playing things safe. Her husband's former employment and personal instruction insured that she knew how to play certain hands and how to play them exceptionally well.

As Shey and her escort head for the exhibit's exit, a rush of frightening people breaking for any exit in all directions sets her on edge.

Snapping her head around to see what all the commotion is about, her heart rate increases; the screams from a few women and the cries of children only adding to the growing fear.

"What's going ..."

Her unfinished question is suddenly answered when a madman storms his way into the corridor of the exhibit, blocking off Shey's own retreat.

The sheer size of the man is enough to cause Shey to bring a hand up, resting her fingertips against her lips for but a moment as she backsteps further down the corridor, away from the pyscho.

Bumping into a five-foot urn set along the wall, Shey stumbles and falls into Barton ...

[Barton Henning]

I caught her and my breath as I saw the loon ahead. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t good, and I- we- needed to find a way out before something really did happen. He was headed for the exhibit we’d just been at, and I could see the horror in Sheyleigh’s eyes as she realized that this elaborate heist was probably meant to allow the madman to take that very crystal that she was pining for.

My mother told me never to talk to strangers (and I didn’t imagine they got any stranger than this guy), so I kept quiet and let my eyes do the talking.

I darted them twice towards the exit – the wake left behind by the lanky tower of a man gave a good chance to getaway, but the window was small. If we were getting out, we were getting out now, and there was no time for hesitation.

[Quinlin Torr]

The towering fool came bursting in and threatened to level the place. Quinlin stepped back from the exhibit case and moved around to the left. It was then he had caught a couple acting..peculiar.

His gut feeling screamed they could know something. Especially in the way the woman glanced his way.

' Hmmmm....what are you hiding? Do you know of what I seek?'

He thought to himself as he watched them ....her closely. His rounded red tinted lenses onhis chrome goggles kept on them as they slowly made their way to the exit. Quinlin followed. Leaving the towering fool to oggle at the exhibit..... He followed close, but not too close.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Museum security arrives at the exhibit, aiding visitors to safety; as well as completely out of the building. Corsec was well on its way, their sirens wailing through the streets and in the skyways, forcing traffic to halt and clear the way.

A good thing that Barton caught Shey when he did as the growing crowd in the exhibit hit panic mode and began its mad dash out of the darkened exhibit hall.

Confused, Shey feels herself getting pulled out by the strong grasp of her escort, stumbling a few times as she regains her own steady footing and hikes up the hem of her skirt to avoid tripping over it. During all of this, her eyes once again met those of Quinlin, albeit very briefly. Long enough for her to burn an image in her mind of him.

'Roses.'

Why did that just enter her mind?

Then, her escort whisks her away from the panicked crowd and out of the museum.

****

Outside, it seemed more chaotic than it had been inside. Squad cars parked askew all in front of the museum, others around the side and more around the back. Corsec agents all over the place, a few Jedi lingering nearby working with the special agents; hoping to find a way to capture the madman without bringing harm to any innocents -- or even to the madman.

Curious onlookers milling all about, behind the barracades that had been set up, of course. That crowd seemed to be growing at a steady rate. Morbid when you truly think about it.

She and her escort headed swiftly down the walkway, putting much distance between themselves and the museum as possible.

"I don't understand. The crystal in the exhibit isn't even the real crystal, so why would someone storm the place like that and ..."

Shey looks to Barton while lazily motioning back towards the museum as she states her confusion.

"Roses ..." This is murmured under her breath as she scans the crowd not too far away from them. Rose-colored glasses; that's what she's looking for but fails to notice. With a sigh, she looks back up to Barton and manages a small smile.

"My name is Sheyleigh Castille." Now ... to those who aren't familiar with Corellia or some of its more well-known businesses, the last name may not mean much to them.

However, Stefan Castille was one of the top designers of starships and stardrives for the corporation known as Corellian Engineering Corporation. An ancient corporation, CEC has grown over the millennia to become one of the three largest producers of starships, along with Kuat Drive Yards and Sienar Fleet Systems. CEC has the advantage of being successful in the civilian market, as well as the simple fact that Corellians are incredibly adept in the areas of starship design. Their military designs are also quite successful. CEC became one of the Corporate Sector Authority's original Contributing Sponsors when the New Order allowed the Authority to gain control of the Corporate Sector.

Unknown to Sheyleigh, Stefan overheard quite a few things the higher-ups in the corporation were discussing -- things he never should have heard.

"I ... I need your help. I can pay, money is no object in this delicate matter, I assure you."

Hopeful yet pleading eyes remain affixed to Barton's as her fingers fidget apprehensively with one another.

"Will you .. help me?"

Sure, she's taking a huge gamble in asking this man whom she knows absolutely nothing about for his aid; but she thinks that he may just be the .. well, atleast one of the men ... for the job.

He could have left her in there, in the museum. He could have attempted to abduct her and demand a heavy ransom for her return ... probably could have even killed her during the chaotic melee -- but he did nothing of the sort.

He led her out. Led her to safety. To Sheyleigh ... that says a lot.

[Barton Henning]

I was surprised that none of the Watch had called us over for questioning. It had been standard procedure to gather all witnesses at the scene of a crime. I guessed that in my absence standards must of slipped. At least now we were outside, though. The woman was trembling, a little shaken, but when she looked up at me she had all the courage in her eyes that you could ever need in this world.

“I ... I need your help”

Is what she said, those four words that had been my downfall once before. I was about to say no, when another three words swayed me.

”I can pay, money is no object in this delicate matter, I assure you.”

Sold, I thought.

“Well, Sheyleigh… I can damn well try.”

I smiled. I don’t know why. There was nothing happy about the situation, and I was sure it would go downhill from there, but somehow it just felt like the right thing to do. I introduced myself to her, as Barton Henning, tagging on the letters P and I – which, I have to admit, made her eyes light up.

“I think we had better go somewhere quiet to talk about this.”

[Garrett Blade]

The police were at the entrance to the museum, ready to send in the first team when suddenly the building errupted into flames, sending glass and brick out into the street. Smoke billowed up from the ruined museum. Now, it looked more like the excavations it had preserved for so long than a building.

Five minutes prior to the explosion:

In the ensuing chaos of visitors scrambling towards the nearest exit, Garrett made his way over to the Eternity Crystal exhibit. The fake crystal wa son show in the central glass display cabinet, along with excavation notes, maps, tools and other miscellaneous items relating to the dig were on display in adjacent cabinets. They were all subsequently smashed and their contents taken. Garrett packed them away in the large rucksack on his back and, once the building had emptied, removed the bomb from his chest. He placed it down inside the smashed cabinet that previously contained the fake crystal and set it to timed detonation, giving himself two minutes.

Using the underground tunnel network as a means of escape, Garrett made haste from the scene of the crime. Next stop: Sector thirty-nine and the home of Professor Merven Glents.

[Quinlin Torr]

Quinlin was right behind them, just far enough to be inconspicuous, but close enough to not lose them. He followed the two and noticed her looking around.....she seemed to be looking to find someone. He read the mouthed word..Roses.

He scrunched his eyebrows at that...thought....then smiled. She meant his lenses. She was looking for him.

A grin appeared underneath his lycra mask. He would bide his time and then approach when the time was right.

' You know what I seek miss......I know you do. '

[Sheyleigh Castille]

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. . .."

KABOOM!

A loud explosion rocks the museum at its foundations, sending glass and bricks sky high and leaving it all to rain down to the streets. People screamed and ran for cover. Debris, sometimes huge chunks of it, came crashing down upon some of the Corsec agent's vehicles, causing two of those to explode as well.

Mass chaos ensued, smoke and dust filled the air in thick clouds, roiling over the avenues for nearly a full mile in radius.

Shey and Barton were far enough away to avoid the falling debris, but not the thick dust clouds. Running further from the confusing scene until the air was clear again, Sheyleigh took a hold of Barton's bicep to remain steady as she coughed violently, clearing the choking smoke from her lungs.

As the debris began to settle and the crowds began to dwindle closer to the flaming building, Shey panned the crowd. The feeling of having unseen eyes upon her seemed only to grow stronger but she dismissed it as being nothing more than jittery nerves.

"Roses."

Again, she whispered while scanning the crowd then looked back to Mr. Henning.

"Yes, I suppose that would be a good idea right about now."

Dark eyes shifted subtlely, just enough to glance directly across from her right shoulder. A quick shudder ran up her spine and then another quick, yet forced, smile parted her lips gently.

"Perhaps my estate would be safest. "

Quite shaken, Sheyleigh slides her arm into Barton's, gently coaxing him to walk along with her, away from the building. No time to be wasted, and clearly not wishing to be questioned endlessly by Corsec.

"Is there anything you'd like to ask of me before I begin telling you just what it is I am hiring you to do, Mr. Henning?"

Though her tone was softened, it's obvious that what just happened at the museum clearly has her far more shaken up than others may have been. It took her a good few blocks of walking before she even dared to speak the question to her escort.

And though all eyes were focused on the roiling black smoke and orange-red flames reaching towards the skies from the museum, she still couldn't shake the feeling of being watched...

[Barton Henning]

Years in the Watch had hardened me to situations like that, but I had courtesy enough to not assume the same of Sheyleigh. It was blatantly obvious that her nerves had gone all to pot, though she managed to speak up sooner than I would have thought she would.

“When I have something to ask, I’ll ask it.”

My mind jumped back to the idea of her estate. It was a long time since I’d been on something that could warrant the name estate. There had been old commendation ceremonies, back in the day, for Watch officers who dealt with one of the Coco Districts biggest disasters, and I had been among the crew to receive a little shiny piece of metal from the government.

Now, I wagered, it was sitting on somebody else’s chest, being battered by gunfire – you see, most of the medals were melted down as scrap metal, and I imagine mine was one of the first to go. Symbolic.

[Quinlin Torr]

The man completely covered in black from head to toe, with the "rose" colored lensed goggles walked with them. Behind them and at an angle, but never let them from his sight. He needed to find a way to talk to her.....get the information he needed, that was IF she would talk to him....It was all he wanted really. No harm in talking.....Hmmmm, wonder if she would accept my help if she helped me?

He thought to himself as he made his way through the crowd. Always keeping his eyes on them.....on her.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Sheyleigh walks along at a hurried pace, though she does attempt to make it not appear that obvious. A few times, either while waiting at one of the busy street corners for traffic to clear or when their pace had to slow due to other passersby pausing to window shop and standing in their way, her mouth would open; as if to say something ... but she never did.

So many thoughts and questions went through her head. Such as whether or not that explosion were in any way related to those who had killed her husband. What if CEC has been watching me all these years? What if Stefan left something in the house or on the grounds that would bring a whole new set of troubles? Even all these years later...

After another twenty minutes or so has past, the bustling traffic and high rises gives way to sparsely populated walkways, dotted with trees, their leaves beginning to show their vibrant colors as they prepare to shed them, readying themselves for a long cold slumber under a cold, white blanket of snow.

Those who could afford any luxury life could offer, sported the sleekest, fastest, most luxurious of vehicles in their driveways. The homes seem to grow larger and more elegant the further down one strolled the neigborhood. A bit more sparse as well, considering their perfectly manicured grounds took up more space then even the largest of estate homes.

Taking a right, Shey smiles a little bit as the scent of jasmine lingers in the air, the lane lined with the fragrant plants. Exotic and rare flowers, trees and bushes scattered over the grounds of her estate; a beautiful fountain centered perfectly a few hundred feet away from the front door.

The security gates remain open. She's always hated those wrought iron gates. They remind her of a prison and Stefan was the one who would always make sure that they were closed. Sheyleigh likes her home to make her guests feel as if they are welcome; not as if they are walking into a cold, unfeeling place only made to look warm and inviting.

Besides, the lingering thought of roses and the feeling of being followed still remains. However, unlike other times when she's had the feeling of being watched or followed, she doesn't feel threatened this time. In her mind, she supposes that if whomever it was that had been or possibly was still watching meant any harm, it would have come by now. Best to leave the gates open. Perhaps her follower would simply knock on the front door and make his presence and intentions known.

"Welcome to Castille Estate."

A sweeping motion is made with her left arm, then her hand is placed lightly over her right, still looped within Barton's arm as she drew in a breath, still enjoying the way her husband had the estate built to resemble a small castle; complete with a moat!

Upon entering the home itself, the find themselves in a large foyer, facing a beautiful spiral staircase winding its way to the upper floors. Three floors in total; not including the attic.

Rich colors of emerald, ivory and marbled-veins in gold leaf; its very evident that her husband did everything for her. Definitely a woman's touch to everything in the place, from the satin curtains to the choices in artwork lining some of the walls.

Sprays of fresh flowers in expensive vases scattered about, set in the most appropriate of places. Floors of marble (except for the kitchen - that flooring is stone) feel warm, even through the soles of the wearers shoes. Shey hates being cold and because she's severely anemic, Stefan made sure that even if she were to walk around barefoot, she wouldn't be cold; so he had heating coils installed beneath the flooring.

"May I get you anything? A drink? Something to eat, Mr. Henning?"

Sheyleigh asks as one of the servants approaches carrying a silver tray, laden with finger-size afternoon desserts and two glasses of champagne.

A few small steps, silent indication for Barton to follow her into the parlor, the servant following as well. He departs once the silver tray is set upon a mahogany coffee table, taking his leave just as quietly as he appeared and closing the doors in his wake.

The parlor, perhaps one of the most comfortable and most relaxed rooms in the place, almost resembles a greehouse. Circular in shape, forming one of the outer tourets of the home, enclosed in glass. Perfect temperature is maintained so even during the coldest of winters, one could sit comfortably and enjoy the afternoon sun streaming down through the stained-glass making up the domed ceiling of the parlor and never get a chill.

"Please, make yourself comfortable, Mr. Henning."

With a glass of champagne in her hand, Sheyleigh smooths her skirts and settles herself on the velvet-lined plush cushion of a high wing-backed chair situated near the coffee table.

[Barton Henning]

“Just… call me Barton.”

If I had said I was shocked, I would have been lying. Awed was more like it. Wherever I was, it didn’t feel like Coruscant. Walking through that neighborhood had been such an unfamiliar experience and now I was even more lost and feeling out of place in the palace of a house. I looked down at the chair opposite that which my host had sat in, and wagered that it was probably worth more than all of my earthly possessions.

“Nice place,” I remarked, as I removed my hat and sat it down on the coffee table.

I probably looked about ten years older than I really was, underneath all that stubble. I was sporting a couple of scars too, nice ones that had taken a long time to become as grizzled as they now were. My hair was a little lank from being underneath the hat all day – and most of the week for that matter – but I figured I wasn’t needed for my dashing looks.

Next off came my coat, which I folded into my lap. I didn’t want to dirty the floor or the chair, and I imagined the tail of the coat had collected a fair bit of grime so would do just that. I carefully lifted the champagne glass. I don’t think I’d ever drunk any before, and after one sip I was glad. Still, I took another gulp for appearances sake before settling my hands back comfortably on the velvet beneath them.

“So…”

[Quinlin Torr]

The figure clad in black with the rose tinted lenses walked past the gate. Odd, it was a security gate and it was left open......She knew.....she knew he was following, or was it the man she was with? He'd find out. He walked past the open gates and proceeded to the huge house.

He stood in front of it and stared at it, it was a nice mansion..... and alot of space for perhaps one or two people. He walked near a window and peeked in. Nothing out of the ordinary. He'd wait a bit more....till nightfall....then make his appearance to her.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

A small smile graces the young widows face, that feeling of being watched in an unthreatening way has returned. Why smile? She has an inkling that the one following is the one with the rose-tinted lenses. For now, she makes no mention of this to Barton, nor to any of her staff.

"Mm, yes. It is rather lovely, isn't it?"

Her eyes drift around for a minute or two, then she sips from the fluted glass.

"It's um .. Well, it's too big for just myself and feels rather lonely to be here without my Stefan."

A wan smile is given to Barton as she places the fluted glass down on the coffee table and sits back in her chair, crossing her legs. With the lifting of an index finger, she motions towards the floor-to-ceiling picture window and the breathtakingly beautiful garden outside.

An arched-trellis covered in wisteria marks the entry; uneven stones of granite mark the path into the garden, leading one along a trail of fragrant beauty. Some of the galaxy's most exotic specimens are contained within that garden, most of all - her roses. Sheyleigh's favorite.

"One evening, my husband led me out to that very garden. The garden was Stefan's anniversary gift to me on our first year as husband and wife."

Her dark eyes seem to stare -- seeing a man whom is not truly there, sitting on the bench in the garden. Distant, her tone sounds wistful, dreamy ...

"He asked me once if I could travel through time .. if I could change an event or right a wrong .. would I do it?"

Slowly, that dreamy and vacant look in her eyes fades and she looks to Barton.

"I couldn't answer him then. So, I replied with the only response I could. I told him I didn't know."

A pause.

"I wish he were here now; because I have his answer. I would. More importantly . . . I will."

Sheyleigh gives Barton a moment or two, watching him, trying to read any reaction he may have.

"And I need your help to do it."

[Barton Henning]

I listened to her recounting her past and it struck me exactly why I had been brought back to the estate. She, unlike I, believed the eternity crystal was real and that somehow it would give her clairvoyance enough to correct the mistakes of the past. I had to draw my eyes down away from hers, to look anywhere except into that pleading gaze. In my lap I turned my hat over and over.

“So you want me to find the madman who stole the crystal, and get it back for you.”

Somehow, I imagined that wasn’t all, but for now I was happy deluding myself.

I wanted to say no, and to say that she was living in the past. I wanted to stand up and walk right out of there, back to my apartment … back to the squalor of employment and a bottle of whiskey a night. The strange thing was that I didn’t, and I knew why. Her. I was a sucker, a dupe, and I didn’t care. I’d find her that crystal and when, in the end, it didn’t work I’d tell her, Baby, at least we’ve got each other.

[Quinlin Torr]

Night had fallen, and the air was cool. The wind blew softly, causing the surrounding trees and foliage to whisper amoung themselves. He had taken his mask off and had placed the chrome rimmed, red lensed goggles upon his forehead. His chestnut colored hair framed his face as it peered out from the confines of his hood. He approached the house once more and slowly ascended the steps.

He stood before the intriquet designed door of the main entryway and knocked.

He waited for the woman to answer, if she perhaps didn't have servants of course. What would greet her if she did would be an angelic face, pale of skin, but looking like he had descended form the heavens itself.

His hazel eyes stared at the door as the wind played through his hair. Another thing that would catch her attention, would be the "rose" colored lenses of the goggles which sat upon his forehead.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Slowly, Sheyleigh shakes her head to Barton.

"You see, that madman at the museum? It wasn't the true crystal that was there. The crystal on display was only a reproduction."

Shey studies Barton for a passing moment, pausing to collect her thoughts.

"Recently, it has been reported on the holonet that an expedition team has vanished. This team was reportedly excavating a site, some sort of ancient ruins, where it's believed the Eternity Crystal would be found. According to the news ...

Sheyleigh rises from the high-wing back chair and strolls towards Barton, moving past his right and dragging her fingertips over the velvety back of the seat he has taken.

"...the man leading the expedition has been found dead. Positively identified, yet no mention as to whether or not foul-play was involved or what the cause of death is.

"The Eternity Crystal is still out there, Barton. I want you to .."

Just then, a knock at the door interrupts her. Sheyleigh walks away from the back of Barton's chair over to the floor-to-ceiling picture window; easing the sheer curtain aside, peering towards the front walk.

"I wonder whom that could be...", is spoken idly.

"Excuse me, Barton. I'll only be a moment."

With a gentle swishing of her skirt against her legs and the soft click of her shoes against the marble floor, Sheyleigh steps out of the room and heads down the hall. Once to the foyer, she smiles and nods to the serving woman.

"It's all right, I'll see who it is." The servant nods and returns to the kitchen, where she's busy with dishes.

The doorknob turns, a subtle click is heard, then the door is slowly opened.

"Yes? May I he ..."

Dark downcast eyes lift to meet those of her guest. Gently, her lips part as the mere sight of the one with the rose-tinted goggles stands before her, catching her by surprise.

" .. help you ...", she finishes; her voice barely above a whisper.

If she didn't know any better, she'd swear that the man at her front door was none other than Stefan's younger brother. Of course, her husband was an only child so it wasn't possible, but the similarities in their looks is there all the same.

A gentle clearing of her throat and a small smile is given to the man and the whispered thought of roses at the back of her mind.

[Quinlin Torr]

Both hands lift to bring the cowl from over his head. His chestnut colored hair fell around his shoulders. The light hit his face fully and he smiled. His hazel eyes seemed to dance as he did.

"Good evening Madame, Yes....I was hoping you could actually."

He took the goggles off his head and tucked it into his belt. He stood there looking into her eyes. And a sudden feeling of "deja vu" took over. A familiar sense about her grasped at him, but he couldnt figure out where...or what?

"There is something of common interest we have, you and I."

He paused for a few seconds then stated.

"The Eternity Crystal."

[Sheyleigh Castille]

As the gentleman lowers the cowl from his head, the striking resemblance to her husband shows even more, stealing the very breath from her lungs. She valiantly keeps the startlement from being noticeable.

Gently, her right brow lofts and her head cants slightly to the right at the mention of sharing a common interest. Her lips part slightly once more, readying to allow the question of what that may be to pass between them, but he spoke before she could find her voice.

At the mention of the Eternity Crystal, she swallows; a hard, dry swallow while righting her head. Those gently parted lips part a bit more, yet no sound passes through them.

For a brief moment, her heart stood still; yet, the sound of its beat thrummed loudly in her own ears at the same time. The sense of deja vu, the feeling that she knows or should the man standing before her is very strong.

Roses, again that thought runs across her mind.

"Won't you come in?", she asks, standing aside while opening the door further to allow him to cross the threshold.

Sure, some might think her insane for welcoming this total stranger into her home. Who says he isn't here to kidnap her or outright kill her?

No one can say, but Sheyleigh doesn't feel threatened at all by his presence. In fact, she feels the exact opposite - a sense of comfort - by it. Besides, if he wanted to kill her or abduct her, he most likely would have done it hours ago.

[Quinlin Torr]

Stepping through the foyer, he looked around at the lavish home. Alot like the ones back home, and this impressed him. He turned his eyes back to her and smiled once more.

"Thank you... My name is Quinlin. And I seek a chance to correct a past mistake......That is....If, you would help me. You would benefit from it I promise you."

He took off his gloves to reveal hands that were also of a pale tone as his face. That too he tucked away in his coat. He ran a hand through his hair and teased it from its matted down look.

He hoped she would help him, because in helping him get back in time...he'd help her find the Crystal and she could keep it. He just wanted to get back to that tragic day.

"Are you interested?"

[Sheyleigh Castille]

His smile was returned as she closed the door. With her fingers laced loosely, as if rather relaxed, Shey regards Quinlin with much scrutiny; a brow lifting steeply as he mentions correcting a past mistake.

Roses, Sheyleigh. The Roses. This fleeting thought causes her brows to furrow deeply, creasing her forehead with deep lines. Again, Shey studies Quinlin, reading his body language and his eyes to the best of her abilities. More or less following her heart and woman's intuition than anything else. She isn't force sensitive and even pities those who are. What a wonderful and terrible gift to possess.

"My name is Sheyleigh. Sheyleigh Castille. Feel free to address me as Shey, Quinlin."

Whether or not she accepts or believes his invitation to profit by aiding him, she makes no verbal comment. Instead, her dark eyes drift to the servant once more.

"Rosa, would you please bring another glass of wine to the parlor for our guest?"

The servant nods and departs to do her duty and Sheyleigh smiles softly to Quinlin, gazing up to him, as if trying to remember just where it is she knows him from.

A little embarassed as it may appear that she is staring, a light flush of pink colors her cheeks.

"Forgive me, please. We will speak further on this ... delicate ... matter. Follow me, please."

Sheyleigh leaves no room for Quinlin to refuse, turning away from him to lead the way to the parlor. Once there, she sweeps a hand towards Barton, introducing him as Mr. Henning, then she motions to a vacant chair for Quinlin to seat himself.

"Mr. Henning is under my employ."

Shey looks over to Barton and cants her head subtlely.

"Isn't that right?"

[Barton Henning]

I had heard the hushed voices, but hadn’t been able to catch exactly what they were saying. When the pair entered I had just been about to get up, and excuse myself as heading off to find the toilet – just to catch a glimpse at what was going on. It seemed that I wouldn’t need such childish tricks now though.

“That I am.”

I looked the man up and down. I had seen him before… he had followed us, I was sure of it. But why? It seemed that he was interested in the crystal too, perhaps in helping find it. The real crystal, as Shey had said. I was skeptic as ever, but forced my best curt smile. I felt the need to put on my hat, if only to hide my suspicious eyes, but refrained.

I looked up at Quinlin, “I take it you’ll soon be boasting the same?”

[Quinlin Torr]

"Mr.Henning."

He said, as he shook the man's hand and sat down in the chair that Shey had offered.

“I take it you’ll soon be boasting the same?”

He smiled pleasantly at the man.

"No Mister Henning, not as an employ......but maybe as a partner if you will."

He watched the woman Shey for a bit after answering Henning, He was trying to place the deja vu feeling. It was beginning to drive him crazy. But he didnt show it. He just sat there with a cordial, yet regal smile.

[Garrett Blade]

In another room, a news broadcast could be heard. Holonet had a nasty habit of interrupting commercials with news broadcasts this time of the evening. And as we all know with commercials, they tend to come on much louder than the actual programmes or films. Thats because the holonet knows you're going to bugger off and make yourselgf a cup of tea - they're shouting after you. This particular news bulletin was rather unusual, and not of much concern to the majority. Several servants and other employees in the manor could hear it in adjoining rooms.

<HR>
"This is a special news broadcast. We come to you live from Sector thirty-nine just outside the executive tenament building where Professor Merven Glents was brutally murdered tonight. Police in charge of the investigation have examined video footage from the CCTV network in the building and have a high-resolution picture of the murderer. They have also confirmed that, while his identity is unknown, it is the same man who committed several mass-murders in Coruscant several years ago. We will keep you informed as the case develops."
<HR>

Just before the newsflash ended, the high-resolution picture appeared, showing the man, nine feet tall, entering the apartment of Professor Glents.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

With knees pressed firmly against each other and her upper body hunched over her legs, an elbow propped against her right knee, Sheyleigh was busy gazing into the gently swirling liquid contained within her own fluted glass; her brows knitted gently.

The voices of Quinlin and Barton seemed to come from somewhere back in her mind, other thoughts clawing their way to the surface as she too, was trying desperately to place the reason for the deja vu. As well as the roses.

What is it about roses that keeps popping into her head?

Dark eyes lift to meet those of Barton's, a faint smile curving her lips. Good. He's under her employ now; just what she was hoping to hear.

Easing back and crossing her right leg over her left knee, the bottom of the fluted glass is rested against the arm of her chair.

"Partner?" , she asks of Quinlin, her left brow lofting a hairs breath.

"I really do not like to share too many things, Quinlin. This crystal happens to be one of those things. What's in it for you, exactly?"

A habit of restlessness is for Sheyleigh's fingertip to slide slowly up and down along the slender stem of the fluted champagne glass, such as it is doing right now; dark eyes affixed to Quinlin.

Whether Quinlin started to voice his desires or not, Sheyleigh's attention is drawn when a servant comes rushing in.

"Mrs. Castille! Come quick, come quick!" It's Rosa, her accent thick, her face pale and her eyes wide. Breaking formality, Rosa grasps Sheyleigh by the wrist and heaves the slender young woman up from her chair, sploshing a few droplets of champagne over the rim of the glass to spill upon the arm of the chair.

"Rosa! Honestly! What has gotten into you?!" Demands Shey.

"S'de holonet, come come!" Insistantly, Rosa nearly drags Sheyleigh rudely from her two guests out of the parlor and into the main livingroom.

"... Professor Merven Glents was brutally murdered tonight. Police in charge of the investigation have examined video footage from the CCTV network in the building and have a high-resolution picture of the murderer. They have also confirmed that, while his identity is unknown, it is the same man who committed several mass-murders in Coruscant several years ago. We will keep you informed as the case develops."

Rosa crosses herself, murmuring sacred prayers to whatever deity it is she prays to. Sheyleigh almost drops the expensive champagne glass from her trembling fingers but one of the other servants just happens to snatch it from her hand before that can happen.

The coloring in Shey's face turns pale. Fingertips press lightly, disbelievingly, against her lips as it seems she cannot quite catch her breath.

"My ..." Nothing else is said. What more could she say?

As Shey finishes watching the news broadcast, she catches the image of the tall man entering the building.

"THAT'S HIM!" Quickly, Sheyleigh points to the shimmering screen, indicating the figure of Garrett Blade, waggling her finger impatiently at it; as if somehow the image on the screen would reverse itself then freeze frame.

Rosa looks to Sheyleigh, fear in her eyes. Shey has no time to explain so she bolts from the livingroom, running right into Quinlin, hard enough to send herself sprawling to the floor.

[Quinlin Torr]

He was about to answer her when the servant came in all excited about something. He watched Shey get up and enter the room, Quinlin got up and walked to the doorway when Shey came running out and right into him staggering him back a couple steps. And she ended up on the floor.

He quickly helped her up. Making sure she was ok, he glanced into the room she had run out of.

"Shey, what's wrong? What's the matter?"

He asked as his eyes narrowed back to the door.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Helped to her feet by Quinlin, Shey rakes shakey fingers back through her hair, looking to the floor but not really seeing anything because her mind is definitely elsewhere.

It's Quinlin's voice that pulls her back to the here and now, her mumbling under her breath ceasing.

"The man at the museum today - the one who blew up the exhibit - ..."

Shey reaches out and steadies herself in the frame of the door, looking from Quinlin to the holovid then back to him once again.

"A close friend of my husband's was killed this evening..." , her voice softer and barely above a whisper as these words are spoken.

"I saw the man just now. On the news broadcast. I saw him, Quinlin." She may seem as if she's just rambling, pointing towards the holovid with a shakey index finger and repeating herself a few times.

"The crystal ..."

Whatever it is that she says after this goes unheard, perhaps viewed as incohorent mutterings from a woman who's been distraught since losing her husband unexpectedly half a decade ago.

"The roses." Again, she looks to Quinlin; that sense of deja vu stronger than it was before.

"Roses..."

[Barton Henning]

The plot thickens. Our jewel thief is none other than a mass-murderer. That wasn’t as bright as a start as I had hoped for – how do you bargain with a man who trifles with lives as if they were nothing? I wasn’t sure how I was expected to out-wit a madman, but I imagined it would take me long enough to catch him in the first place, so I’d have plenty of time to smooth out the details.

It couldn’t help but see the silent tension building between Shey and Quinlin. There was something going on here, something I couldn’t see yet. I didn’t know how Torr fitted into the puzzle, but in my own mind I was convinced that he wasn’t letting onto something that was key to unraveling this growing web.

“Let’s not get panicked,” I intoned, now up on my feet.

“If this murderer is our only lead, then I guess that’s who we’re going after,” I continued, cutting my eyes towards our mysterious benefactor, full of suspicion.

[Quinlin Torr]

He listened to her, She spoke of the madman who charged into the exhibit earlier and caused a huge rukus. He stepped closer to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

" Do you think that madman may have found something we haven't found or maybe need to find?"'

He asked. Feeling her shaking beneath his hand, he smiled.

"Relax Shey, you have nothing to fear from that man. You have Mr.Henning here and with someone such as myself on your side, he'd be hard pressed to cause trouble."

He caught what she spoke softly....Roses

He canted his head to the side, his eyes searching hers.

"What about them Shey? Tell me."

He kept his eyes on hers then looked at Henning as he spoke up.

“If this murderer is our only lead, then I guess that’s who we’re going after,”

Quinlin nodded.

"You're right Mr.Henning......IF he is a lead."

Quinlin noted the calculating look Henning gave him....the man was no idiot. He knew Quinlin wasn't disclosing something and that was "what" he was.....no sense in causing them to panic as there was no need to worry from anything about him....he was there to trully help.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Her mind swimming, the words exchanged between Quinlin and Barton went unheard ... correction .. they were sent straight to the back of her mind.

Slowly, Sheyleigh shakes her head, as if clearing away a fog that has settled itself in deep. Dark eyes meet those of Quinlin, something familiar settles into her bones.

"Hm? Tell you about them? Oh .. the roses." Her tone a bit distant, she looks from Quinlin to Barton, then lowers her eyes to the floor, thinking.

"They're my favorite flowers. Roses. The black ones, really." With these words spoken, Shey distractedly motions in the direction of the now overgrown garden area - visible from the parlor they had been sitting in not that long ago.

"Remember the roses, Sheyleigh." Sheyleigh returns her attention to Barton and Quinlin; particularly Quinlin as the weight of his hand is felt against her shoulder.

"That's what my Stefan said to me the night before he ..."

The pain of losing the only man she's ever loved in all of her young adult life is too much. Too much that she cannot utter the word died in order to finish her sentence.

A hard, dry swallow.

"No; I do not think that madman has anything that is pertinent to the true Eternity Crystal. At least ..."

Dark eyes, full of mystery and deeply rooted sadness, dart to the holovid once more.

"Stefan once worked with Professor Glent on a project. I guess it just ... surprised me .. to hear that he's dead."

Another look to Quinlin, her brows knitting ever so gently.

"The roses ... I don't know what I'm suppose to remember about them."

Tears begin to brim her lower lids, feeling as if somehow she's dishonored her husband's memory by forgetting something he meant for her to remember.

"We must get over to Professor Glent's apartment and get inside. Do you think the authorities will let us in?", she asks of both Barton and Quinlin.

Sheyleigh has no idea as to why it is that she feels they're to go there, she just knows deep down that is where they must be ...

[Barton Henning]

Regardless of whether they let us in, it looks like that's where we're headed.

I dipped my eyes to the ground. The authorities, I thought. That would mean either the Republic or the Watch, and I sincerely hoped it wasn't the latter. I didn't want to deal with Vymes' boys, now or any time in the future. I was still bitter about being kicked off the team, and had no doubts that if there was one person they wouldn't let onto the scene of a crime, it was me.

"I should be the one to go."

I said,

"Your connection to the project could put you in danger, Shey. Torr, you stay and protect her. I'll go do my job, report back later on in the evening. Okay?"

I had already replaced my hat and flicked the collar of my coat upwards, to protect against the sniping chill of the cold outside.

[Quinlin Torr]

He nodded to the gentleman before him, Henning made a damn good point. She would be in danger if she went, she was alot safer here with him.

" I agree on that...If that person killed the friend of her husband, he would surely try for her there."

Quinlin looked at her and canted his head slightly to the right as his eyes caught hers.

" I will protect you while he goes to find out whats going on. Plus, it will give us time to figure out why it is you keep mentioning the roses."

He watched Henning leave.

"Good luck Barton. We will wait for your call."

He looked back at her.

"You might want to get some rest....I dont sleep at night."

He said with a small smile, keeping his secret close to him.... she doesnt need to know yet.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Sheyleigh divides her attention between the two men, nodding when appropriate, and narrowing her eyes when Quinlin suggests that the madman from the museum might have something to do with her husband's death.

Unable to say anything, due to the million thoughts racing through her mind. She watches Barton leave then looks to Quinlin once more.

"I don't think I can sleep, Quinlin. So much has happened in just this day that it all .. . it all seems to be a blur."

One last look at the holovid. Other news from elsewhere in the galaxy is being reported and Shey doesn't pay any attention to it.

"Follow me. Please."

Rubbing her brows a few times, Sheyleigh leads Quinlin back to the parlor their original palaver took place in. Instead of seating herself in the chair she occupied previously, she sits down on the loveseat, curling her legs up close beneath her body and leaning against the overstuffed armrest.

"Stefan created that garden for me out there.", She says wistfully, nodding once towards the large floor-to-ceiling windows where the overgrown garden is seen.

"He knew how much I enjoyed one particular rose - a rare one - so he had the garden filled with them. The bleeding black rose. It's a beautifully, fascinating bloom, really."

A small smile is given to Quinlin as Shey looks over to him.

"Forgive my absent-mindedness; is there anything at all I can get for you?"

[Barton Henning]

I had my reservation about leaving Shey alone with Torr, but I left none the less. It had struck me that I didn't even know where I was going, but the sirens lead me to the right place. I followed the crowds and the buzz, like any good beat cop, and wound up on the doorstep of a tall apartment building. There was a small angry crowd outside, being held back by one watch officer who I didn't recognize.

"You can't keep us out of our own homes!" one voice shouted.

"This is an outrage!" said another.

I watched the rookie, as he strained under the pressure of the job, and couldn't help but smile. I pushed my way through to the front, and confronted the officer.

"Sorry, you'll have to step back, sir."

"Corporal, stand aside."

"No entrance allowed, sir."

"Don't give me that, rookie."

I fixed him with a stony glare.

"You think old Vymes will be happy when he hears you've been obstructing the course of justice, boy? You think Burckharf will be pleased with you? You don't want to be in a bad way with that woman - it's coming around to that time of the month. I don't think anyone will be keeping you on their Winter Solstice card list if you keep this act up, sunshine, now step aside before I have your behind thrown in corrective detention."

It worked like a charm. I slipped by and made my way carefully up the stairs, making sure I wasn't about to bump into any old friends along the way. Thankfully, it seemed as though forensics had either already been and gone, or hadn't arrived yet. Either way, I wasn't going to take any chances – I had to be quick. The door was slightly ajar, so I ducked beneath the red tape and into the apartment room.

There on the floor before me was the white-chalked outline of a dead man. The body had been removed, but clean up hadn't mopped the blood away yet. That showed that Acaana and her team would be along soon. As I moved in further, I made sure to walk softly, not treading on anything or shifting anything out of its place.

The place was all messed up. Someone had been through almost every draw in the room. I decided to do the same. It was, I found, impossible to work out exactly what they had been looking for – as there was a highly likelihood that they had found it, and taken it within them. I did realize one thing, however. The murderer had lifted every scrap of information on the search for the crystal – maps, reports, everything.. As I looked up at a bulletin board on the wall, sporting postcards, memo's and the like, I saw something that caught my eye. It was a piece of paper, which had been all but torn away from the board. It said 'Team/Personnel…' and nothing else.

I stuffed the scrap into my pocket and was about to go through one final cabinet when I heard voices and footsteps approaching. They were the footsteps of Watchmen.

"Yes, sir, he told me was with the Watch."

I froze, spun, a trapped animal looking for an escape. If they found me here, I'd be off the case, and work, thrown in jail. Frankly, I couldn’t afford to go to jail. Frantic, I hurried to the window and looked out – down below was a stairwell of a fire exit, that lead down into an alleyway, complete with trash cans and the like. With a silent prayer, I slid myself through the window and dropped down onto the grating below. Once last bound and I was over the edge, dropping down into the stinking bowels of one of the open dumpsters.

"Where is he then?"

I held my breath, and pressed back against the squelching contents of the dumpster. Up above, the Watchmen were trying to find me, and I had no doubts that they would look out the window eventually. Finally I saw the gangly corporal leaning out, looking up and down the alley. Luckily, a large bag of rotten fruit was hiding me well and I managed to hop out of the bin without being spotted.

Brushing away the grime and refuse from my coat and hat, I found I could remove the traces but not the smell. I was lifting, the stench of garbage mixed with sweat. I hadn't dived out of a window in a long time - and you know what? It felt good.

I decided I'd have to take the longer route back to the estate, so continued off down the alleyway, hoping to catch my bearings once I'd gotten out at the end. It was going to be a long walk – I didn't fancy I'd make it home before it got dark, and I was right. Evening was curling in as I made my way back up the drive, looking as though I had just been dragged through a wet hedge and back.

[Quinlin Torr]

Quinlin smiled and shook his head, he didnt need anything, if he hungered he could always find his prey somewhere else. He stood there looking out at the darkness and the flowers which bloomed. He slowly walked over to the large windows and peered out.

Roses......Black Roses......the Roses.

"Shey?"

He spoke softly, just enough for her to hear, then he turned to look at her.

"It's crazy....but....do you think you're repeating the word Roses would be a clue to something waiting for you......out there in your garden?"

He gestured with a nod back at the outside gardens and her black roses.

"It's worth a gander dont you think? I mean, why would you subconsciously remember your roses."

Hazel eyes fixed upon the dark blossoms as his hand went for the latch to open the glass portals and out he went.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

"Hm?", she responds when hearing Quinlin softly call out her name, drawing her attention to him once again.

The mentioning of Roses being something of a clue for her causes her brows to knit gently and her dark eyes to drift from Quinlin to the glass doors and out to the gardens.

"I suppose it's possible; though what Stefan would want me to recall when thinking of the roses escapes me."

Slowly, Shey rises from the loveseat, her skirt rustling against her legs like murmured words whispered against silk. She crosses the parlor to step outside a pace or two behind Quinlin.

Across the stepping stones and to the overgrown gardens; once underneath the canopy created by the thick roses trained to grow over a trellis that's been built to provide a flowery roof over the garden, their eyes behold such beauty that it brings tears to Shey's eyes.

Growing along with the bleeding black roses are other roses of varying variety and a myriad of colors, providing the perfect splash of vibrant colors mixed with the sharp, foreboding shade of black.

"Beware of the Black Rose. The edges of its petals are deceiving. Sharp as razorblades; hence the lacking of thorns along their stems. See?"

Carefully, Sheyleigh gently bends one black rose aside, showing Quinlin the lack of thorns.

"The crimson blood seeps from the tips of the petals continuously, drawing in its own victims with the sweet and fragrant scent. Herbivores think they're getting a sweet treat when trying to nibble the petals of the black rose. All they end up getting is severe cuts on their lips and tongues. Then death."

Shey walks over to Quinlin and lifts her eyes to meet his.

"A few drops of the blood bled from one of these roses can kill a small child in twenty-four hours. Easily. Fascinating ... isn't it?"

Slowly, Sheyleigh strolls along the narrow path layed out in stone, admiring the roses - each and every one of them.

"Stefan knew that one day I hoped to give him a son. He had the poison removed from these particular roses before they were transplanted into this garden for me."

Swiping away a lone tear from the outer corner of her eye, she turns on her heels and looks to Quinlin, canting her head gently to one side.

"Remember the roses, Sheyleigh..."

Though her eyes are sharp and alert, there's a touch of dreaminess to them as she allows her mind to drift back to that day.

"It was just a few days after we had returned from a spur of the moment vacation. We had gone to Tralus; to the mountains. It was very romantic and very beautiful up there."

A wistful smile adorns her lips and her eyes drift over the roses once more then return to Quinlin's.

"He whisked me away. Stole my heart all over again. He was my everything."

A two minute pause and she takes a deep breath, slowly releasing it to stave off the fresh onslaught of tears that threaten to spill forth from her eyes.

"He was one of the top designers at Corellian Engineering Corporation. Stefan was promoted rapidly within the company, achieving his status there within a year's time and transferred to the military division. He was responsible for designing ships and stardrives."

"I remember how excited he was when telling me about this new design he was working on. I asked him what it was but he said he couldn't; that it was classified as top secret but that it was something wonderful - it would aid the Republic and help keep the free peoples of the galaxy safe from tyranny."

As she speaks, she wanders a bit more, taking pause by a few select rose bushes - always returning to one in particular. The thickest bush of the black roses, trying to peer down the center of the bush as if looking for something that may have fallen down there.

"He took me to Tralus so we could celebr .... What's this?", She asks distractedly, looking for a way to reach down into the heart of that thick bush.

"Quinlin, could you grab my cloak for me off the back of the chair in the parlor?"

[Quinlin Torr]

"Beware of the Black Rose. The edges of its petals are deceiving. Sharp as razorblades; hence the lacking of thorns along their stems. See?"

Carefully, Sheyleigh gently bends one black rose aside, showing Quinlin the lack of thorns.

"The crimson blood seeps from the tips of the petals continuously, drawing in its own victims with the sweet and fragrant scent. Herbivores think they're getting a sweet treat when trying to nibble the petals of the black rose. All they end up getting is severe cuts on their lips and tongues. Then death."

Shey walks over to Quinlin and lifts her eyes to meet his.

"A few drops of the blood bled from one of these roses can kill a small child in twenty-four hours. Easily. Fascinating ... isn't it?"

It was very fascinating, something so beautiful could be so deadly. It was the same with him.....Angelic face, porcelain skin....Charming....his beauty.....but like the black roses, he too survived on blood...his being deadly....they shared that in common. Something he didnt think he could tell her yet....or ever.

He walked with her, listening to her talk of her late husband....his mind went to Sabina, his angel.....and the life he couldve had with her if it weren't stolen from them. He came back to reality to continue his slow walk with Shey, Stopping at the huge bush.

He watched her reach for something then ...she spoke to him with a request. A simple one which he did for her.

"Quinlin, could you grab my cloak for me off the back of the chair in the parlor?"

"Yes, of course......I'll get it."

He went quickly and grabbed her cloak. He quickly made his way back to her and handed her the item.

"Here you go."

[Sheyleigh Castille]

"Thank you. I think I see something down there and I don't wish to cut myself."

Taking her cloak and tossing it over her shoulders, she pulls up the lower corner hem and drapes it around her hand and wrist a few times. The velvet will be cut by the rose petals edges but atleast her hand and wrist would not.

Carefully, Sheyleigh begins navigating her hand down into the center of the bush, the gentle sound of the velvet being torn slowly and steadily is heard.

'Ow!" She hisses, drawing a sharp breath between clenched teeth. One of the tips brushed against the side of her arm, creating a long, thin cut; deeper than a paper cut.

Moving more carefully, she continues to weave her hand down into the center of the bush. Droplets of her own blood drip, drip, drip from her arm to meld with the blood droplets dripping from the tips of the rose bush.

Stretching her fingertips out, wriggling them a few times, she manages to pinch the corner of what feels like a plastic baggie between her finger's tips.

Without thought, and in too much of a hurry to see what could possibly have been down there in the first place, she jerks her arm back out; again, giving herself another fresh cut parallel to the other.

"Oww! Ugh. I should have heeded my own tale, hm?"

For but a moment, her treasure is forgotten as she unfurls her cloak from her hand and wrist and examines the cuts on her arm.

"Well, I can tend to these inside in a moment. First ..."

Sheyleigh looks up to Quinlin and then lifts the plastic baggie-like item to try to get a better look at it in the moon's light filtering down through the green leaf and rose canopy.

"This garden has never had one piece of litter in it. Ever. I wonder what this could be..."

Just as papercuts sting like a b*tch, so do her two cuts, which draw her attention again.

"Mmm, ouch. I think I need to clean these out and wrap them. I forgot how much it stings to get cut by one of those petals."

Quinlin's eyes may be much sharper than Sheyleigh's, so he might notice that within the plastic baggie-like pouch Shey's pinching in her finger's tips is a cd of some kind. Well, the shape of one is outlined where the baggie is pulled taut by her grasp.

[Quinlin Torr]

Quinlin averted his eyes from her wounds when she stood up and inspected them. The blood, He steeled himself and slowly turned back....making it seem he had his attention caught be some unseen phantom. He gently took her arm and looked at her cuts.

"Well, they dont require sutures....but lets get them taken cared of shall we? "

He walked with her back inside and all the while kept glancing at the treasure they found. It looked to be some kind of disc, maybe it held information to the crystal....or about it. He was anxious to get looking, but she needed attention first.

The servant brought over a med kit and Quinlin sat with her on the small loveseat, she looking at the baggie while he cleaned and dressed her cuts. Gently running the alcohol swab oer the wound, he slightly grimaced with her as she responded to the stinging liquid.

"Sorry."

He said softly and placed a small gauze and bandage around her arm.

"There....all better now."

He said with a smile and placed the kit components on the table.

"Now....lets have a look at what we found."

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Her face contorts with a wince and a grimace, the stinging from the alcohol swab against the open wounds, causing the reaction.

"Thank you."

She whispers back, lifting her arm and looking at the bandage.

"It feels better already."

Sheyleigh bestows a smile to Quinlin then takes the plastic baggie and opens it up. Carefully, she removes the disk and looks at it.

"This looks like the disks Stefan used to store his data from CEC on. I wonder how it got in the bushes."

A troubled expression mars Shey's otherwise delicate features; again, she looks to Quinlin.

"Well. I suppose we ought to take a look at what's stored on this. If you'll follow me, we'll go to his study and use his computer."

Fluidly she rises from the loveseat, leaving the discarded bandages and gauze for the servant; whom cleans up immediately.

From the parlor, Sheyleigh leads Quinlin past the foyer again and up the spiral staircase. Once to the top, she pads down a long hallway and enters the last room on the right.

Stefan's study.

Immaculately clean, decorated in rich and lavish colors of emerald and mahogany - everything left exactly as he had it on the day that he was killed. Unless one knew that her husband has been gone for the past five years or so, they'd assume that he was simply at work; due to return in a few hours.

Across the room to his desk and Shey sits down behind it, activating the computer, she motions to another comfortable high-back leather chair.

"Please, sit down. I'm not sure how many files he has on this so it may take a little while."

With the comp booted up, Shey inserts the datadisk into the tower and waits for a moment.

Schematics of one of the most advanced stardrives ever designed begin filling the screen. One image inparticular draws her immediate attention and Shey opens the files for it.

Suddenly, all the other images dissolve into nothing as they are replaced with the classified documents he mentioned to her long ago.

"Huh? What is all of this?"

Sitting forward and propping her elbows against the edge of the desk, Sheyleigh stares intently at the information scrolling up the screen.

Information pertaining to the Eternity Crystal - its known location, coordinates for a ships navcomputer, and more - scroll past. Other information as to just what it is that the CEC planned to use it for begins appearing and Sheyleigh gasps in shocked disbelief at what she reads.

The newest of the CEC's military line will use crystals for fueling a new weapons system designed by Stefan Castille. Using the energies created when 3 certain types of crystals are conjoined with the light of a laser, the power of the laser will be incredible! CEC will be able to claim being the first and only company to own the copyrights of a weapon that could obliterate entire moons in one fell swoop. Thanks to Stefan Castille's discovery of the location of the Eternity Crystal, the CEC will be able to take this weapons system a whole step further...

"This .. this can't be right! My Stefan would never work for the Imperials! He'd never create such a weapon as this!"

Her petite body trembles. Anger and fear the root cause of her reaction.

Just as she's about to exit out of the classified files, Stefan's voice comes through the computer speakers.

"Sheyleigh, my love. If you hear me now, it means I am gone. Obviously, you've remembered the roses, darling. Please, I beg of you ... do not believe everything you read in these files. Take this disk to the highest Republican Authorities. Trust no one, Sheyleigh. No One!

"I can't talk long. You must get to the crystal and turn it over to the right people. You'll know who they are when the time comes. I didn't do it, Sheyleigh! I swear! Trust my love for you and believe me.

"Those who are behind the creation of this super weapon are ...."

A loud and sudden blast of static sounds through the speakers then there is silence.

Sheyleigh, with her fingertips touching the monitor - as if she could feel her husband's touch - remains very still.

The tears in her eyes can be held back no longer. Slowly at first, one by one, they trickle down her cheeks; dropping from her chin to dot the desktop with tiny pools of salt water.

Her shoulders hitch deeply as her head hangs low.

"Stefan..."

[Barton Henning]

I couldn't help but feeling I was intruding upon a private moment as I lingered in the doorway of the study. The house keeping had recognized me, in spite of my bedraggled appearance, and lead me upstairs – taking my coat, hat and shoes to dry them off. I'd only caught the last of what was being said on the recording (and, unfortunately, the static blast too), but it was clear that some how the plot was managing to get thicker by the minute.

I didn't say anything – I didn't know what to say, frankly. I knew what I knew, but I wasn't sure where that pieced into the puzzle yet, so until it became relevant, I would remain the only one in the know, so to speak.

[Quinlin Torr]

He had moved to her side when the voice of her husband came out over the systems speakers. His eyes narrowed at the screen showing the information of a weapons system of great power....something to use as a weapon of mass destruction. The Eternity Crystal could harness this power? He thought it could only create time travel according to myth.

This was getting more interesting and intriguing by the moment. But he was determined to get his chance at happiness....he was determined to save Sabina.

And when he heard her husband's voice....and seen her reaction, his "wants" from this personal mission seem to fade.

Squatting next to her he gently lifted her head by the chin to look at him.

"Shey.....we'll find the crystal. And get this info to whomever its supposed to go to. And your husband is wrong about one thing.....trusting no one. You can trust me. "

He reached up and wiped her tears with his thumbs.

" Now, lets make a copy, hide it in a safe place, and decide who to take this disc to. "

He smiled up at her, trying to get her out of this meloncholy mood. The nagging feeling coming back as he looked into her eyes.....'I know you.....'

[Sheyleigh Castille]

While Quinlin shows a moment or two of tenderness, Shey notices Barton at the doorway from the corner of her eye. With a nod to Quinlin, two actually, she turns and sniffles quietly while swiping her palm against one cheek to rid her skin of the last of the salty wetness.

"Barton, welcome back.", She states while beginning to rise from the plush leather chair behind Stefan's desk.

"What did you find?"

Seeing Barton's subtle motion for her to remain seated, she sits back down and flits a look to the computer screen. Her fingers are still a bit shakey as she begins clicking the arrow on certain files and copies them. A few she doesn't copy; she intends to keep those private - as they should be.

Knitting her brows once more, she opens another file and reads the information on the screen, nodding slowly.

"Gentlemen. Do either of you own a ship?"

Apparently, she's found something of possible great use information wise so she looks up to both men, almost expectantly.

[Quinlin Torr]

Standing up, he turns his attention to the doorway as she speaks Barton's name. He grins in greeting to the man and moves to lean against the wall nearest to the spot he was in.

"What did you find?"

His head canted tot he right as he waited for an answer. An glanced at her as she began to make the copy they needed. Looking back up to Barton, He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Gentlemen. Do either of you own a ship?"

He looked back at her seeing her expression.

" I'm not sure about Mr.Henning, But I do....It's in port right now."

[Barton Henning]

"There's our ride, then."

I turned from the room and began to walk out, anticipating the others would follow. I owned no ship. I hadn't been off Coruscant in years, and public transport was enough to get me around most places if they were too far to walk. It seemed like we were both wondering what the other party had found, but were all too wound up and nervous about getting onto the next step of the story to let on. You could have cut the suspense with a knife.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Of course. She has her own ship but with the way things have been happening lately, she doesn't think it'd be such a hot idea to take her own. Better to take someone else's in the event her home is being watched.

"Alright then. Let me finish with this here real quick then I'll catch up to the both of you."

Sheyleigh's look softens as she watches the two men slip out the door and into the hall.

With a few clicks of the mouse, another file is opened on her husband's computer. This one was titled by name: 'Twilight Rose'.

A bunch of code she can't decipher begins scrolling rapidly over the screen. Figuring it -might- be something useful, she copies that as well.

When finished, the chair is pushed back and she rises; returning Stefan's chair back to the way it was before. A final look around his study then the lights dim and go out, bathing the room in darkness. Sheyleigh enters a code into the small pad next to the door then shuts the door behind her; catching up to Barton and Quinlin.

"Barton. Where you able to find anything at Professor Glent's?"

She asks once more, sliding her hand along the rail as she pads down the spiral staircase.

[Quinlin Torr]

Quinlin stood waiting for them. He kept his manners about him and leaned against the wall, letting Shey get the information she needed from Barton. Tilting his head forward, his chestnut colored hair fell over his face. His eyes closed as he thought back to the person this was all for.....Sabina.

Her laughter echoed within his head, the face flashed before his mind's eye....then he suddenly got hit by a ton of bricks....no...it can't

He slowly brought his head up and some of his bangs parted from his eyes. His eyes slightly narrowed as he took in her features.....by the gods.....she did resemble.....He looked away quickly, so thats why he had that feeling of deja vu....it was her all along.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

As Sheyleigh awaits a response from Barton, she tends to the tasks of informing her staff via a note that she will be gone for an indefinite amount of time. She also informs them that she will make contact with them weekly, so they don't worry and send out a search party or anything of the like.

Sensing a set of eyes upon her, feeling them looking her over from head to toe and back again, she can't help but to allow the faintest of smiles to appear. She use to get that same tingling sensation when Stefan would gaze upon her. Her smile fades, the memories of how he'd make her feel flood her emotions and she bites her lower lip until it turns white.

Finished with the note to the staff, she rights herself and looks to Quinlin then to Barton while sweeping her cloak over her shoulders.

[Barton Henning]

"I was. I worked out what that nutcase was looking for, what his motivate was."

I paused to watch the moment between Quinlin and Shey once again. I wasn't liking this silent secret they were sharing one bit. It made my hair bristle on the back of my neck. Frowning, I flicked up the collar of my cat and pulled my hat down a little lower.

"He took a personnel list, from the apartment. Seems like he has his hit list."

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Shey's head cants to the side slightly as she watches Barton's body language. Particularly the way he flipped up the collar of his coat, the motion rather sharp.

As the clasp of her cloak is secured with its partner, she nods slowly.

"A hit list? Did you happen to get a copy of this personnel list or anything? See any names lying around or anything?"

Her fingers are shaking, making it difficult to fix the twisted hem of her cloak. A jerky snap of the corner causes the velvet satin-lined material to make an actual snapping sound, which may sound louder than it actually is due to the size of the empty foyer near the front door.

Once Barton and Quinlin are ready, the door is opened and the three exit the mansion. Sheyleigh walks along a pace behind and to the right of Quinlin, letting him lead the way to his ship.

"Barton, is there something ... troubling you?" Of course that is a strange question to ask considering the circumstances, but it's one that helps keep Shey's mind off the fear that has embedded itself deep within her bones.

At the back of her mind, other thoughts linger. If Professor Glent is dead and if the crazed man from the museum truly does possess a hit list .... why? Who? Are they being followed? Are they being led into a trap? Does CEC have anything to do with this?

The endless questions go on and on.

"Oh, be careful there, Quinlin. The gates are electrified." She warns the gentleman as they near the set of gates which separate the landing pad from the rest of the grounds.

"Barton, may I have a moment with you?"

She asks while watching Quinlin pass through the gates and head over towards his ship.

"We'll be right there. Maybe you should prepare the ship and we'll board in just a moment.", She calls out to Quinlin before looking to Barton once more.

[Quinlin Torr]

Quinlin watched Henning, his movements were a little weird. His eyes narrowed as he took in the peculiar way he flipped his collar and pulled the hat down. Shey too, but she seemed to have trouble rather than acting weird.

He glanced at Shey one more time, the small smile showing. He moved to the doorway when the others walked to it.

Walking across the expanse of land he glanced back at her, then looked forward, his eyebrows furrowing. Why did she have to look like her? It was uncanny.

He carefully watched himself around the gate after she called out to him about it being electrified. As he walked through and to his ship she called for him to get the ship ready. He turned and smiled once more, then walked to the ship.

Remotely opening the ramp, he boarded the luxuriously revamped Feizon gunboat. He set about preparing the ship for take off.

[Barton Henning]

I watched as Torr boarded the ship. We were in this together now, the three of us. Once we boarded that ship, there was no going back. From the moment we'd all met, there had been no going back. We were caught up in something now, and things like this, I'd learned, don't tend to let you go. They wrap you up and smother you, until you realize that no matter how hard you run from it, every corner you turn you'll find it.

I realized I was getting lost in my thoughts and pulled myself away, to look up at Shey. She had wanted to know if there was a copy of the hit list – sadly the killer hadn't been kind enough to produce one. I wanted to tell her that I knew the answers to all the questions in her head, but I couldn't.

"… What's on your mind?"

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Along with Barton, Sheyleigh watched Quinlin board his ship. Another minute passed, then Shey turned her attention to the private detective. Something about the man, maybe the way he carries himself or maybe its the way he speaks .. she isn't sure .. but something about him makes her feel that of all people - she can trust him the most.

"I didn't want to say anything with Quinlin close by, but your name was mentioned in one of the files on my husband's computer."

Her lower lip is taken lightly between her teeth, then chewed on thoughtfully as her dark eyes study the facial expression of Barton.

"I don't know if you've ever had dealings with my Stefan, but if you had, please ... tell me?"

The possibility that her husband was going to employ Barton for reasons tied into this Eternity Crystal have crossed her mind, but first, she must find out if Barton has any idea of just who she is.

Slowly, she begins to walk towards the ship, sliding her left arm into Barton's as he escorts her across the rest of the open tarmac area.

[Barton Henning]

"His name doesn't ring a bell."

I thought back. I'd met a lot of people in my life, most of them criminals. In the Watch, I'd bagged hundreds. As a PI, I'd no doubt been employed by hundreds. Either way, I'd seen a broad section of Coruscants population in my time. I didn't imagine for a second that people gave me their real names when hiring me. It was too risky for them, and better for me, so I didn't end up in another web.

Jokingly, he added, "Maybe I knew him once in a past life."

[Sheyleigh Castille]

At the base of the boarding ramp, Sheyleigh stops and turns, facing Barton; her expression serious.

"That isn't funny, Mr. Henning. I have to believe that there are other lives to live. It's a comfort to believe that I may once again share a life with my Stefan. A life that won't leave either of us robbed of time together."

Ouch. His words cut straight into her heart, evident by the way she addresses him as Mr. Henning instead of Barton. The pain shines in her dark eyes as she slides her arm away from his. Turning, slender fingers inch up the hem of her skirt a few inches and she boards Quinlin's ship.

A glance to her left then to her right.

"Quinlin?"

Rounding the corner to the right, she eases her way along the corridor towards the cockpit of the ship until reaching the door; then she peeks in.

"Here. The coordinates of where we're to go first are encoded within the disk."

Sheyleigh doesn't mention where they're going. Instead, she hands to the disk over to Quinlin to slide into the navcomputer.

[Barton Henning]

I thought about protesting, apologizing, but it didn't matter. She was away, in all senses of the word. Her mind was totally focused on him. I boarded the ship and followed behind slowly, tracing her footsteps until I came to where she stood and Quinlin sat. It was hard to not feel like a third wheel.

[Quinlin Torr]

Taking the disc, he stood up and moved along the pilots station. He inserted he disc into the navcom and pushed a few buttons. He got back in the seat and completed the prep. Pushing the yellow glowing button to his left, he placed a headset on his head.

After a few more buttons, the ship gracefully lifted and he angled it to the heavens and towards space. Once away from the atmosphere, they travelled for a distance before he took them into hyperspace...he stood up and went to another computer and started to type into it......after a strange language flashed across the small screen he nodded and stood up. Turning to the two he smiled and gestured for them to follow him.

"I got the coordinates locked in, the ship can practically drive itself. This ship is pretty luxurious if you know where to go....follow me."

He led them to another compartment where it was decked out in leather seats and a comfortable atmosphere. He motioned with his hand as they entered.

"We have some time before we reach our destination, please feel free to help yourself to the refreshments...drinks of all flavors are in that chill box there. I need to retire to my cabin for a while....It's my....condition, I need rest, so please excuse me and forgive my rudness."

He went to the rear most cabin and entered it, he was near his sleep time, and when they arrive at their destination, it was calculated as they would hit during daylight hours, he needed his strength to fight if neccessary....he drank the blood from the bottle he had in the chill box he kept in his cabin and laid down for a short nap.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Standing in the comfortable room that Quinlin led both she and Barton too, Sheyleigh arches a brow slightly when Quinlin mentions a condition. Curiousity piqued, though she's far too polite to ask, she simply nods to the man and offers a small smile just before he departs.

Twisting her body from the waist up to look over to Barton, Shey clasps her hands, arching her brow a bit more.

"His condition? Is he ill?"

[Quinlin Torr]

Hazel eyes snapped open and he sat up in the bunk. He ran a hand through his hair and looked around. Swinging his legs off and standing up, Quinlin padded over to the small closet and brought out the new bodysuit. Slipping into it, he pulled on his boots and attached the pull over lycra mask to the back of the neck. Slipping on his gloves, he made his way to the guest cabin where he had left them earlier.

Stepping into the larger cabin, he smiled at them in greeting.

"Again, I apologize for me disappearing like that. I hope the refreshments were satisfactory. I will check where we are as of this point, feel free to lounge about here or you may join me in the pilots station if you wish."

Glancing at Sheyleigh, he grinned and turned towards the front room where the pilot and copilot seats were. Entering the station, he slid into the plush leather seat and began checking coordinates. Not too long now. Soon the caliedescope effect of Hyperspace would dissipate and normal space would return. And thats when questions would be answered as they would land to get the answers they were seeking.

[Barton Henning]

I had lurched forwards with the take off. Space flight had never been my favorite of methods of travel, that much was certain. Yet inspite of this, here I was, jetting off to unknown horizons with the man in rose-tinted glasses and the unwilling widow. I looked between my travelling partners with growing dismay. What had I gotten myself into? As if it would calm my nerves, I took the offer of a drink from the chill box, picking out the strongest I could find.

"Anyone else want anything?" I asked, as the liquid sloshed into the glass, quickly to be downed in a single gulp.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

The fact that Barton didn't answer her question about Quinlin's condition doesn't go unnoticed by Sheyleigh. Figuring that its best left unanswered for the time being, she lets it rest.

For now.

Quinlin's reappearance startles Shey just a bit as she didn't expect anyone to come by just yet, so she jumps and gasps audibly, turning around to see Quinlin standing there.

A breath of relief is let out and she smiles to him. Funny, her Stefan use to don attire similar to that of what Quinlin wears now. Remembering that, her smile wanes and she looks to Barton.

"Please, just some water if there is any. I'd like to see the cockpit if that is alright. Barton? Will you join us up there?"

She asks as she glances over her shoulder from the center of the doorway. A smile is given to Barton then she follows the narrow corridor to the cockpit.

"Hello again. May I join you?"

Indicating that its alright, Shey slides into the co-pilots seat and looks at the controls in awe.

"Um, where are we exactly? Your navigational controls are much different from those on my personal craft; a bit confusing to me."

Sheyleigh has this thing for pushing buttons - she sees them and she has to push them to see what they do. There are so many! Like a kid in a candy store and she's eager to push them all.

However, she shows much restraint by not touching anything.

[Quinlin Torr]

He smiled as she entered. Gesturing to the seat next to him, he went about checking one of the systems. Thats when she spoke up and addressed the situation of where they were.

"Um, where are we exactly? Your navigational controls are much different from those on my personal craft; a bit confusing to me."

Quinlin turned hazel eyes upon her and pointed at the small starmap showing on one of the screens.

" We're right here. I'd say about ohhhh...twenty minutes from our destination. Give or take a parsect."

He smirked.

She was looking at the buttons on the console and he had to smile. He knew she wanted to touch one of them...maybe all of them. He'd let her help when the time was right. She would quench the urge to push a button. Leaning over, he pointed to a nice blue button high to the left of her near the starmap.

"In about fifteen minutes, if you dont mind helping me? Could you push that one there? Just watch this light indicator here, once it flashes....hit that button to take us out of Hyperspace."

Looking at her he spoke softer.

"That's if you dont mind helping me."

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Sheyleigh sits up and leans forward a bit to better view the starmap as Quinlin points it out, nodding her head slowly.

"Ahh, well then. That's good."

Her eyes are cast downwards, watching his hand as it moves past her to point to a nice and shiny blue button. When he mentions helping him, she looks at him and smiles some.

"Just watch this light indicator here, once it flashes....hit that button to take us out of Hyperspace."

"I don't mind helping and it'll make me feel - useful - for once."

The look on his face, the glint in his eyes and his softened tone makes Sheyleigh smile a bit more. Ok ok, so he's figured out that she is just dying to push atleast one button!

[Barton Henning]

I joined the couple in the cockpit, bringing a glass of water for Sheyleigh. As I sat down, I felt overwhelmed by what was before me. I wasn't much for technology, but then I never had been. I was something of a traditionalist, I guess. The thought that a machine could be smarter than me wasn't a comforting one. I almost volunteered to help, but it seemed like Shey was keeping everything under control for Quinlin, and enjoying it too.

[Quinlin Torr]

Getting out of the pilots seat, Quinlin gestured for Barton to take it. He needed to check something.

"Barton, please take this seat.... just make sure we're keeping on a straight path, these buttons here control the pitch of the ship...it pretty much flies itself, but I like to have someone make sure it does....Thanks."

Moving to the far end of the compartment, Quinlin sat down and inserted the disc Shey had given him earlier. Typing a few keys, the screen flashed and symbols scrolled up. He hit a few more and it decoded them, it was info on where they were heading.

Jerne
this dead world was, at one time in ancient history, the homeworld of the Jerni civilization. After the demise of the Jerni, Jerne was colonized by humans and used until it was nearly destroyed. Under the auspices of the New Order, Jerne became a hotbed of rebellious activity. It has two moons. The 'Eternity Crystal' has been rumored to have been here...it was lost in a recovery attempt and has not been found since.

He rubbed his chin in thought, his hazel eyes squinted slightly. Who was looking for it then? What happened? Typing on several more keys, he brought up another screen...this one held more info of the planetary region.

Adony Station
this Imperial depot, located on the planet Jerne, was rumored to be the resting place of the Eternity Crystal. During the galactic civil war, agents tried to gain possesion of the Eternity Crystal and in doing so, caused the destruction of th estation as well as the Eternity Crystal itself. much of Adony Station was destroyed and the Crystal ....lost.

He leaned back and stared at the screen....it was there waiting for them. He felt it in his soul as well as his intuition. He glanced over at the two at the pilot's station...a grin appeared as he watched Shey press the button he mentioned and brought the ship out of Hyperspace. Barton was making sure the ship was on course and not straying. His attention went back to the info blinking on the screen before him... It was what they were needing....a finger in the right direction.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Sheyleigh, pretty excited that she gets to press a button (oh the joys!) does so when the indicator tells her to do so - with a giddy little "Ooo" as she does it, too. :)

The streaking stars soon turn mottled, then suddenly they're there, shimmering and twinkling against the black velvet of deep space like diamonds set against coal.

Sheyleigh looks to Barton, a rather childish yet pretty smile on her face.

"Barton, you look rather uncomfortable sitting there. Then again, you look rather - handsome and authoritive, sitting there, too."

Shey winks to Barton and turns back to the viewport, her eyes growing gently wider as the planet lumbers into view.

"Magnificent, isn't it?"

[Quinlin Torr]

Quinlin turned once more to watch Shey at the controls. He had to smile at the reaction she had in helping out. Resting his chin upon his thumb, and the index finger coming to rest on his cheek...Quinlin kept his gaze upon the woman sitting in the co-pilot seat.

So much like her..... another smile, yes so much like the love he lost. No....she was never lost, stolen...she was stolen from him. Her life snuffed out before they could become as one. He sighed and cleared his mind from that revelation so things of importance could be shared.

" Shey, Barton.....I think you will want to take a look at this. "

He said as he averted his eyes to the screen before him and his finger pointed to it.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

So busy staring at the magnificent sight filling the viewport, it takes a lot for Sheyleigh to pull her eyes from the planet looming ahead and read the information Quinlin has been able to find.
Darkened brows knit gently as she notices the part which states the crystal had been almost completely destroyed and what wasn't, is lost.

"This is the closest I've been able to get in my search. And though it says that much of it was destroyed, it also says that some of it has been lost."

Shey looks to Quinlin, hope shining in her eyes, albeit a desperate hope.

"Do you think we'll be able to find what is left of it?"

[Quinlin Torr]

He looked back at her, not wanting to give her false hope...but he was in this as she was....the hope of fixing past mistakes, to gain back what the two had lost in the ways of love. He glanced downward and then back up, his lips parted....and then finally his voice came out, softer than he expected.

" If it's there, we'll find it.... If it's there Shey."

He looked at the planetary time scale....they needed to land in the dark of night. For if it was light where they were headed....he knew he would be hard pressed to explain why he couldn't disembark from the ship....and it wa plain to him, he would indeed have to tell her what he was.....and if so, would she trust him still?

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Sheyleigh studies the look in Quinlin's eyes. She can see that he's trying valiantly to restrain himself from falling into a false sense of hope; but it's not that easy to do.

Closer than she's ever been in her endeavors to locate and possess the Eternity Crystal; closer to getting her Stefan back and getting back the life that died the same moment he did .... so hard not to get anxious, over-excited, and full of hope.

"Not if. It's there, Quinlin. I can feel it - in here.", Shey places her hand over her heart as she states the last. "Trust me on this. Please?

She looks away, to the screen once more and can't help but to smile some. One step closer to getting her love back.

"Quinlin? What are we waiting for? We need to hurry if we're going to land and continue the search before it gets dark."

Of course, she has no idea that there's something different about Quinlin. If she knew? Who's to say? He hasn't done anything thus far to cause her to fear him. In fact, everything he has done and said has been perfect. If she weren't so in love with her husband - or his memory - she might have fallen for Quinlin himself.

Boy - would that ever complicate things!

Anxious, Sheyleigh sits back in her seat and buckles the safety straps, ready for the ship to descend onto the planet and go through all the customs and regulations that one must go through before they can actually leave the ship and the landing pad.

[Quinlin Torr]

Quinlin was silent. He just looked at her with his hazel eyes surely trying to figure out how he would tell her. It seemed like that time was here and he had a hard time doing so. If it were any other, he would gladly and proudly show them. But with the chance she would or could change how she saw him, he didnt want to say a thing. But he chastised himself as being silly. Why would he feel that way? They were not showing anything to each other....maybe because her likeness to Sabina....it had to be that.

He looked down at the control panel as she walked to the seat and strapped in. He sighed and got up, heading for the pilot's seat. He looked at Shey and she could tell he had something on his mind...something he needed to tell her. But was having difficulty in doing so.

Strapping himself in, he keyed the comm as the planetary spaceport contacted them.

*shhk* Unknown craft....send ID and state your business."

" This is the Brighter Tomorrow, Captain Torr at your service. We are here for trading business. Merchants ya know."

He stated in a rather strange accent and keyed the button to send the ships fake ID. He turned and smirked to Shey, no need to inform the authorities who they really were and their business here were their own. The Eternity Crystal would remain out of their knowledge for now. The less people knew, the less chance of any outside interference. And he and Shey needed no more interference. They had people of thier past waiting for them.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Shey - in all her anxiousness almost blurts out when Quinlin lies to the spaceport controller. But when Quinlin looks at her, she closes her mouth and manages a meager smile. She understands now the reasoning behind his lie, but it makes her nervous that they just might be found out. Then what would happen? She's heard plenty of horror stories about what happens when authorities discover truths.

Once permission was granted and they were given landing coordinates and the open com is turned off, Shey turns to look at Quinlin.

"This is it Quinlin. We're so close to finding the one source that can change our lives forever. For the better! Aren't you excited?!"

It's clear by her tone and the sparkle in her eyes that she hasn't even considered the idea that they just might never find it. Or if they do manage to locate it or even a shard of it, that the Eternity Crystal simply won't work. That it was just a fantasy conjured up by someone who was grieving just a much as she was over someone they loved with everything they have.

To voice - or to even think - of that possibility is too much for the young widow to bear. The idea of spending the rest of her life without Stefan is even more unbearable. Somewhere, in her disillusioned heart, she has to believe that she will be united with her Stefan again in this lifetime.

"Quinlin? Are you alright? You look a little pale."

[Quinlin Torr]

His eyes averted to her quickly. Oh if you only knew Shey...and I think you will soon...very soon He turned back to the viewport and steered the ship into the atmosphere and on a trajectory to the spaceport. The clouds parted and the city below loomed in the distance.

"Well Shey, Barton....there is our destination. Hopefully we can find what we came for."

It was indeed light out, and she could see the distress on his face as he looked at the chrono. They still had a few hours before nightfall....How to tell her.....how to tell her....krast!

[Sheyleigh Castille]

In all honesty, Sheyleigh can care less at the moment about anything. She's this much closer to finding the one thing that can change history! Her history. She can find it, use it to go back to the day her husband was killed, change the events of that day and he will be alive again! He'll never have died because she will prevent it. She'll have her husband back and life will be wonderful.

Shey hurriedly releases the safety straps and slides forward in the chair, resting her slender fingers against the control panel as she watches the clouds part and the spaceport get larger the closer they get to it.

"We will find it, Quinlin. I just know we will. We'll find it, use it for what we need it for then ... well, I don't know what then and I don't think I care right at this moment. I just know we'll find it and things will be all right again. Things will be perfect, as they were meant to be."

Shey looks over to Quinlin, the smile on her face will most likely have to be surgically removed; that's how excited she is. Just another piece of evidence that the possibility of it not existing, not being here or not working if they do find it, hasn't even crossed her mind.

The look on Quinlin's face turns Shey's smile into a gentle frown, her brows knit gently and she reaches over, touching his arm lightly.

"Quinlin? What is it? You look ... are you feeling ill?"

[Cyrel Annat]

Five years ago...

"That's her, Cyrel. The Black Thorn. Only ship of her kind thanks to yours truly."

The blond-haired man performed a mock bow to his companion, complete with sweeping arm. Blue eyes almost twinkled with mirth as he watched the reaction of the other man, the one who would soon be the owner of the prototype ship. It was part of his job, designing ships. This one was a private task, completed about a month prior but it was difficult to track down the rogue Jedi as he made his way across the galaxy.

"Impressive. Very impressive, Stefan. Your skills never cease to amaze me. One day, they may even surpass my own.'

Cyrel's grin was more than enough to let on he was joking. He could tinker here and there to modify certain aspects, but the type of work that Stefan did rivaled the best in the galaxy, in his humble opinion at least.

"It looks like you took a magic wand to an old Jedi Starfighter, but a bit different. Where did you find one of these and what in blazes did you do to it?"

"Bought it dirt cheap and changed it. It's an old Delta-7, highly modified to my personal specifications. The quad-pulse laser cannons are old design, as is the hyperdrive with a bit of tweaking. It's set up to hold up to three seismic charges on the back of it, as well as an extended cockpit to accomodate two people, a pilot and a passenger."

"But why do you need a starfighter with room for two? You already have a ship of your own if you and Shey decide to travel."

"You're right, I do have a ship. As a matter of fact, I have no use for this starfighter. You do."

"I already have a ship. And what need do I have for a passenger? Not like I have a protocol droid to cart around with me."

"First reason, your ship will likely fall to pieces if you accidentally hit a gundark. Second, the ship is yours under one condition. I need you to watch after Sheyleigh for me, especially in the coming years. That is why you may need the extra room."

A few moments of silence passed between the two as the words hung in the air, giving both men time to think though the rogue Jedi was better at reading people than his friend.

"Agreed, and I will not ask for details. I know you well enough to trust your reasons, though I do sense that there is much that could be explained. I shall guard her with my life, old friend."


The details were relayed within the next couple of hours, with the undertaking of a new job and a rather bad feeling surrounding it. Perhaps it was only nerves Stefan had said, considering the magnitude of the job. A few days later, with Cyrel's droid attached to the ship itself, the new pilot of the Black Thorn left the small, secluded hangar.

The next couple years went by rather quickly, with routine meetings between he and Stefan. Cyrel, for the most part, kept to himself save for the time spent on Nar Shaddaa. His most recent return to Coruscant had been to check in on Sheyleigh again.

More recently...

"She's not here, A-4. I do not sense her anywhere close, though she should be. Her ship is still docked as normal. Run a scan through the local ship logs to see if by chance she left with someone on another ship. If anything's happened to her, we likely will not know until it's too late, though I do not sense her to be in immediate danger.'

In the time that the droid searched through air traffic and spaceport systems for logs of passengers at least matching her description (which on Coruscant there were just a couple that fit the bill), Cyrel checked on the ship itself. Five years he'd had it, and it had yet to fail him.

At times he wondered just how far he could push the starfighter. Somehow, he knew that he may soon find out.

[Quinlin Torr]

He looked at her hand upon his shoulder, then slowly his eyes looked up into her own. He knew he'd have to tell her now. He just didn't want to jeopardize anything. Especially now at the point where they were near to thier goal. He stood up and gestured for the rear cabin.

"I have something to tell you....but only you. Please excuse us Barton."

He set the controls for auto pilot and walked back to the rear compartment. Turning to her, he spoke softly. His voice showing a slight fear, but it was a fear of how she may react.

"Shey, I am not ill...I....you see, I am....."

He kept fumbling his words, this was harder than it really was. He chastised himself and looked her directly in the eyes.

"I'm trying to tell you what I am. But know this, I will not harm you nor Barton. That is paramount you understand that, because it is true....I would never let harm come to either of you...."

He sighed....more beating around the bush. He was a son of Khar Sian for kriffing sakes. Why did he fear to tell this one woman?

" Have you not wondered why my skin is so pale, and I wear an outfit that covers my entire body from head to toe during daylight?"

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Shey rises slowly, her brows knitting gently as she flits a glance to Barton then back to Quinlin, hesitant to follow him to the rear cabin. But why?

She follows, her heart rate picking up a little bit and she keeps a respectful distance between herself and Quinlin. As he begins, she nods a few times, as if silently coaxing him along; assuring him its alright to tell her. To go ahead and just say it.

"O-ok. Ok, you won't harm us and you won't let anyone else harm us either. I understand, Quinlin."

His actions, his nervousness, makes Shey grow even more nervous than she was just a few moments ago.

She shakes her head, looking to Quinlin blankly.

"Well, no, not really. I mean, look at me," ... she states as she holds her own arms out to show her bare skin. "I'm almost as pale as you are, Quinlin. I just don't get out in the sun much. I suppose if I were to think about it, I'd assume that you didn't either. "

Sheyleigh lowers her arms, lightly scratching one as an itch prickles her inner elbow.

"I ... I just never thought about it, Quinlin. Ever since I lost Stefan, I wear black all the time. Not covered from head to toe, mind you, but .. I just can't get past the mourning stage of my grief and dispair. I don't know. Maybe you're allergic to the sun or one of those who is extremely photo-sensitive.

"What does any of this matter, Quinlin?"

[Quinlin Torr]

"Trust Shey, From here on we need to be able to trust each other to the fullest. Especially being as close to the goal we both seek."

The silence for the brief moment was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. But if the utmost trust was going to be needed, she would have to know. For surprising her with it during a fight wouldn't be in the best interest for anyone.

" No, you are right. What does it matter? If we didn't trust one another, we would not be here helping one another correct? I am being foolish....." And scared Quinlin. "....Yes, foolish. I'm sorry I am wasting time like this. We are so close to the one big clue so far, and I am acting like this. Please, forgive me."

Alright, so he couldn't do it. The fear of her being afraid of him or causing her to alienate him took over. Hopefully the time to cause a change would not make itself known. Then he could show her at the end of it all....when he was sure she wouldn't care. The ship jarred a bit as they touched down. And he mustered a cordial smile with an apologetic sigh accompanying it.

" We're down, you must be excited. I know I am. Come, I think we've worried....well I've worried you and Barton for too long with this. Let's go find your crystal Shey."

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Sheyleigh nods, growing more and more apprehensive the more Quinlin stumbles over the words he seeks and cannot find. The silence that fell between the two was heavy; like a thick blanket that could snuff out life if one were to allow themselves to beome entangled within it.

She smiles to Quinlin, nodding a few times again.

"Right, we wouldn't be here together if there wasn't any trust, Quinlin. Thus far, you've given me no reason not to trust you."

Her expressions becomes more concerned and she reaches across to give his hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

"I forgive you. In fact, there is nothing to forgive." Her hand draws back as the ship jars upon landing and again, she smiles to him, assuring him that everything is fine and dandy.

"I am! I know we still need to figure out the exact location of where its rumored to have last been, but I can feel it! I just know we're close and that its laying under mounds of dirt just waiting for us to find it."

Sheyleigh follows Quinlin back to the boarding ramp and departs the ship, a lively spring in her step; one that hasn't been there since Stefan left her on the earthly plane a short time ago.

"Where should we begin? Maybe they have a library we can check out. You know, maybe they'll have old records and newstories saved about it?"

[Cyrel Annat]

"The Brighter Tomorrow? I've never heard of that ship before, nor its captain. Why in blazes would she leave the city with two strangers?"

The droid bleeped its response which was all but lost to Cyrel who was too busy trying to answer his own question. Perhaps she knew who those two people were, friends from Coruscant. Perhaps. The droid bleeped again relaying the destination of where the ship had taken off towards, causing Cyrel's eyes to narrow.

The rogue Jedi knew of Stefan's project, albeit in small amounts. Not much information could be disclosed when the two corresponded with each other in the past years. He did, however, know the location of the project, and with all the other rumors that had floated around the galaxy, it did not take him long to discern where Sheyleigh was going.

"Set course of our ship for their destination, A-4. We are leaving now."

The bleep that replied to the rogue's words seemed a little different. It may have been the tone of Cyrel's words that caused it, although droids, being machines, were not one for displaying emotions. But if one weren't mistaken, one might sense an emotion underlying the brief reply. Fear.

Within the hour, the Black Thorn was off-planet and making the jump to hyperspace. There was still some distance to cover in order to catch up to Sheyleigh, but Cyrel's ship was made for this exact purpose. He merely prayed that the distance would not be too great to get there in time.

[Quinlin Torr]

Donning the black mask and body suit, accompanying with the black leather trenchcoat and the dozen of buckled straps adorning the ensamble, Quinlin made his way down the ramp alongside Sheyleigh. The rose tinted circular lenses reflecting the light of the dwindling daylight hours. Pulling the black cowl over his head, Quinlin was smiling underneath the lycra material at her eagerness and excitement.

"They should have a library of some sort but that would probably just keep records of days events. But still it would be news footage and a commotion like what they described in that disc you gave me, it surely would have made the news. If not, we ask around with the locals....someone would be bound to know something."

He brandished a small hand computer and the info came out encrypted. He punched a few buttons with a gloved finger, and it disappeared. He held it up and then stowed it away in his suit's leg pocket.

"And I got the discs information to help along too. It's here..." He looked around, then back at her. "....something of it is anyway. And we'll find it."

He reached up over his shoulder and felt the hilt of his sword. A strange weapon indeed, the handle resembled a pistol grip. The rest was hidden beneath his coat.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Jerne, this dead world was, at one time in ancient history, the homeworld of the Jerni civilization. After the demise of the Jerni, Jerne was colonized by humans and used until it was nearly destroyed. Under the auspices of the New Order, Jerne became a hotbed of rebellious activity. Things seem to have settled down a bit, and though Jerne City isn't as glorious as Shey imagined it might be, there are signs that the people are doing their best to rebuild.

Jerne City itself use to be an Imperial base, some evidence of this still remains amidst the rubble and remains of the structures that have recently been torn down by construction crews. The machinery is loud, smog fills the air and leaves a dirty brownish-orange haze lingering in the air.

"From what I recall in Stefan's notes, there was a station located somewhere around here. Ad ... Adny? No. Adony Station, that's it. According to his notes, this is where the crystal was last reported to have been seen. Though, with all the destruction I see, I wonder if it even still stands."

Shey comments, looking a touch forlorn for a brief moment, as if losing a ray of hope that they'll find it at all.

"Does it say anything else in your datapad about it? Maybe we can pull up a map of the city. Might be easier to find the museum or some sort of hall of records."

Sheyleigh adjusts her cloak as the light wanes from the sky and darkness begins to blanket the lands, fliping the deeply cowled hood over her head then tucking a few errant strands of long dark hair inside of it and behind her ear.

[Quinlin Torr]

The handputer was out again from it's confines of his suit pockets. A gloved hand gracefully moved across the buttons that were recessed into the surface of the slim datapad. As he pushed the last series of buttons, the mini screen flashed and a small map showed. Quinlin's head slowly rose from it's tilted state as he looked from the datapad to the destination they must head off too. His arm rose and a finger pointed to the distance.

"Yes, the remnants of the station lies due north from here. In the heaviest damaged part of Jerne. Should be about twenty minutes by speeder."

Quinlin said as he walked to a part of his ship near the aft. Pushing a hidden button, the underbelly area hissed and hummed as a small elevator ramp descended with a small speeder. It hovered upon its cradle, and Quinlin pushed it off the ramp and onto the open space of the ships port they were berthed. Walking over to her, he held his hand out to help her into the small craft.

" Most of the station is reported to be destroyed. But there could be a slim chance we may find something. According to the info on the disc, no one has found anything since the destruction. So there lies our ray of hope....that the crystal still rests under or among the rubble of Adony Station."

[Cyrel Annat]

A series of bleeps came from the droid during midflight, since there really wasn't a whole lot that one could do when traveling through lightspeed. The rogue Jedi chuckled a bit to himself at the apparent questioning from his A-4 unit.

"Yes, I know where they are headed. I know exactly where they are headed. I just do not know who else may be there waiting for them, or just lurking about. It has been long enough since the last reports of official activity in that area that there's no real telling what has come in during the meantime."

What, indeed. No doubt Sheyleigh and her party would not be the first group of unofficial scavengers to the area. The question would merely be what they would find inside the remains of the station. He knew there was no way for him to arrive there before Shey and her companions. He just hoped that he could arrive in time to help them if it were needed.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Shey, just like an anxious little kid on a mission to see Mickey Mouse, scoots up close to Quinlin as he looks at the small hand-held computer, looking over everything he sees. When Quinlin looks up to the direction of the Adony Station, Shey does too, the excitement building towards its final - albeit slow building - crescendo.

This feeling is both exhilirating and frustrating. On the one hand, she cannot wait to get her hands on the Crystal and see what happens. To get back to the day she was told her husband had been killed in a fiery explosion. On the other hand, it's frustrating because she wants that moment to be now. To be there, crystal in hand and mere moments away from being reunited with her one true love. This expedition just isn't moving fast enough! But that is with good reason. To race headlong into this without making sure they are not rushing right into danger is a good thing.

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

Unknown to Shey and Quinlin is that they are now being trailed. A lone man dressed as one of the construction workers has spotted them and is reporting everything he sees to his boss. None would be the wiser as he speaks into a hand-held com device. Construction crew foremans use these things all the time to communicate with their superiors on how the job is coming along. Just how they knew she was coming, why and what for, remains to be seen.

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

Sheyleigh takes Quinlin's hand and eases her skirt up a bit, entering his speeder. "Boy. You really are prepared for just about anything that comes up, aren't you Quinlin." This isn't a question per se, more of an openly shared observation. She smiles to him and sits down, getting herself situated comfortably.

"I do hope that they don't have the area blocked. I'm hoping that it's been long enough since its destruction that there hasn't been a need to rope the area off or anything. What if it is, Quinlin? Then what will we do?"

Just now, panick arises in her voice. The possibility that she may not be able to get her hands on this wonderous crystal just hit. What if she cannot go back and save her love?

No. Musn't think that way, Sheyleigh. Now is not the time for negativity. Be strong. Don't give up and soon you'll have your Stefan back. Things will be as they should be once again. Soon. Very soon.

Keeping positive thoughts flowing through her mind has helped her through plenty of down times and this time is no different. Maybe it is only in the sense that she has to keep herself calm, keep from becoming over-excited at the idea that she is this close to seeing her husband once again. This close to changing the past so that they will still have the future - their future. Together. Never to be parted again.

Her giddiness is similiar to that of a child's. Fidgety in the seat, primping in the mirror and a smile on her face that almost nothing could diminish.

"What are you waiting for? Come on, let's get this thing moving and get there before it's too dark to see."

[Quinlin Torr]

"Boy. You really are prepared for just about anything that comes up, aren't you Quinlin."

That brought a smile to his lips. It was coincidence that the ships of Khar Sian were supplied to accomidate travel, speedy travel that is. Especially when you dealt with a species such as himself. One needed to get back to the ship before sunlight broke over the horizon. And if a brood you hunted got too much, you needed to get out and away fast before they tore you up.

" Not prepared for anything Shey, just well thought out stocking provisions."

Helping her in and stepping around to his side. Quinlin hopped in and started to set the controls. The strange man keeping tabs on them also went unnoticed by the vampyre as he concentrated on the task of getting them to the ruins. Even if he did see the man, Quinlin wouldn't have been able to tell he was not a "friendly", as what he was doing was just about what any normal worker of that industry did. Her next question made him stop, he looked at her in silence for a few.

"I do hope that they don't have the area blocked. I'm hoping that it's been long enough since its destruction that there hasn't been a need to rope the area off or anything. What if it is, Quinlin? Then what will we do?"

His hazel eyes averted to he console, what indeed. He managed a smile and looked back at her. His answer thought true, would also give her the revelation of what he was.

"Then I do what I do best. I'll make a way for us."

He was the leader of the Bloodpack, the group of fighters sent out to erradicate the renegade vermin of turned vampyres. The ones who caused reckless destruction and fear which gave his more peacful race a bad name. Which was why the remaining families numbered only in the high twenties. His race was almost extinct. But that was for another time to tell, given the circumstances, should they live through this, maybe if time was alotted....he would tell her all about the Khar Sian people and thier fight for survival as a species among the rest.

"What are you waiting for? Come on, let's get this thing moving and get there before it's too dark to see."

That brought a chuckle from him, he nodded and started the speeder in the direction they needed to go. North.

"As you wish m'lady, But fear not the night Shey, if you remember my words to you at your home....Having someone like me on your side is a good thing."

The speeder and its occupants zoomed off in the distance. The soft whining of the engine droning as they headed for the ruins of Adony and their destiny with a Crystal.

[Cyrel Annat]

There was not much that could be done while traveling through lightspeed in a starfighter. Not like a freighter or larger vessel that you could stand up or walk around in. No, just a small cockpit and the same bright blue tunnel that the ship was speeding through. It left much time for thought, even for droids. Unfortunately, for droids.

Breaking the silence around the rogue Jedi was the bleeping inquiry from the droid settled just to the left and a bit behind him.

"I don't know who else might know that Sheyleigh is there, or if she's even going there of her own volition. We'll just have to find out once we arrive."

More bleeps in reply and another question.

"There will be time to repair things fully once we can settle. This ship is not in any dire need of repairs, A-4. You're just bored."

Another bleep left the rogue Jedi staring flatly out from the cockpit. "No, A-4, we did not leave the iron on."

[Sheyleigh Castille]

"As you wish m'lady, But fear not the night Shey, if you remember my words to you at your home....Having someone like me on your side is a good thing."

"Mhm, I remember. However, it's not the darkness I fear, Quinlin. It's the boogiemen who thrive in the darkness that I fear."

Perhaps it's a good thing that Sheyleigh is none the wiser as to exactly what Quinlin is thus far. If she fears those who lurk in the night, would she fear Quinlin?

He'll do what he does best, she thinks to herself while idly plucking at her lower lip while watching the non-descript scenery pass. He'll make a way for us. What's that suppose to mean?! A light shrug of her shoulder as she dismisses her own thoughts.

"You remind me of him in some ways, you know.", she states, her attentions never wavering from the ruined buildings and rubble strewn sidewalks.

"Quinlin, I don't think we ever did fully discuss the terms of payment for your assistance in this matter. Perhaps we should do that now .. unless you can find something else to talk about and keep my mind off of worrying about what to do if we don't find it here."

Shey sits forward, resting a hand against the front dash panel of the speeder, her jaw falling gently agape at what remains of the spaceport.

"Is that it? Is that where we're going, Quinlin?"

It was hard to recognize if the mess that lay ahead of them was truly once a spaceport or a dumping ground for trash. Most of the facility was gone, save for a few towering steel beams reaching skywards. A couple of these beams had been twisted and curled, bent out of shape and nearly bent completely in half. Whatever it was that caused its demise had to be rather powerful in order to create such a mess.

Huge chunks of permacrete lay scattered all around, along with what might have once been parts from ships, personal crafts, discarded cargo, etc.

"It looks as if a two-ton warhead used this area for target practice.", she murmurs.

"Quinlin ... by the looks of this place I think it's safe to say that it will be a miracle if we find even a shard of the crystal here." Dismay tinges her voice as her shoulders sink slightly.

"Please give us a miracle."

The prayer is whispered as Quinlin brings a stop to the speeder in what might have once been a hangar or hoverpad for incoming air traffic.

[Quinlin Torr]

A look of worry came over him, the words she just spoke was what he feared. Being a monster in her eyes. It quickly vanished as it came, but with the lycra mask...she couldn't see. But the silence gave it away. Rose colored lenses peered at her as he turned his head.

"What.....what if I am one of those boogiemen Shey. Not....not in the way you probably mean, as I have said I would not hurt you in any way shape or form."

His head turned back to the task of watching where he was piloting the speeder. "But, what if I am something you never dreamed I'd be?" Beneath the mask, he closed his eyes and silently cursed himself. He was letting this get to him again. He shouldn't, it didn't matter remember?? Remember??

It was her next words that brough him back, Remind her of him?? Of Stefan? He couldn't help but smile under that mask. "And you remind me of her too. In a way."
She did, Sabina was everything a woman should be, just like how Sheyleigh carried herself, so sure, so feminine yet strong at the same time.

"Quinlin, I don't think we ever did fully discuss the terms of payment for your assistance in this matter. Perhaps we should do that now .. unless you can find something else to talk about and keep my mind off of worrying about what to do if we don't find it here."

"We've never talked of payment, because...I never asked for any Shey. You never once asked me why I appeared on your doorstep, why I knew about the crystal. Shey, I too want the same thing you want out of this."

Quinlin began to tell her of the tale about Sabina. They had time for it, and the station was a little ways off.

"I too lost a love. Sabina was her name. A woman so beautiful, it seemed the sun rose for her. Dark hair, eyes that could claim a man's soul without ever trying. We fell in love, and were to be married. But her kind were never looked upon favorably by our elders. When ever one of us wanted to be wedded to one, they had to go through a test. If they passed the test, then a wedding would be held...if they failed...death would greet them on the spot. We agreed to the test as we all knew she would pass. But our elder Fulkrehm, lied...said she showed a danger to our people, and.....killed her regardless of her passing."

Quinlin shook his head slightly.

" I want the chance to save her Shey, she didn't deserve that death. She deserved a life with me. A life I wanted. A life I so desperately need." The rose lenses once again found her, as he seemed to plead. "That is all I ask of you, to send me back to that point in time....that is all I want from all of this."

The ruins seemed to loom out of the shadowed area. The sun light was dwindling and it made the scene all the more surreal. His eyes squinted as he brought the speeder round to the only area safe enough to land.

"Yes, that is Adony Station...or what's left of it anyway."

The speeder slowed to a hover and slowly descended. As he turned it off, he jumped out and surveyed the area quickly.

"Something of the crystal is here. I have a distinct feeling it is. But it won't be easy." Moving to the side of the speeder Shey sat in, Quinlin helped her out. And as they turned to the ruined building, or the pile of rubble that used to be a building, Quinlin pulled the sword from his sheath. The handle was of a gun, and the rest a sword. A strange weapon indeed but one that looked like it could do the trick. "Shall we?"

Quinlin asked as he begun to walk slowly to look for a way in.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

"What.....what if I am one of those boogiemen Shey. Not....not in the way you probably mean, as I have said I would not hurt you in any way shape or form."

His head turned back to the task of watching where he was piloting the speeder. "But, what if I am something you never dreamed I'd be?"

Sheyleigh's quiet for a bit, looking to Quinlin's profile, wondering what in the heck all of this is about? More silence, as Sheyleigh tries to think of a response to his question. She can't come up with anything because she's never been given a blatantly obvious reason to think that Quinlin is anything other than a man.

"Quinlin. Boogiemen hurt others. You have not hurt me. Boogiemen are ugly, ferocious beasts and wild tales are conjured up about them to instill fear into children. One, you are not ugly and two, you don't look like a ferocious beast. So what is all this talk about?"

Sheyleigh turns to face forward again, flipping her hair back over her shoulder.

"Besides, you already are something I never dreamed you'd be. You're not Stefan; though you are like him in many ways." These words are murmured, interrupted once by a sniffle or two.

"I hope the memories of her from which you are reminded of by me are good ones.", she states quietly, a faint smile edging her lips.

Sheyleigh listens at he tells her the tale of his love, her eyes widen at certain parts; her brows dip deeply at others. Sounds like something straight out of a horror movie, she thinks to herself.

"He killed her!? Quinlin! That is positively barbaric! Sheyleigh slumps back against the seat in the speeder with a huff, resting an elbow against the door while massaging a temple with her fingertips.


"I want the chance to save her Shey, she didn't deserve that death. She deserved a life with me. A life I wanted. A life I so desperately need." The rose lenses once again found her, as he seemed to plead. "That is all I ask of you, to send me back to that point in time....that is all I want from all of this."

The pleading in his voice and seen in his eyes breaks Shey's heart. She knows exactly how he feels, how much he needs this because she feels the same with Stefan. She desperately needs him in her life and take back what was once stolen from her - from them. Their life together. She nods to Quinlin, reaching over to give his arm a reassuring squeeze. "I will send you back, Quinlin. I kind of figured that might be the reason as to why your fee never came up in conversation. I had to hear it though. We'll get them back - both of them and we'll have the lives we once led again."

Once out of the speeder, Shey follows Quinlin, having a little diffculty in a couple of spots due to the size of the chunks of permacrete.

Trepedation seeps into her heart as she looks at the destruction strewn about. Ahead, flashing yellow circles indicate a caution area. The closer they get to those flashing yellow eyes, the more downtrodden Shey begins to feel. From what she can see thus far is that it appears to be a huge hole in the ground, as if a meteor the size of a small moon crashed and just went straight down into the planet's surface and someone came along and just popped it right back out.

"Think it's down there?", she asks, not daring to get too close to the barricades but close enough to see.

******

Still keeping themselves hidden, a few men continue to follow and keep tabs on the two lurking about near the old Adony Station.

[Cyrel Annat]

With all the free time, seemingly in the world, Cyrel used it as best he could, searching through computer records for the Brighter Tomorrow. Of course, with the name being faked, there was no record. Just another fact that caused Cyrel to worry just a tad more. He was too far away at this point to beat them to the station, and depending on where they landed, too far away to get there before anything they found would be found.

In all, he had a very bad feeling about the entire situation. "A-4, see if you can boost the power just a bit. I don't imagine that it's possible at this point, but see what you can do." We must get there faster.

[Quinlin Torr]

Quinlin nodded as he kept the rose tinted lenses facing downwards. He had walked passed the barricades and was looking down into void before him. Quinlin could see well into the black below as his kind had a sense of night sight. It was then he felt them, lurking about. His head came up quick and turned left.....then right.
Now the need to find the crystal was more desperate. The Vampyre didn't know who they were, why they were there...but they held a pose of threat to he and Shey gaining the crystal.

And that he wouldn't allow. They came so far and was not about to turn back. Seeing that nothing was posing a danger below, He gaged the drop and walked back over and picked her up in his arms. "I'll explain as soon as we get down there..." Walking back to the edge of the devastated area that was a crater within the ruins. "...hold on." Quinlin stepped off and they dropped to the ground below. Landing effortlessly, still cradling her, Quinlin set her down and took his mask off. Pulling out a slim rod, he bent it and set the stick aglow with an yellow illuminating light.

"This way.... Back up there, I felt eyes upon us. We weren't alone. I just gave us a head start with that drop. If someone wants us not to find the crystal, they'll have to work at stopping us."

His head turned and a smile showed. Tucking the mask into his belt, Quinlin ran a hand through his matted hair started to slowly walk as he reached in his coat and pulled another stick to get that glowing and held it to Sheyleigh. It was an old coridoor they passed through. Walls caved in on some areas, and others the walls still stood.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

After seeing Quinlin cross the barricades, Shey decides to follow suit. But, she doesn't get as close to the edge as he does. There's something about dark, deep pits that make her nervous.

"I can't see a thing down there. Are you sure this is the right spot?", she begins to question. Movement is noted in the corner of her eye and just as Quinlin's attention snaps to scoping the area around them, Shey looks around too. "What is it?" Shey looks to him, furrowing her brows and fingering a hair from her cheek. "Quinlin, what is it?"

"I'll explain as soon as we get down there..." Walking back to the edge of the devastated area that was a crater within the ruins. "...hold on."

Scooped up into his arms, Shey looks at him as if he has just gone off the deep end! Unfortunately, she doesn't yet realize that's about to be the case.

"Quinlin! What in the hell are you doing!?" Panick begins to set in, sending her heart racing. There is no need to tell her to hang on, the grip she has around his neck is enough to strangle the man. Then he steps off, plummeting the two into the dark void.

The scream that emits from Sheyleigh is enough to shatter an eardrum or break a crystal glass easily. When they reach the bottom and he tries to set her down, her arms remain firmly locked around his neck. Quinlin eases her grip from his body and sets his hands against her hips, making sure that she isn't going to fall over from shakey legs.

Sheyleigh scowls up to him and slaps his chest - hard. "You scared the crap out of me! What in the hell did you go and do that for?"

Chasing away the severe shakes from fear, she paces in a small circle with her palm pressed against her forehead, trying to slow her rapid breathing down and calm her racing heart.

"This way.... Back up there, I felt eyes upon us. We weren't alone. I just gave us a head start with that drop. If someone wants us not to find the crystal, they'll have to work at stopping us."

The glow from the lightstick makes Shey cringe briefly, shielding her eyes from the bright illuminescent light. She takes the second lightstick and holds it up, slightly higher than her head. Turning, she looks at the semi-ruined corridor, nodding slowly.

"I wonder if this is what once might have been the service tunnels for Adony."

A look to Quinlin, then they set off, following the one tunnel that looks to be the least dangerous to venture down.

Those eyes Quinlin felt when they were topside peer down into the void. Hurried conversation takes place and then they scatter. Unheard by Sheyleigh, though Quinlin might hear it. Plumes of black smoke rise into the air as the engines of a bulldozer erupt with life.

[Quinlin Torr]

Looking back at Shey, Quinlin had this smile. Again she looked like Sabina. The little outburst of surprised anger. Not anger perse, but due the situation was more flustered by his action. Turning back to the path before them, he looked around the tunnel they were in. There had to be some way to go further down. Maybe a shaft with a turblift he could leap with her in his arms again. That thought brought another smile to his lips. No, better not so soon...she'd likely punch him in the jaw. That thought brought out a chuckle. Where to look....where to look Oh there had to be a point to start. "Where would they keep you? Where would they keep you?"
He spoke softly and enough fo rher to hear him. He was thinking out loud.

More ruined walls...a few doors...Then he looked back at the way they dropped. A distant rumble was heard..Machinery..What in the frell was going on up there? Looking how far they walked, and how far they needed to go. Judging from the distance they had moved, if they were going to do something from up there, he and Shey were still within harms way. Looking at her he wanted to pick her up and run, but she was a big girl, she could handle herself at times...and this he knew.

"We need to get to the end of the tunnel and fast. Can you run? Or do I pick you up again?" A smile creased the corners of his eyes.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

"We need to get to the end of the tunnel and fast. Can you run? Or do I pick you up again?"

Shey snaps Quinlin a look that just dares him to try a stunt like that again. This most likely only makes his smile spread as he laughs outloud.

"If Stefan could have seen that ...." She looks away from Quinlin for a second, trying hard not to smile herself. The image of what Stefan's reaction would have been amuses her, bringing a bittersweet smile to her face.

"Uh oh. I think we'd better get moving." Her thoughts are spoken not a moment too soon as the sound of the machinery is closer. Plumes of dust rise into the air from the ground near where they landed not long ago as the dozer above begins to refill the cratered hole with dirt and rubble.

Sheyleigh glances to Quinlin. She hikes the hem of her skirt up to the middle of her shins, then darts off down the tunnel right on his heels.

[Syren Wyssholt]

Years ago, Syren decided to leave much behind, including practicing the dark arts. To this day, she doesn't know why she did, just that it seemed to be the right time in her life to try her hand at other things; like a peaceful, uneventful life.

The select few who know Syren, whom know more than just her name and reputation, actually placed bets on just how long this new life would last. She surprised most in the fact that it lasted three and a half years. It wasn't easy, but she did it. Though, she cannot take all the credit. Her annoying personal droid, Six, kept playing the role of Syren's conscious. Finally tired of being a goody-goody, Syren had the ethics circuit removed from Six's motherboard and cashed her in for scrap.

During those three years, though, she decided to keep herself busy by having a few modifications added to her personal craft: a miniature cloaking device and bio-engineered spores; whose usefulness will be revealed later.

To her knowledge, only one other such ship like hers has ever existed in the universe and the owner of that ship has long since passed on. How she came across the plans for this one of a kind craft is another tale for another day.

The Nyte Masque is a custom-built Big Wing. Sporting a total of six laser cannons, three concealed in each wing; a short-range ion cannon hidden in the ships belly; a deflector shield, hyperdrive generator and sensor jammers. The ship itself resembles a large gackle bat. Instead of having the paint as rust-colors, she has had the ship painted black, with gold wing-tips. With a narrow cockpit positioned high and toward the rear of the craft, when the Nyte Masque takes flight, she casts a long shadow; however, the narrow frame makes it very difficult for one to target from the front or the rear.

A few more standard features of her ship include a full-clor holoprojector, making it possible to receive messages from across the galaxy. A precise tractor beam which allows her to capture small cargo modules, starship components, and other stellar debris. A few other emergency devices as well as an escape pod - just in case. Originally, she thought she might try her hand at smuggling in order to help ease some of the restlessness. She never did do much with that, but she did decide to keep the ship anyways.

She measures twenty-seven meters in width, (the ship, not Syren) from wingtip to wingtip and reaches a maximum speed of 3.370 G's. The hyperdrive attains 1,200 kph, making her ship fast and easily maneuverable. She loves her ship. Though, she does grow rather annoyed with the ships built in astronavigational droid. The droid is directly hardwired into the Nyte Masque's systems to provide constant assistance and serve as a copilot if the need ever arises.

This droid also controls a small probe droid, which scurries through the ship, inspecting it, any passengers or cargo she may be carrying. This probe droid also has the capability of leaving the craft, though Syren's not tested that just yet.

She's been following the news reports which have aired off and on for the past year to year and a half. The reports pertaining specifically to the Eternity Crystal. She's been following the progress of the expedition team which claimed to have discovered the exact location of the crystal.

A conversation that took place long ago had crept back into her mind since the first story about the crystal spread like wildfire across the holonet. In fact, its in that very conversation the reason for her taking the walk down the dark path of power.

'I long for the day I get to repay him ...'

"With that crystal, I could finally repay that sithspawn for what he's done."

Syren arranged for the disappearance of the expedition team. In fact, its her hired henchmen on Jerne now, whom are keeping tabs on little miss goody-two-shoes and the freak accompanying her. Its her hired henchmen whom are about to make life far more difficult for the two bumble-brain artifact hunters.

As soon as her henchmen reported that they found the location of the crystal, Syren set off from Coruscant to Jerne. Little did she know at the time of her departure, another was leaving at the same time. If she had known at the time that Cyrel was heading in the same direction, she would have taken care of him long before he could ever get his ship out of the atmosphere.

A series of blips and beeps sounds over the ships internal communication speakers. "Release the spores. We'll be able to follow the tachyon particle trail released by the ship. Once I know where its heading, I'll decide what to do then."

The astronavigational droid releases the bio-engineered spores and begins tracking the other ship traveling through hyperspace.

[Cyrel Annat]

"For the eighth time, we did not leave the iron on," the rogue states with just a hint of irritation in his voice. After all, when traveling through hyperspace, there was little that one really could do, especially alone. In this case, alone with a droid going through a circuit breakdown. A simple bleep is heard through the speakers, perhaps a bit of a rebuke to the Jedi for his curt tone.

In the meantime, Cyrel had spent the time going over the details of the planet in question, Jerne. Not much that he could really dig up that he hadn't heard of already. He knew where the crystal supposedly was, and how best to get there. Now, it was just a matter of time as the galaxy sped on past. Another series of bleeps interrupts his thoughts again.

"What is it now?"

Another string of bleeps follows, causing Cyrel's eyebrows to furrow a bit. A moment later, the faintest tilting of his head.

"Another ship gaining on us? No, I do not think that this one is friendly, A-4. See what you can do about boosting that power. If they're gaining that fast, we'll never outrun it."

A few more blips and bleeps in both response and question of Cyrel's last words.

"Just trust me on this one. Whoever is following us is not here to aid us."

[Quinlin Torr]

Boots pounded the turf of rubble and dust kicked up as the two ran for the end of the corridor. His black leather trench billowed behind him as the end came nearer. An elevator shaft! But the door hung on one track. He needed to make that exit for them and he didnt have time to explain. His hazel eyes turned to thier ice blue and as slid to a halt next to the broken lift, Quinlin gripped both sides of the hanging door and a low growl escaped him as he wrenched it free of the opening and effortlessly tossed it to the side. As he turned to face her, his eyes changed back and his hand went out to her. " Trust me...."

Was all he said as the vampyre took her hand and lifted her into his arms to cradle her once more. Looking down the dark shaft, and seeing that the car itself was a ways down...a little further than the last drop they did. He was going to see if there was another way, when rumbling and a crashing was heard back from where they were. A dark cloud of rolling dust came at them as debris and concrete tumbled down.

Looking at her, he gave a wink and stepped off. Again the weightlessness took over for a few seconds. Then as above, Quinlin landed easily on top of the stuck lift car. Gently placing Shey down, Quinlin moved to another set of doors. Squeezing his fingers between them, he slowly but surely forced them open. A dark corridor was ahead. His night vision allowed him to freely move. He was glad that Shey held onto her glow stick, she would need that.

" Let's look around here. If we find nothing, then we go lower through that lift's car. There has to be something around here."

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Sheyleigh, trailing Quinlin by a good few steps at the very least, skids to a halt just as he rips the door free of the lift. Panting, she releases her skirt and presses a palm against the center of her chest, trying to get some sort of rhythm back into her breathing.

"Trust me.", she says to her, extending his hand. She looks to him, narrowing her eyes gently, then she looks to his hand. The minute she gives him her hand, she finds herself scooped up into his arms - again. The threat looming from above, the dust and debris falling to block their only known exit, scares the pants off of Shey. She has no time to react to that before exclaiming; "Oh no! Not again!" Yes, she begins to squirm, wanting to get down to find an alternative route to take, but Quinlin winks at her and steps off the ledge, plummeting them down into the darkness.

Yes. She screams. Again. The grip tightens around the glow stick held in her hand; tight to the point which her knuckles become white as ghosts. Again, she squeezes around Quinlin's neck and buries her face against his shoulder, her scream perhaps muffled a bit by that.

Once her feet were flat on the top of the lift car, she cautiously peeks out from having her face buried against his shoulder. Scowling up to him again, she goes to slap his chest, but stops. Her expression turns from a scowl to suspicious curiousity.

"How come there isn't a loud thunk when you land? And how come you have no need to significantly crouch or your feet don't hurt after jumping down into dark holes?" Her questions begin as Quinlin pries the doors open and helps her into the dark corridor.

Reaching out ahead of her, she grabs a hold of the back of Quinlin's trenchcoat, holding the glow stick high above her head. "I feel like a kid again. Dared to go to the cemetary at midnight on the night of the witch.", she whispers to Quinlin while keeping real close.

[Syren Wyssholt]

The spores cause the tachyon trail exumed from Cyrel's ship to glow an eerie yellow, though one would be hard-pressed to consider this glow anything other than normal gaseous clouds floating through space. Syren will have to make sure to have more spores re-loaded into her ship, as the capabilities of having such a thing are only suitable for a one-time use. Unfortunately, she won't be able to get more until she gets back to the Core Worlds.

Running a few scenarios through her head as she watches the direction of the tachyon trail, the corner of her mouth begins to twitch. 'It appears as if whomever is ahead of us, is heading straight towards Jerne'., she thinks. Of course, her thoughts are on the crystal and the crystal alone; of the wonderous things she can accomplish by getting her hands on it. The revenge which has eluded her all of these years is so close.

An idea comes to mind. Something she has heard about only a handful of times from the bars, spaceports and smuggling stations she's made a random appearance at. Only a few have successfully pulled off the maneuver she's about to attempt. Of those few, even less did it without causing damage to their ship or to their quaries ship.

First, she activates the sensor-jammers housed within the Nyte Masque. Hopefully, she's not out of range and it will screw up the sensors on Cyrel's craft. Giving a few minutes to pass, she then activates the tractor beam - only she reverses it; hoping to knock Cyrel's ship out of hyperspace - at least long enough to be able to come up within range behind him to have her droid run a scan of his ship.

"Let's see if this works or if it was just all talk coming from a bunch of blowhards."

She sits back and waits, reading the spore data traveling over the screen.

[Cyrel Annat]

For the briefest of moments, all the instruments on the control panel of the ship blinked out, coming back just as quick, but it was enough to alert the pilot that something wasn't right. "A-4, can you get a make of the ship that it following us? I really do not think that they plan on being friendly towards us." And I have a feeling it has something to do with the crystal.

After all, who knew how many people had gone to try and find the crystal for themselves, or for someone else. Sheyleigh was going there for such a purpose, and he was following because she was there. It seemed perfectly logical that whoever was trailing them now, was also headed there.

A not so subtle bump brings his thoughts immediately back to the now, causing him to glance around outside the cockpit. "Now, that definitely was not nice."

He wasn't entirely certain what happened when one was bumped out of hyperspace unexpectedly, but he didn't think that it was worth the risk of trying. They hadn't hit anything, and no asteroid could come up from behind to give them the bump. Had the sensors not just blinked, he wouldn't have thought much of it, but two odd occurences in rather rapid succession just left a bad taste in his mouth. "Hang on while I take us out of hyperspace. I'd rather not risk losing a wing if I can help it."

A few moments later, the ship dropped from hyperspace and the stars looked as they should. It wouldn't take long to make the jump again once he was able, but for now, he wanted to see what was going on with whoever was behind them. He directs the ship to drop a bit, lowering below the line that they had been following. Time to see if whoever was following would continue or just go past.

[Syren Wyssholt]

As Syren had instructed the ships astronavigational computer to do, the Nyte Masque reverts back into real space, immediately cloaking itself. The space around her ship shimmers briefly as the ship winks out of view. Granted, there isn't much she can do to Cyrel's craft while she herself happens to be under the auspices of invisibility, but she can still get some information.

Like a huge gackel bat, the Nyte Masque passes mere meters above Cyrel's canopy. If he notices anything at all, its just a subtle shimmer of the light given off by the surrounding stars. Syren gets ahead of Cyrel, just enough distance for her to spin her own ship around, now head to head with his craft.

Syren eases the ship upwards some and instructs her droid to retrieve Cyrel's ship information. It takes a few minutes, but eventually a partial record begins to appear on the navscreen.

"I swear I hate that man...", she groans under her breath. Her index finger is poised against the trigger to fire one of six laser cannons right into the cockpit of his ship.

But, for whatever reason, she doesn't do it. Instead, she veers off a few degrees and brings her craft back around. Positive that she can outrun Cyrel in the Nyte Masque, she drops the cloaking and allows him to get a good look at her.

Syren tunes to an open frequency for the com and sends a hail to Cyrel.

"So we meet again.", she coos. "Tell me Cyrel, what brings you so far from home?"

[Quinlin Torr]

Quinlin looks back at Shey with a coy smile. If the actions didn't speak for themselves. He wasn't human, although he looked every bit of it. Until he changed into his true form, but still even in his Vampyric state, the purebloods still kept ninety-eight percent of human appearances.

"Shey, not all alien species look as such. I am not your typical human, although I am humanoid. Just....subtle differences."

Yes, fangs...eyes the color of ice, and strength beyond normal means, the need to feed on blood....real subtle. He walked slowly, checking things out. Still talking to her.

"That's why I seem to have extraordinary abilities. Dont get me wrong, if the drops were longer than they were, it wouldv'e hurt. But thats whats good about us Khar Sians...we heal quickly."

More insight to him. But how much to dislose? Everything? no....not yet. Just enough to satisfy her curiosity. He felt that she'd get to see his true self sooner or later. Maybe he'd be able to tell her all before then, so she wouldnt be frightened when he did change. Then again, maybe not.

" Now, where would the generator be?"

Quinlin took out the small datapad he kept, and punched a few buttons. A littl emap came up and he stood there looking at it. Trying to find where the room the emergency generators were kept. If they could get there, he could possibly start one up. Then they'd have light.

[Cyrel Annat]

"What do you mean that the ship is no longer on the scanners? Even if it continued into hyperspace, it couldn't have outrun us already, and it most certainly would not turn around and leave after the little thump we just took. Keep checking the sensors, A-4, that ship has got to be out there somewhere."

Too busy checking his own scanners and sensors in the cockpit, Cyrel didn't notice the displacement in the stars just above his ship. If he had, he likely would have been able to guess at what that discrepancy was.

Who are you and what do you want? he thinks to himself, dark eyes still searching both instruments and around the ship itself. After a couple of moments, he closes his eyes and reaches out with the force, searching for any disturbances. The left corner of his mouth curves upwards just slightly as he does sense one in particular, and by the time he is better able to pinpoint the location of that source, the Nyte Masque materializes beside his own ship.

"I could ask you that same thing, Syren. As well as your intentions now that you've managed to get me out of hyperspace. There are easier ways of contacting me than this, you know."

[Syren Wyssholt]

"Of course there are easier ways to contact you, but those are so ... boring. Besides, you know me Cyrel, I like being the center of attention."

If he could see the expression on her face as the last of her words are spoken, he'd most likely smirk in return. Then again, as stated, Cyrel does know her pretty well so he may just be able to invision her facial expression to a near perfect T.

"My intentions of knocking you out of hyperspace depend on you - old friend. Consider that bump back into real space a warning. Turn back from Jerne, Cyrel. You're going to get in way over your head if you continue."

As she speaks, she runs her fingers over a few of the instruments along the control panel. In short, she's activated the ion cannon hidden in the ship's belly, powering it up in the event that Cyrel decides to go ahead towards Jerne - or try to stop her. It takes a good few minutes for the weapon to come to full power, plus she still has to open the belly of the ship in order to fire the weapon - if she has to.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Sheyleigh's brows knit gently as Quinlin begins to explain, albeit vaguely, as to how he can drop off a ledge and fall as they had just done twice without getting hurt.

"Khar Sians? I've never heard of them. What are they?", she inquires as she walks closer to help figure out where they are according to his map and where they have to go in order to reach the generator.

"Quinlin?", she whispers. "Who do you think it was that just buried us down here?"

The tip of her finger traces a few passageways along the map, her head cocked to the side sharply.

"If I'm reading this right, we are here. It looks like we need to get ...." She traces a route with her fingertip that will wind them through a total of four narrow tunnels, then a sharp right should take them to the power room. "... here. Does that look right to you?"

[Cyrel Annat]

"I cannot do that, Syren. I have a friend there that I feel is in grave danger at the moment."

Initially, he did smirk, but only for that first moment. There was something in her voice after that, the underlying threat within her words and tone. A threat that he did not particularly care for, but he was not in much of a position to argue.

"And how do you know that I'll be in over my head there? What hand are you playing?"

[Syren Wyssholt]

"By now your friend is dead. You've been warned, Cyrel." Hellbent on getting her hands on the crystal, the coldness harbored in her voice speaks the words she had not. Nothing will be allowed to get in her way.

"Don't you worry that handsome little head of yours about what my hands are into. Turn around, Cyrel. Go home. This the last time I say it."

A glance to the indicators on the console and she sees the the ion cannon is ready to be fired. Her finger hovers over the button to open the underbelly of her ship, ready to blow Cyrel to smithereens if she has to.

[Cyrel Annat]

"I do not seek the crystal, Syren, and I am on my way to stop my friend from trying to find it. If you want it so bad, go ahead and take it. I will not try to stop you. I would, however, appreciate that you allow me to continue with my mission. You know me, Syren, I am not lying to you."

And the truth of it was, he wasn't lying to her and she would be able to tell if she tried. Of course, he didn't exactly volunteer that he knew something about the crystal, and he wasn't about to. And while their little exchange was going on, he kept his eyes to his own console.

"You do not want to do this, Syren. This is not who you are. Why don't we both head there? You can go after the crystal and I can find my friend. I will not stop you, and we can part our separate ways once we're finished."

[Syren Wyssholt]

The tip of her finger taps lightly over the activation button. With a little more force, the underbelly will open up and the ion cannon will expose itself. Less than a minute later, she can blast him to nothing more than space junk.

Syren chews against the inside of her cheek, pondering his words. Granted, Cyrel probably couldn't lie to save his own life but he does make one very good point. She does know him. The time passes slowly, silence reigns.

"The crystal is mine, Cyrel. Once we land, you have less than one hour to get your friend out. However, let me inform you now of this: If your friend has that crystal, I will kill anyone who stands in my way of getting it. Including you."

With that, Syren ends the open channel and shuts down her ion cannon.

"Cloak the ship again." The astronavigational droid does as instructed and the Nyte Masque blinks out of sight.

"I really do hate that man.", she murmurs as she maneauvers her craft around and makes a speedy beeline towards Jerne.

[Cyrel Annat]

"Agreed, and Syren, be careful."

As the Nyte Masque disappeared from his view, the rogue Jedi stared blankly at the area of space that it previously occupied. This was certainly a far cry from their previous conversation some months ago on Corellia, but that was to be expected. He knew well of the crystal's power, and knew with a fair amount of certainty why Syren wanted it for herself. Of course, he also knew that her aims at this point in time were impossible. But telling her that now would not be a good idea.

He remains lost in thought for a few more moments until a series of bleeps from the droid snap him back to the present. A couple of blinks before Cyrel begins again plotting the course to Jerne. She had a short head-start on him now, though he would be able to keep up with her ship, provided that he pushed his own to its limits. Again.

"No, A-4, she does not know what she's getting herself into. No more than I do. I've locked in the coordinates and calculations. Prepare to make the jump."

A few moments later, the area of space that previously had been occupied by a pair of ships was empty.

[Quinlin Torr]

" That is our species, Only it isnt our origin...Our race was split by an ancient war. Our half migrated to Khar Sian. There are only nine families left of thousands. Sadly, my race is on the verge of extinction."

A distant look came over him. As he thought about what he just said. It always hit home, and hit hard. Eyebrows furrowed in thought. Then he looked at Shey.

"Can you imagine that? A race as old as mine, dwindled over time to just over thirty people......"

Quinlin shook his head sadly, then looked back at the datapad. Nodding in agreement, a small smile showed.

"Yes, I think that could be it. Shall we?"

As they started off, Quinlin looked up at the ceiling. As if trying to see who it was on the surface through the rubble and roof.

"Whoever it was, they don't want us to find the Crystal...but they don't have a choice do they?"

Quinlin shot her a promising smile now.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Sheyleigh's own expression turns somber. She shakes her head subtlely, murmuring that she could never imagine an entire race that once consisted of thousands - or millions - becoming extinct. Of course, she is human, so she most likely cannot even conceive of such a thing ever happening to her race. Not knowing what more to say, Shey lowers her eyes to the datapad, pretending to be examining their intended route once again.

"No, they do not.", Sheyleigh smiles back to Quinlin, still oblivious to what he truly is. Then again, since she's never heard of Khar Sian, it's understandable that she still has no clue.

As the rumblings of the machinery up on the surface continues, Shey glances up to the ceiling as well. A bout of fear rises in her heart, wondering how anyone would know they are down here should they fail at discovering another way out? What if she's buried down here, doomed to starve to death or die from hyperthermia? Dehydration?

Her glowstick begins to dim. She looks at the second and sees that its going to quit as well.

"Uh. Quinlin? I hope you can see in the darkest of dark because I can't and these lightsticks are about to give out."

[Quinlin Torr]

Quinlin looked back at her once more, nodding his confirmation. They had excellent night sight.

"Yes, I can. It was how I judged the first drop."

The first turn it took some time, they had to climb over a rubble deposit to get to the other side of the corridor. Quinlin went first to make sure it was safe on the opposite side then called her through. Helping her down, they continued on to the second turn. At the nearing of the third, her glowstick dimmed even more.

Turning to Shey, his eyes were now a brilliant ice blue color. Changed from his hazel color she was used to seeing so far. Holding a hand out to her, Quinlin waited for her to take it.

"Hold my hand, I'll guide us the rest of the way."

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Sheyleigh's brows loft steeply as Quinlin explains how he judged the first drop. Ok. It's believable. I suppose.', she thinks to herself as she follows in his wake vigorously shaking the lightsticks in an attempt to get them to continue to glow for a bit more.

As he helps her over the rubble, Shey tears her skirt. Had she known that they'd be climbing around underground, she would have dressed more appropriately. The sound of the fabric tearing echoes in the tunnel, sounding eerie, like the way long sharp claws would sound if dragged against concrete. It sends a shiver up her spine.

"After all of this, the crystal had better be down here. ", she murmurs as she grunts quietly when Quinlin helps her down.

Shey shakes the lightsticks again, the cylinders sounding like baby rattles. The crystals inside flicker and fade more. "Nooo! Stupid pieces of bantha poo-doo." The last of the light diminishes and Shey drops them to the ground.

She sighs heavily and looks to Quinlin. Her eyes widen and her brows lift deeply once again. "Quinlin! Your eyes! They're glowing .... and they're a different color!" She sounds awed, amazed and a wee bit unsure. But still! The color of his eyes is intriguing and she leans in until her nose almost touches his, looking deeply into them.

"Wow.", she whispers. Her brows knit and she backs away quickly, clearing her throat. "Forgive me. The color is .. the most beautiful shade of blue I've ever seen. Almost hypnotic."

Her lips quirk as she realizes that she just sounded as if she were using a cheap pick up line. Unable to do anything about it now, she sighs heavily and cautiously takes Quinlin's hand.

"Why did your eyes change color? Mine don't do that in the dark, though it'd be kind of cool if they did." She smiles, thinking about that. She even chuckles, thinking of all the ways she could have freaked Stefan out if her eyes could change colors and glow like that.

[Quinlin Torr]

The vampyre had to grin. She actually took this pretty well. Most would have choked off a scream and back peddled on that eye change alone. When she got very close...a little too close...Quinlin's eyes seemed to soften a bit. His lips parted almost revealing his fangs. He didn't see Shey before him, it was Sabina. Fighting the urge to press his lips to her's, Quinlin bit his bottom lip and kept telling himself..It's not Sabina.....It's not Sabina.

Quinlin let her look till she took her steps back. "Wow....Forgive me. The color is .. the most beautiful shade of blue I've ever seen. Almost hypnotic." That alone made Quinlin chuckle.

"Trust me, that can be very hypnotic."

Quinlin explained, and it was true. Vampyres could render a prey incompacitaded with thier eyes alone. But that was if they wanted too. Quinlin never used it for that purpose.

"Why did your eyes change color? Mine don't do that in the dark, though it'd be kind of cool if they did."

Again the vampyre grinned. Once more, almost revealing his fangs. "Shey, this is my true eye color. The Hazel tone you see is basically a ruse. A form of security that no one knows what I am. You could say it's a permanent disquise." Taking her hand gently, he leads them down the darkened corridor. Talking to keep her focused and let her know things are fine.

"We should be almost there. According to the map, it's right around this corner."

[Syren Wyssholt]

The rest of Syren's flight down to Jerne was uneventful. The astronavigational droid was able to retrieve the information on Cyrel's ship that she wanted. She glanced that over during the flight and then saved the information to the Nyte Masque's computer database. Her thoughts turned back to the conversation that she and Cyrel had when they ran into each other on Corellia a couple of months ago. She had asked him for help. Help in leaving the dark path forever. 'Did I mean it then? Did I truly want his help?', she questions her intentions. Yes, she did. Had it not been for all the hoopla on the news about this crystal and what it's suppose to be able to do ... she would have continued on the path which Cyrel was leading her down.

The Nyte Masque is eased into a private hangar at the spaceport and the credits to pay for such accomodations are transfered from her personal account. She disembarks once the security systems are activated. It seems as if there is a major storm brewing towards the west as the winds have kicked up to swift gusts, spiraling tornadoes of dust and dirt. Syren flips the deeply cowled hood of her cloak over her head and snaps one side of it sharply over her left shoulder, draping the long panel of velvet material in a criss-cross against her body. The gusty winds whip the hem violently around her ankles. A few of the sharp winds force her to draw a handful of her cloak up to cover her nose and mouth, leaving just her dark, mysterious eyes exposed in a squint.

No need for a speeder. It's not too far to the site and the winds are gusting too much for a speeder to be of any use. Her steps are quick yet careful to avoid twisting an ankle as she steps over and around the rubble strewn about. 'This is not who you are.', he had said to her. 'How would he know who I am now anyways? He left way back when; remember?' 'This is not who you are.' Cyrel's voice, irritating as it is, continues to speak in her mind. "Oh shut up." she says outloud, hoping that the sound of her own voice will chase his away.

As Syren nears the now filled in hole that was once a spacestation, she stops dead in her tracks. 'Something's wrong.', she thinks, almost instinctively. Slowly, she looks around the area. The machinery used to shove the dirt and rock back into the hole it was blown from sits almost perfectly centered atop of the settling mound. Sitting there, like silent sentry's on the guard. 'What is it?', she wonders, her dark eyes taking in every detail, slower now. With caution, she moves forwards, careful to make as little noise as possible. At the edge of the area, she squats down, skimming the surface with a sharp look. 'No tracks. No footprints. Nothing. How can that be?'

She looks to her right, rising slowly. Nothing unusual in that direction. A look to her left reveals the same. 'Someone has covered their tracks and they've done an excellent job of doing it.' Using the force, she feels out, slowly stretching further and further. 'Where are my men?' She doesn't feel their presence.

She begins walking the perimeter of the area, examining closely the things that seem to stand out the most in her mind. The fact that there are no footprints, no tracks or marks left by the machinery, and the fact that ....

"No.", she whispers with utter disbelief. Quickly, she whirls around on her heels and spots a pile of thick permacrete blocks. Rushing over, she ascends them quickly, standing at the top and peering down at the immediate area. If one knew what to look for, they'd see it. And she does, once she manages to see past the thick, roiling mist ebbing its way over the land.

For the first time in many, many years - Syren's knees go weak and almost give out. Awkwardly, she seats herself and stares at the symbol left in the dirt that can only be seen if one is looking down upon the area.

"This can't be. They've been gone for ages.", she mutters, shaking her head lightly.

From her vantage point, the view reveals a symbol. A symbol that once belonged to the Mecrosa Order. This society of assassins and expert poisoners was rumored to be led by Sith disciples, although that was never proven. The Mecrosa Order was sponsored by House Mecetti of Tapani Sector millennia before the Battle of Yavin, providing the Order with a base of operations on the planet Nyssa. The Mecrosa Order was eventually destroyed by the combined forces of the Jedi Knights and House Pelagia, but the legacy of the Order survived through the millennia. At the height of the Galactic Civil War, the Order was re-established by several young House Mecetti nobles who had been groomed from their youths to be assassins and poisoners. None of the leaders of House Mecetti were aware that the Mecrosa Order had been reborn, and its members worked to ensure their secret. Many historians and certain holovid producers insinuated that the Mecrosa Order maintained a cadre of Sith magicians at its core, but this has never been proven.

'Very few would know what the symbol is. This can't be an elaborate hoax.', she argues mentally. She knows because she's had a run in with them once before. However, she didn't believe them last time when they told her that they have resurfaced and grown in power.

The sound of a saber engaged comes from behind her. Syren stands and whirls around quickly, unclipping one of her two sabers from her hip, engaging it immediately. She brings it up in time to block an incoming strike, knocking her off balance and thus sending her tumbling backwards off the rubble pile.

She lands with a thud on her back, getting her saber up and vertical just in time to block another incoming blow. With her foot, she kicks up into the groin of her attacker, sending him reeling backwards. This affords her enough time to get to her feet.

The unknown attacker advances. The sound of sabers humming violently as the attack/defense grows in intensity fills her ears as their duel continues, the light emitted by their weapons cuts through the darkness like an intense, erotic dance.

Just as quickly as it started, it ends. The unknown attacker vanishes as mysteriously as he appeared. Syren stands there, gripping her engaged saber in one gloved hand, scanning the area; panting heavily from the physical excertion.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

"Shey, this is my true eye color. The Hazel tone you see is basically a ruse. A form of security that no one knows what I am. You could say it's a permanent disguise."

Shey lingers a few steps behind, furrowing her brows deeply, eyeing the back of Quinlin's head; growing leery. Her mouth quirks as he continues talking.

"Quinlin ... what exactly are you?", she asks as they come up to the final turn, their destination just around the corner.

Above, the sound of the machinery has ceased, leaving their entry sealed. Unaware of the other dangers lurking on the surface. Shey suddenly feels cold, chilled to the bone as she walks around Quinlin, affixing her dark eyes to his of icey blue, awaiting his answer.

[Quinlin Torr]

Finding the small access panel on the wall, Quinlin lead Shey there. Releasing her hand, He began to work on the wiring. Looking at her, his eyes slightly illuminated, he took his time answering her. She would have to know sooner or later, he just didn't like it being sooner.

"Here, hold this." He said as he handed her the datapad and turned it to face him. The small screen lit the small area he worked on as well as his face.

"You know the scary stories you've heard when you were little? Of the evil creatures that lurked in the dark....that would take your willpower with but a glance and feed on your blood?" Quinlin began to explain as he worked to get some kind of power. A few wires were touched and so far no sparks.

"Do you know what I speak of Shey?" A few more different combination of wiring touched, and still nothing. Taking a the remaining wires, he stripped each end with his nails and began to touch them. "Well, if you really think about it....I've worn my special suit during the day to keep the sun from my skin....I only show myself in the night. My skin is pale, and I can practically do impossible things with no consequences of being hurt.... You do the math Shey, what do I sound like to you?"

He touched the last wire to the red and a small humm was heard. The lights flickered for a brief second. "Found it....see these old military facilities always have a power source that lasts near a lifetime....." He wound the two ends together and the lights came on but not as bright as they should be. "....And then there was light." He stood up and looked around, then back at her. Still on the subject of him for the moment. Quinlin could see her calculating the facts and evidences.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Sheyleigh took the datapad and held it so that Quinlin could use the light from it as he worked on rigging some temporary lighting. She tries not to stare at him, his profile specifically, but it's hard not to do since a nagging feeling has been tugging at the back of her mind.

She nods; knowing well the scary stories for her own parents use to tell them to her if she would act up at bedtime. Perhaps that is why she refused to sleep without having a nightlight on until she was around thirteen years of age.

"Yes, I know you speak of. My parents were infamous for telling terrible and terrifying bedtime stories."

She adjusts the datapad slightly, watching him work. Shey blinks a few times as the lights flicker then kick on. A few burn out immediately, causing a loud pop followed by shattering glass as the tubes burst.

It takes a moment or two for her eyes to adjust to the sudden light which has chased away the darkness.

She looks to Quinlin, as quiet as a church mouse. Her hands begin to shake and she slowly reaches out to hand the datapad back to Quinlin, her gaze transfixed to his. As if in thought, she chews at her lower lip. When Quinlin takes the datapad from her, she takes a few cautious steps back, canting her head subtlely.

"You're not going to bite me ... are you?" The tone in her voice sounds more like a child's, the question posed just above a whisper. 'The stories weren't all lies.', she thinks to herself. 'Ok. So the monsters do exist. Quinlin hasn't been all scary I'm-going-to-suck-your-blood, though.'

No. Quinlin hasn't given her any reason at all during their partnership on this quest to doubt or to fear. He has been a perfect gentleman, in fact.

'Maybe it's all a ruse, like his disguise. Maybe he plans to drain me dry once we find the crystal.' Her mind continues to come up with many more maybe's as she holds her leery gaze upon him.

[Quinlin Torr]

Quinlin's eyes seem to soften a little as she asks him that question. A sigh is given, and he looks down at the datapad and closes it.

"No Shey, I am not going to bite you. It is against the laws of Khar Sian to take from an innocent."

Walking passed her, Quinlin stopped and gave her a side glance.

" Although we exist, not all monsters are evil."

Opening the datapad as he spoke Quinlin glanced at the screen. There were several floors to this place and it would be some time to go room by room. Now he had to think where they would keep a crystal of importance....where would they hold it? As his mind worked on trying to figure out where to look next, he continued on the subject of the moment....himself.

"....Because I'm not evil. I am a trained soldier of the council of nine. I am sent out to hunt and erradicate the turned ones that sow the seeds of death and destruction. That prey on innocents. I have not, nor will I allow any harm to come to you." The vampyre stepped forward and touched her cheek. " We only have each other right now Shey, we need to trust that one will look after the other and vise versa. I won't let you down..."

With that Quinlin turned and crossed the room to the entrance. Checking the datapad to make sure he knew where they were.

[Cyrel Annat]

The modified Jedi starfighter was only a few minutes behind the Nyte Masque, though Cyrel chose not to land right away. A brief fly-over of the construction sight, allowing his senses to reach out a bit and get a better idea of what lay in waiting. He noted the symbol as well, accompanied by a sense of great danger, moreso than he had anticipated. A few moments later, the ship was docked in another hangar just a few bays down from Syren's ship, though he wasn't completely aware of that.

Once the ship was docked and fees were paid, he left the hangar, leaving the droid to monitor the area and keep the security surveillance ongoing. "A-4, I want to know immediately if anything comes up on the sensors. If anyone approaches the ship or seems a bit too interested, take off and circle the area. There was a storm off in the distance so be careful."

He could sense where Syren was by the time he left the hangar and began making his way towards the site, though did not move in her direction. Not entirely, at least. While he knew that she would not try to harm him, he did not put it entirely past her to try and pull some stunt. The road from the Dark Side was not an easy one, and he could only do so much to guide her in the right direction. For this reason, he needed to get to the site and Sheyleigh in the shortest time possible.

Another patch of permacrete rubble rose from the ground, and while crouched, Cyrel used the higher vantage point to get a better idea of what lay in wait. Many things could hide from view of the ship, and now, they may be more lax in their hiding, figuring that the dust and mist would cloud them from view.

It took only a couple moments of searching to realize that there was definitely something wrong about the place, despite the sense of forboding that washed over him on his arrival. The machinery looked to be in fair enough shape for something that had happened a while back. The areas that were filled in were nearly perfectly circular, appearing less than random. Not like the oft-times jagged angles that came with a cave or tunnel collapsing. Or an old space station.

Climbing down from the rubble, he makes his way across to one of the bulldozers, confirming what he had thought before. These had been used recently, as was evidenced by the very good upkeep on at least this machine. Though no tracks to or from the bulldozer could be found. Two facts that did not add up.

Looking around a bit more, he sent out his senses a bit further, hoping to come up with something that would help to back up his assumptions that someone else had been here recently. Very recently.

With his heightened senses, he knew about Syren's little scuffle, and the other presence though he could not place where that presence had gone. Nor could he pinpoint her exact location. Something else that did not sit well with him.

At this point, he was equal distance from Syren and the actual site, and knowing that she would head there soon enough, Cyrel opts to head towards the site itself to try and find Sheyleigh and whoever was with her. If things were as bad as he thought them to be, he had precious little time to find her. Else the results would be quite dire.

Carefully, the rogue Jedi creeps by the machinery, trying to use them as protection as well as a place to hide. Of course, that would only help for a few more feet before he had a basic wide-open gap to the entrance to the mine. No doubt, Syren would be on his heels before too long.

Not exactly relaxed, though not so uptight as to make his movements rigid, he was still a bit surprised by the sudden laser blast that struck the ground near his feet. It came from the direction of the mines to be certain, which meant that someone did not want him, or anyone else around. A pair of shots fire next to prompt the rogue to dive aside and roll, coming into a crouch and igniting his lightsaber. The next shot would be the downfall of the attacker, as the deflected blast catches the man in the right arm. No more shots would come as the man hurries back into the mine.

Cyrel deactivates his saber before hurrying to get to the mine himself, hoping to catch whoever it was that shot at him. As he glanced down briefly to the hilt in his hand, something told him that this would not be the only time he would use the blade on this trip.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Shey's gaze remains affixed to Quinlin, taking his words to heart. He hasn't given her any reason at all to fear him. So why does she suddenly find herself afraid? Sure, the stories told when she was a young girl come into play, but those were just stories. Weren't they? He doesn't look like the typical monsters she's seen in books or in the movies. He doesn't act like the monsters she's seen on the silverscreen.

Though he has touched her cheek before, she didn't notice how cold his touch is. Realizing it now, though, she flinches; glancing at his hand but she doesn't pull away from the caress altogether.

"I ... I apologize, Quinlin. I've trusted you this far and finding out what you really are shouldn't change that. Just as you won't let harm come to me, I won't let anything harm you either."

Her brows knit gently as she ponders a question. "You can be hurt ... can't you?"

If anything, he's piqued her curiousity. Most people react poorly to that which is unknown to them. People whom are "different", or are not "normal", are treated poorly; feared; shunned.

Sheyleigh watches Quinlin walk away, feeling as she's just hurt his feelings. Well, what's said and done cannot be taken back. She walks up to him and turns the datapad in his hand slightly so she can take a look at it too.

"If I remember the stories about the crystal correctly, we need to go through this door here and then head down three more levels. I remember some of this layout because they were keeping updated over the holonet when the expedition team was here before."

As the packed in earth from above settles, creaks and groans of settling dirt and debris echo throughout the service tunnels. Elsewhere, a few other cave-ins occur, startling Sheyleigh and bringing back the worry of getting buried alive down here.

"Maybe we should get moving. Is there a way to see if there is another exit? Maybe there's another service lift at the other end of the complex?", she inquires as Quinlin forces the steel door open and they proceed.

[Syren Wyssholt]

The sound of a blaster shot being deflected snaps Syren's focus across the way. Squinting, brows furrowed roughly, she is able to make out two figures. Both cloaked but one is wielding a saber. 'Blasted, Cyrel.' No longer is the mysterious presence felt, so Syren defiles the area with her footprints, hurrying over to the Jedi Knight.

"As much as I hate to admit it, Cyrel; we are not getting into those service tunnels by conventional means. We have to find another way in. And damn it all to hell ... I really hate the fact that I have to work with you on this one."

A pang touches her heart as she sees the look in Cyrel's eyes. For the first time in her life, she feels bad that she's disappointed someone. 'Why does it matter to me what he thinks?'

They had been doing so well before this cyrstal. Syren was showing a bit of progress in letting go of the darkness, of letting go of the past and preparing for a new life that had a future.

"Let's go. If you know what's going on up here, then you know that your friend; as well as the two of us ... there is no time. Now, we are all in terrible danger."

Syren deactivates her saber but keeps a firm grip on the hilt as she leads Cyrel away from the circular area and across the torn up permacrete that was once a spacestation.

"About a mile or two ahead there is an old lift. It was one of three entrances for the service tunnels that were below the station. ", she explains as the two move swiftly.

[Cyrel Annat]

And for once, his emotions did show a bit and she did see it in his eyes. Normally, he could keep them in check, not allowing them to be known to others when he didn't want them to. This, though, came a bit unexpected. Or rather, he had hoped that she was changing when perhaps, she was not.

"Lead the way," he answers evenly, allowing her to start off towards the entrance she spoke of before following after. She was right, they were all in terrible danger and for that reason alone, their apparent personal differences would be set aside. They could discuss it later, if the situation warranted it.

[Quinlin Torr]

Quinlin looked back at her and smiled. The smile she always recieved since they began this quest. "Shey, no apologies are neccesary. You have done no harm." With her next question, Quinlin makes a small cut on his arm with his nail. Dark blood slowly makes a single drip that creates a thin streak on his skin.

"Prick me I bleed." Quinlin says with a grin. "Don't worry, it will be healed in a few minutes. As for another way out? According to the map...." The vampyre looks at the tiny screen. "....there are three other exits leading out. One is back from where we were....and the other two are in the direction we need to head. Something tells me we have to hurry...that time is now, not on our side."

Quinlin steps slightly passed her and seems to sniff the air. "It feels....wrong. The vampyre slightly narrows his eyes. Then looks back at her, his hazel eyes back again. "Come on, let's keep going."

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Sheyleigh winces as Quinlin makes himself bleed. She's never been one who can handle the sight of blood all that well. However, if it had been her own blood she'd seen, she'd spaz.

As Quinlin points out that they must hurry, she nods in agreeance, following along behind him as quickly as she possibly can.

"I just had an unpleasant thought, Quinlin. What do we ..."; there's a hitch in her voice as she climbs over some of the rubble and debris in the middle of their path. " ... do if it's not down here? I haven't heard anything else on the news about other possible locations for the crystal."

If Stefan could see his Sheyleigh now, he'd chuckle. Shey is the type of woman who frowns if she breaks a nail or gets dirt lodged underneath them while tending to her beautiful rose gardens he had designed for her. This thought brings a bittersweet smile to the edge of her lips.

The rolling boom of thunder from the surface echoes in a strange way down here in the service tunnels. In fact, when Shey first hears it, she stops dead in her tracks, her eyes wide. Before she allows panic to set in, though, she listens carefully.

"There must be a storm coming in. Good thing we're down here."

Then again, with the freshly moved earth about to be weighted down by a soaking rain, it may not be such a good thing that they are below the surface.

"Are we there yet?", she asks in a child-like voice, trying not to giggle as she asks.

[Quinlin Torr]

Quinlin stood waiting for her. Watching her carefully as she made her way over the rubble. At her question, Quinlin shook his head. This had to be it, for in the reports this was the last resting place for it and no other.

"Shey, this has to be the place. I had run a series of checks on looking for a few leads on our way here....and....aside from the stories of it being here, there isn't another location mentioned. This was the resting place for it, and this was where it was lost."

The vampyre stepped forward and helped her down. Reaching out to brush an errant strand of hair from her face, Quinlin smiled...but the smile faded as his head canted to the left as he heard the rumbling.

"Storm? Unlikely...I believe it could be the ones who tried to bury us alive up there. Let's keep moving."

They walked a ways down when she asked in a child like voice..

"Are we there yet?"

That made him turn and laugh, shaking his head at the same time. She was growing on him, at first it was more business...now it was more like friends. "No sweetie, we are not." He attempted to say in a more parental tone. But obviously failed. Quinlin had no heirs to his namesake...so there for no experience sounding fatherly.

"Hold on..." He said as he held his hand up and looked over the edge. The elevator shaft was empty and doors open. Looking down into the dark chasm, Quinlin glanced at Shey. "I can't see the top of the lift.....I can climb us down. You ready for this?"

[Syren Wyssholt]

Time was of the essence so Syren and Cyrel cheated in covering the one to two mile distance they needed to cover by tapping into their force abilities to speed up their progress.

The storm was moving faster, though; and the rains began to fall in sheets. "Here! We can jump down here." They had reached one of the three service entrances to the rubble-strewn space station. With one violent flash of lighting, it becomes apparent that the lift no longer exists. Thick cables swing eerily as the wind gusts and the shattered remains of the lift itself lay scattered over the floor below.

Syren harnesses her saber and tosses her cloak over her shoulders. After a quick look around, she jumps down into the dark shaft, using the force to control the fall. Judging distances in the dark isn't easy and she lands a little harder than she would have liked, but a shoulder roll to her right gets her back onto her feet again.

She grabs her saber once again and engages it, using the glowing light of the blade like a lightstick to look around the immediate area while Cyrel makes his own decent into the tunnel.

It'd been years since she last visited this station and back then, it was still standing. It takes her a minute or two to get her bearings about her, then she taps Cyrel on the shoulder and points to the left.

"That way. I thought you said there was only one friend of yours down here, Cyrel. I feel two presences." Dark eyes shift slowly to look to Cyrel, almost accusatory by expression. No time to argue, so she dismisses the unspoken accusation by turning around and heading off down the tunnel.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Carefully, Shey tip-toed towards the edge of the elevator shaft and peered down into the darkness over Quinlin's shoulder. "Oh no. No, no no! You are not dropping me down another hole again!" , she adamantly states as she steps away from the open shaft.

The look given to her by Quinlin said it all. If she - if they - wanted that crystal and the chance to go back in time and fix what went wrong, she was going to end up dropping down that deep, dark, hole.

Clearly, the expression returned to Quinlin said it all. She is so not amused.

"Oh alright. Sithspit! I really hate this part of this little adventure. Just in case you haven't learned that yet.", she says as she walks back over to Quinlin and the open elevator shaft.

And though she isn't looking forward to this at all, something deep down inside says to her that the crystal will be down there.

"Let's get it over with, Quinlin."

[Cyrel Annat]

He lands a bit softer, due to the light offered by Syren's saber and once down, he reaches for his own. Dark eyes narrow slightly to try and see a bit better though it was not easy. The glow from their combined blades does little to illuminate the distance, casting darker shadows that seemed to add a greater ominous mood to the already pall surroundings.

"I do have only one friend here, Syren, so you need not think that I am leading you into a trap. There is another here with her, and it is likely whoever took her from Coruscant. The fact that she is still alive means that there is still some time."

And while he had been here a long time ago, he allows her the honor of leading the way. Now was not the time for that discussion to come up, though it would likely have to come up eventually. Perhaps once this was finished.

[Quinlin Torr]

Quinlin smiled through the whole scene. He knew she definately hated this part of the journey, he was beginning too also as each drop was getting much farther. Looking at the walls of the shaft, it was metal...no way he could climb them down. Taking a deep breath, Quinlin turned to pick her up. Cradling her in his arms, he gave a smile which showed his fangs a little as his eyes turned that ice blue.

"This is the only part of the drops I don't mind."

Quinlin said as he carried her. Stepping to the edge, he prepared for the long drop and her loud scream. Looking to her one last time, he took a deep breath. "Hang on..." And hopped off. The wind created by the freefall blew his hair upwards. Ice blue eyes watched as the top of the car came up quickly. Bracing his legs, and using the force....Quinlin landed with little problem.

Placing her down gently, those ice blue eyes glanced around. Then moving up to the lift doors, His fingers dug into the crease between them and Quinlin pried the doors open. A groaning of metal was heard as he forced the doors open slowly. Once open, he hopped up and out into the semi lit hallway. Some lights were on, some were dead. The coast seemed clear and he turned to help Shey up. Once she was up, they began to walk the way the datapad indicated.

"This should be the floor....it doesn't give an exact location....but according to the last reports of the station, its in one of these rooms." Quinlin's eyes had turned back to hazel and he glanced around trying ot figure out which room to look in first.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

Again, Shey's grip around Quinlin's neck is tight. She hates this part with a passion! She manages a small smile to his words then buries her face snug against his shoulder, her body tensing as she prepares for the drop.

Once he tells her to hang on, her grip becomes as tight as it can possibly be, maybe to the point of even choking the poor man a bit. Her stomach immediately feels like its up in her throat and her heart races. Yes. She screams again, though this time the sound is somewhat muffled against Quinlin's shirt.

Once she's set on solid ground again, she rakes her fingers through her long dark hair a bit and takes a few quick but deep breaths to settle her nerves.

"I really hate that."

A light shake her head sends the remaining errant strands of hair away from her eyes and she reaches up, taking Quinlin's hand to get out of the sunken elevator.

As they walk along the way, Shey takes the time to read the signs on a few of the doors they pass.


- EMERGENCY EXIT ONLY - , reads one.


- CONTROL ROOM - , reads another.

Near the end of the hallway, Shey spots one door and gets this feeling that they'll find the crystal just on the other side.


- CENTRAL CORE - AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY -

"Maybe we should check in here first. Though ...', she says dismally as she bends over, looking at the mechanism of the doors entry. "...it looks like it takes a security card to access the room. I bet it requires a high clearance level, too."

Shey turns and looks to Quinlin. "Now what do we do?"

[Quinlin Torr]

"I'll show you..."

Quinlin replied as he reached up and behind him, to grasp the hilt that stuck out from within his coat. The sheath being hidden under the leather material. It slides out with a "shhhhinnggg" and he holds it in his right hand. The hilt looks like a pistol grip, it has a large revolving chamber that should store ballistic slugs, large ones. The rest what would normally be a barrel was actually a long slightly curved blade. Looking at her, he reached out and gently nudged her aside and out of the way.

Hefting the gun-blade up, Quinlin ran it through the door. And began to pull it downwards, and at an angle. Cutting a line diagonally through it. After the blade reached the bottom, Quinlin retrieved it and kicked the lower half. It moved slightly....sheathing the gun-blade, Quinlin gripped the edges of the door threshold and gave another two kicks. The bottom half finally moved and fell from its track, leaving the top half locked where it was.

Bending to enter the room, Quinlin looked around to make sure it was safe. "Alright Shey, it's clear....c'mon." He siad as he held his hand through the opening he just made.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

As Quinlin sliced through the door and pried an opening for them to pass through, Sheyleigh clasped her hands over her ears; for the screeching and groaning of the metal was nearly as painful to her ears as nails on a blackboard. It took her a few moments to realize that the sounds had ceased. Her hands over her ears only drowned out the intensity of the noise, but it didn't completely muffle it.

Blinking a few times as her hands were slowly lowered, she looked to the door and was shocked to see that Quinlin had succeeded. Deep down inside, there was dread that this would be the one obstacle that would end their hunt for the Eternity Crystal.

A faint smile curved the corners of her lips and she looked to Quinlin as he slid through the opening. At his announcement that it was clear, Shey took a quick look around then stepped forward, taking his offered hand.

For some odd reason, she felt as if they were not alone; that there were eyes watching them from deep within the shadows. She tells herself that its just her imagination running wild. There couldn't possibly be anyone - or anything - else down here with them. It's taken them the better part of five or so hours just to reach this point, after all.

"Do you hear that, Quinlin?", she asks once inside the new chamber. Slowly, she lets go of his hand and takes a few steps forward, turning to try to see just what it is that is making a low humming noise.

"Where is that coming from?" Her questions are whispered; or so it would seem they are. Though the humming is a sound that one must almost strain to hear, somehow it drowns out all other noise, as if it's the loudest thing in the chamber.

Her hand presses flat against her chest, right over her heart and she looks to it. Though one can normally feel their own heartbeat, it feels ... different, somehow. It's as if whatever is causing the humming is also nestled deep within her body; coursing its way through her veins and whispering words that she cannot make out to her innermind.

She looks to Quinlin, wondering if he feels it, too. The thought that he is a vampire doesn't cross her mind. Maybe he can't feel it.

From the corner of Shey's eye a flickering, pulsating light is noticed. Faint; subtle, but there all the same. She turns and proceeds towards it and is stopped dead in her tracks just a few feet away.

Lodged into the lower portion of the stone wall is the sharp point of what appears to be the shard of a crystal.

Time seems to stop for Shey as she stares wide-eyed at it. Unable to speak at this point, she simply stands there staring in fascination - and perhaps in fear - of the apparent artifact that has remained a legend of myths.

Until now ....

[Quinlin Torr]

Quinlin heard it too, his head canting to the left. Eyebrows knitted in concentration. Slowly he made his way around the room. A strange humming...more of a thrumming..the type you feel more than hear of an object which held power... Nodding slowly, Quinlin looked back at her.

"Yes, I do.... But where??"

He asked as he stopped to catch Shey slowly making her way to something she saw. Quinlin felt a chill run down his spine. The type of chill that spoke of anticipation of what one sought...the feeling of This is it....

Quinlin walked over and stopped next to her....His eyes fixed upon this piece of crystal. Quinlin dropped to one knee and stayed there.....Slowly he reached out to it. Touched it......It even hummed at his touch...... Looking up at Shey, Quinlin was silent. As he looked back, his voice came out soft...

"Do you think....our quest has come to an end? Is this what we came for?"

Quickly looking up at her again, Quinlin smiled and reached for her arm. Taking it, he said with a little excitement.

"Shey, do you know what this means?? Our lives we lost....is within our grasps once more."

[Syren Wyssholt]

"Whoever took her?", Syren states - a wee bit sarcastically - as she manuevers her way through the shadowed, rubble strewn tunnels of the former space station, heading deeper and deeper; their focus on the two in search of the crystal.

The crystal that Syren will not hesitate to kill for.

"I doubt she was taken. More likely that she is here of her own free will."

They come to the first drop and Syren breaks in stride for a moment to gauge the distance. Altering the angle of her saber's blade, she glances once to Cyrel then shrugs, stepping off the ledge to fall to the next level below. She uses the force to control the plunge. Upon landing, her knees bend deeply, helping to cushion the impact to prevent injury.

She gets out of Cyrel's way and uses the light emitted from her blade to look around the immediate vicinity. The fresh footprints left in the dirt show her the direction in which Sheyleigh and Quinlin went; though she could have determined it simply enough with the force had she wanted to.

"Let's go. We have to hurry. Something's different. I can feel it."

Syren and Cyrel make good time winding their way over, under and through the deteriorating tunnels. They are at an advantage though; using the force to help them see the twists and turns they must take moments before needing to take them.

The distance between the Jedi, Dark Jedi and the two in the control is closed swiftly. Syren and Cyrel have managed to drop down the two final drops and find themselves peering at the doorway in which Quinlin had torn open.

Dark eyes avert from the handiwork to Cyrel. Whether Syren realizes it or not, her gloved fingers are kneading the hilt of her saber, turning it slowly within her grasp.

The emotions coming from the other side of the doorway are almost overwhelming, but they also tell Syren all she needs to know. They believe they have found the resting place of the Eternity Crystal...

[Sheyleigh Castille]

"Do you think....our quest has come to an end? Is this what we came for?"

Shey hardly heard anything Quinlin said. The humming seemed to get louder in her head as he touched the exposed tip of the crystal shard.

"I think so.", she said; her own voice just as quiet as his.

Quickly looking up at her again, Quinlin smiled and reached for her arm. Taking it, he said with a little excitement.

"Shey, do you know what this means?? Our lives we lost....is within our grasps once more."

Tears well up within Shey's eyes and she slowly forces her eyes from the thrumming crystal to settle on Quinlin's. Nothing could have prepared her - or even him - for this moment. Granted, Shey has been wondering the whole time how she'd react but now that everything is about to be changed ....

Her lips part gently, as if about to speak, then close again. She lays her hand over Quinlin's as he keeps a light grasp against her arm, and turns to look at the crystal again; the tears beginning to trickle down her cheeks freely.

"I .... I'm scared, Quinlin."

She looks to him again and begins to pace back and forth as she explains.

"Stefan had asked me before he died if I would ever go back in time to right a wrong. To save a loved one. I couldn't answer his question at the time because truthfullly - I didn't know if I would or if I could.

As she speaks, she looks from Quinlin to the crystal over and over again while walking back and forth in front of Quinlin.

"Now? The power to do so is literally right at our fingertips and I'm scared to death.

"What if ... somehow they're different? What if what we go back to fix makes Stefan and Sabina different? What if we are only delaying the inevitable? What if they were meant to be taken from our lives, Quinlin? What if what we're about to do sets off an entirely different chain of events and forces us - forces our loved ones - to suffer worse than we already have?"

Sheyleigh had never considered the deeper scope of what playing 'God' could mean. Until now. Chewing roughly on her pouty lower lip, she walks over to the crystal, squats down and brushes her fingertips across it. The shard thrums louder with her touch, then resumes its low hum at the absence of her touch.

Overwhelmed by the prospect that shortly she could be dancing with her Stefan back home in the rose garden he created for her is too much. Her own legs are unable to bear her weight and she ends up plopping down unceremoniously next to the wall housing the crystal shard.

Gently, she wipes the tears from her dirty cheeks and looks up to Quinlin.

"I think before we dig this thing out of the wall, Quinlin ... we need to seriously consider what it is we are about to do and decide if we truly want to bring back the dead."

[Cyrel Annat]

The rogue Jedi could sense the emotions from the chamber as well as Syren could, and could also sense Syren's anxiety at entering the chamber. A brief glance cast downwards to her hand and the hilt of her saber, wondering what all she intended once they stepped through the doorway. Beyond all of that, there was the nagging feeling that something still was not right. After all, they had both been attacked when they arrived and since their entrance into the station and its tunnels, they had not come across anyone.

Odd.

"Be wary, Syren. We have had no sign of our previous attackers since entering here. Do not let this moment cloud your vision."

His voice was even and calm and simply a reminder of something that she should already be aware of. Though he did have to wonder if she would get too caught up in the moment, as apparently those within the chamber had already. He was here for a different purpose, and thus was not overwhelmed by the excitement of what was rumored to be within these walls. His senses were still sharp, keen, prepared for anything. Another brief glance to Syren's saber gave him pause to wonder just what anything might entail.

[Quinlin Torr]

Quinlin watched her pace the floor, listening to her every word. Was he hearing correctly? Was she backing out? He could grant her that her words spoke wisdom, that to a certain extent they were true. But he....They, had come this far. How could they turn back now?

"Shey, I understand your apprehension...I'm scared too...but we have come this far becasue what we believed, what we wanted kept us vigil on our quest to right the wrong done to us, and the man and woman we both love."

Quinlin exhaled and rubbed a hand upon his forehead. His chestnut colored hair falling abou this face as that hand ran its course through his hair after that.

"So you're saying we have to sit and think this through even further?? Why?? He's waiting for you....She's waiting for me..... We found it, I say we through it to the four winds and use......."

It was then Quinlin felt them, hazel eyes turning to the brilliant ice blue and fangs showing as he spun to face the door. That gunblade gripped by his right hand, his voice had changed and he stepped protectively before her, keeping her behind him.

"We have company.... I'll protect you."

The vampyre relaxed his left hand and talon like nails protruded. A soft hiss escaped him. The Crystal....Sheyleigh....both he would die protecting if need be.

[Cyrel Annat]

Without the distractions regarding the crystal to dull his senses, he had little trouble in detecting the change in emotion coming from within the chamber. At least from one source. An almost troubled emotion, or so he was getting the vibe for, a protective demeanor with the possibility of being quite hostile. Not exactly what he felt like dealing with at this point, though the protective part meant one of two things. Either protecting the crystal or protecting Sheyleigh.

Knowing Syren's own obsession with the crystal would not make things any easier and her entering first could be just short of catastrophic in regards to everyone living to tell the tale again. "Stay alert, Syren, and remain calm. This is not the time to let your emotions take over."

After all, before all of this business about chasing after a crystal, she had asked him for help and guidance. To this point, he had yet to stop giving that aid, despite the fact that she likely was repulsed by it. Still, he had to do what he could to keep the situation managable.

Without another word, the Jedi stepped through the doorway with both hands opened, facing the two that he now saw in within. It was one way to show that he did not intend harm, unlike the pair of glowing lightsabers that likely would have appeared had his current companion entered first.

"Relax, we are not here to harm either of you. I am Cyrel Annat. A friend sent me to ensure Lady Castille's safety."

[Sheyleigh Castille]

"So you're saying we have to sit and think this through even further?? Why?? He's waiting for you....She's waiting for me..... We found it, I say we through it to the four winds and use......."

Shey looks up to Quinlin from where she still sits on the dirty floor, nodding her head ever so slightly. She plucks at the hem of her torn and dirtied skirt, thinking carefully for a few moments before speaking.

"I know he's waiting for me. He's waiting for me in heaven, Quinlin. Stefan and I always believed that one would be waiting for the other when our time to pass had come. We'd be there with open arms at the gates, waiting.

"I'm just ... scared, Quinlin. Would you really want your Sabina back if it changes something about her? What if we do this, Quinlin ...", Shey stands slowly. "What if we do this and everything goes along as we hope it does then all of a sudden they are ripped from our lives again? Only, what if this time when it happens, Stefan isn't blown up in an explosion resulting from an auto accident but he's shot in the head and lives; leaving him invalid and trapped inside of a body that won't let him do what he wants to do? I couldn't live with myself, Quinlin, knowing that I..."

The look which mars Quinlin's face sends instant lines of worry across Shey's forehead as her brows knit deeply. She steps towards him once, reaching a hand out towards his. Before she can ask what it is, another appears through the doorway.

Shey's heart seems to stop; skipping several beats as she takes a step or two back and away from the door. Dark eyes grow wide, both trepidation and surprise at this sudden appearance. She steps over, placing herself slightly behind Quinlin but still able to peer over his shoulder at the robed man.

"Relax, we are not here to harm either of you. I am Cyrel Annat. A friend sent me to ensure Lady Castille's safety."

Shey's brows furrow deeper and she takes a step forwards, still keeping Quinlin safely in front of her. She leans to the side a little, gazing at Cyrel while wondering how he knew her name and how he ever found her; especially here.

Apprehensive, she doesn't say a word. Though, the stance of the robed man and the way he displays his palms up and spread to his sides signals that he at least appears to be true to his words of no harm intended. This brings a slight comfort to the young woman, but not enough to put her completely at ease.

"How ... do you know my name?", she finally asks, though her question is more murmured as opposed to openly voiced. The glimpse of a shadow gliding against the torn door catches Shey's attention. Quickly, her attention diverts to Cyrel as her eyes cast a worried glare towards Cyrel. "And who is with you?"

[Quinlin Torr]

Quinlin reached back and touched Sheyleigh's arm. With knowing she was safely there, he turned his ice blue eyes to the force user. An inner smirk as he himself as well as all vampyres were force sensitive...though the dark side was what they harnessed, a few like Quinlin were taught but hated to use it as it only took away the honor of a good fight. But in times like this, against another force user, it was needed.

"Well friend, as you can see the lady is safe and sound."

The feel of someone else made Quinlin's eyes more intense in hue. His lip curled and his fangs showed. "No use hiding behind him... I know you're there..... Show yourself." The vampyre said in a deeper voice than his normal. His arm came up and pointed the blade's barrel at the cloaked man and entrance.

[Syren Wyssholt]

"Stay alert Syren..." , and the rest is mumbled in a mocking tone as she rolls her dark eyes. Reflecting back on their previous conversation back on Corellia, she confirms that this man is most definitely insufferable.

Syren saunters in, one of her two sabers still gripped and ignited in her hand. She looks to Sheyleigh, the whelp of a lass hiding behind another. Her attention settles on Quinlin, standing so protectively in front of his maiden fair. Syren stiffles a laugh, shaking her head.

"Down boy. We're not here to harm anyone - unless I have to."

Her own eyes seem to grow colder the longer she keeps them affixed to Quinlin's icey stare.

"See, Cyrel. She's safe. You get them out of here. I'll bring up the rear."

Syren must suffer from bouts of adult onset A.D.D. because as she stares at Quinlin, she idly thinks; 'Eh, he's not too bad looking. He'd look much better though if his head were mounted on my wall above the fireplace.' The thought brings a rougishly sly smile to her pretty face.

As the darkside is clouded, so too are Syren's thoughts and emotions. On one hand, she wants nothing more than to follow through - get everyone safely out of here and as far from the place as possible. On the other, she wants to battle Quinlin - and Cyrel if it came down to it - to the bloody death and get her hands on that crystal.

For now, she'll pass off the whole goody-goody personae and let the others figure out what it is that they plan to do.

[Cyrel Annat]

"I was an associate of Stefan's," he explains to Sheyleigh, watching Quinlin and Syren more through feeling than his actual eyes, though his gaze does dart briefly between the two. Something told him that this could turn ugly very quickly if extreme caution was not maintained. "There is great danger here and the longer we tarry, the greater the chance of being caught in the middle of it."

He remained just inside the entryway, allowing enough room for Syren to have made her entrance, but no farther. Until Quinlin and Sheyleigh were more relaxed, he did not find it wise to advance. At least from this distance, he could better react to anything that may come about. He preferred to avoid an altercation if at all possible, especially with the would-be attackers still moving about through the rest of the tunnels.

[Quinlin Torr]

Quinlin moved back with Sheyleigh protected behind him. Once close enough to the wall, the vampyre averted his eyes quickly to make sure it was there within reach and with his eyes kept on the two at the door, Quinlin reached out and when his fingers grasped the humming crystal pulled it out with his supernatural strength. With the crystal within his gloved grasp, the vampyre nodded to them.

"Alright, now I'm ready to move on."

Leaning closer to Shey, Quinlin explains himself. "We take it with us, and we can talk more about our decision whether to pursue rescuing them or to leave it be and lose the crystal properly."

Quinlin slipped the crystal within the confines of the coat and stepped forward, closer to the two....testing them to see if they came for what he and Sheyleigh had risked thier lives for. If they did, then a fight would surely ensue as Quinlin had no plan on giving it up to anyone until he himself chose too.

"Shall we?"

He asked as he pointed to the entrance they all came through.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

"I was an associate of Stefan's," he explains to Sheyleigh...

Everything going on around the small group ... the soft humming which grew louder when Quinlin's hand clutched at the crystal shard, the sounds in the tunnels - small bits of debris and rocks crumbling in - the flickering of the lights ... she no longer heard any of it. She didn't even hear Quinlin mention something about discussing options of using it or not. All she could focus on was Cyrel, his words of being an associate of her late husband's repeating themselves in her mind.

Just as Quinlin had lent in to whisper to her, she slowly skirted around from behind him, her eyes locked on Cyrel's as if he were the only one other than she present. She has so many questions for the Jedi. Soft lips part gently and tears crest along her lower lids, shimmering on the edge of soot-colored lush lashes; but her questions don't seem to become verbalized; at least not yet.

She was interrupted by Quinlin's question posed to the group as a whole, pointing to the entrance.

"Hm? Oh yes! Let's discuss matters once we're clear of this place. It feels like a tomb."

Shey has no idea how close to the truth her words are.

[Cyrel Annat]

But for Cyrel, her words were simply the echo of an underlying threat that he felt since they arrived at the station. It was not a place that he planned to ever return to once he left, and for right now, getting as far away from the place was first and foremost on his mind. And it was only the slightest tickle to the back of his neck that gave him any indication that something else was not quite right. That and the screaming in his mind that they must make haste.

While his hands had been empty when he had entered the room, that changed so fast that only the quickest trained eye might have noticed. So fluid the motion as the Jedi's right hand withdrew the lightsaber from his belt, ignited it and spun it around as he himself half-turned to deflect a blaster bolt shot into the room. The bolt itself was deflected to strike harmlessly against the wall, but the apparent danger that had been looming all around them had finally surfaced.

Turning fully to face the door, his left hand raised to grasp the hilt of his lightsaber, the dark blue glow of the blade helping to illuminate the area a bit more, though it did add a more ominous atmosphere.

"Are there any other ways out of this chamber?" he asked over his shoulder as another bolt was deflected. He knew the answer already and gave only the slightest nod to Syren as her own blades ignited to add to the group's defense.

[Syren Wyssholt]

'Don't get too attached to that crystal. I plan to have it in my hands before we reach the surface.', she had been thinking to herself as Cyrel was busy coaxing the other two to hurry along. It didn't take one with force sensitivity to realize that he was picking up on the growing danger just as easily as she was.

As soon as the first blaster bolt came zinging through the open door, Syren had her second blade removed from her hip and ignited as she pivoted upon her heels and side-stepped, placing herself in front of Quinlin and Sheyleigh. Cyrel's fluid motions safely deflected the first bolt, as well as the second, allowing Syren enough time to get herself into a better position to deflect should another come flying in their direction.

"No. This is the last level of the space station. The only thing that was beneath it before it was destroyed were the wells containing the fuel tanks."

The small group has to backtrack from whence they came in order to get out. Unfortunately, that means dealing with the highly skilled assassins of the ages old Mecrosa Order. Something Syren would like to avoid at all costs.

A quick look out the door, then another, reveals that those two blaster shots were merely what she refers to as 'seekers'; aimed not to harm but to reveal where one's location is. Reaching out through the force, Syren works to determine how many lifeforms there are in the immediate area in addition to their own.

"There's two more down here besides us.", she mentions to Cyrel while criss-crossing in front of him to step out of the door. Once in the narrow corridor, only illuminated by the flicker glow of emergency lighting that is rapidly losing its power from the failing emergency generator, she presses her back up against the wall, disengaging her blades.

A full minute passes without incident. They're watching. Waiting. Syren knows the drill. Her experiences from the past of dealing with those of the Mecrosa Order haven't been forgotten. Seeing that Cyrel wants to move, she shakes her head, using a hand signal to indicate that he shouldn't.

Sure enough, another series of blaster fire begins, peppering the area with red bolts. Syren engages both blades again and uses her skills at wielding both blades which have been honed over years of practice, to deflect the bolts back at their owners; more or less clearing a way for Cyrel to begin leading the other two from the control room and into the corridor.

The assassins of the Mecrosa Order move back as Syren moves forwards, ceasing their fire. "Hurry, we don't have much time to make it up to the next level before we'll be met by more of them.", she tells Cyrel and the others, sensing the planned retreat by the assassins.

As she waits for the three to hurriedly make their way up to her, she devises a plan that is risky, but should work long enough to allow them to escape relatively unscathed.

Or so she hopes.

[Quinlin Torr]

Quinlin wanted to run past the two force users and right into the fray of battle with these unsuspecting fools. He was an immortal, to a point...but immortal none-the-less. To be led along by the hand was almost an insult, but looking back at Sheyleigh...he knew why he couldn't just run off and take care of the scum that threatened them. She needed him to be there, to protect her as he said he would. Swallowing his pride, Quinlin nodded to her.

"Let's go....stay behind me Shey...If they start firing again, dont move. You're safe with me."

Walking with them, Quinlin fought the urge to charge the vermin. None of them knew what they were getting into, nor who they were with. If worse came to worse, Quinlin would relinquish protection of Shey to the Jedi and go ahead alone to ensure the way was cleared...even if it meant the possibility of him losing his life. Even the Immortal Vampyres had weaknesses that could be exploited if you knew what they were....and odds were, that the group that hounded them could have the uncanny chance of stumbling upon it.

[Cyrel Annat]

"Hurry, we dare not waste any time," he calls over his shoulder to Sheyleigh and Quinlin as he, too, moves out into the corridor following Syren. This was not at all what he had planned on when coming here, though what exactly did he expect? Likely, he was not certain.

A brief flicker in the emergency lighting causes the corridor to dim once again, illuminated almost ominously by the glow of lightsabers. Not much light to go by for those few moments, but he was not going by actual sight for the most part. Rather, using the Force to sense where he was going, as well as trying to keep tabs on the attackers.

[Syren Wyssholt]

The last flickers of softly illuminated light finally winked out, bathing the tunnels in darkness. Now that they can no longer rely on their vision to get them back to the surface, those sensitive in the force will have to use their skills - as well as memory - to reach the open. The moment that the generator gave out, Syren disengaged both of her sabers, but kept them firmly gripped within her hands.

Everyone stopped moving. The silence which fell over them was almost deafening, but welcomed; as it afforded at least three of the four to better hear everything else that was going on. From somewhere ahead of them came the sound of feet shuffling in the dirt, pebbles tumbling across the floor, and the barely heard trace of a whispered command. Unfortunately, it couldn't be made out as to what that command exactly was.

"Cyrel.", she whispers. "There is one other way out of here, but it will be dangerous because of the position it'll leave you in."

Sensing that she has gained the attention of the Jedi Knight, she continues; her own voice barely more than a whisper. "Take them back. Enter the room just past the control room where we were. In there, you'll find the maintainence shaft leading to the old wells containing the fuel tanks."

She could feel the emotion radiating from Cyrel. "Trust me on this. " Had she wanted the Jedi Knight dead, she would have killed him during the voyage to Adony Station when she swooped down upon him like a hawk diving for its prey. She still needs Cyrel .. which grates on her nerves worse than nails on a blackboard .. but it's true.

"Follow the maintainence shaft to the very end. From there, you can climb up a very narrow tunnel to the surface using the ladder set within the wall. I'll catch up with you and meet you near the ships."

She didn't stick around to hear any protests. Instead, Syren takes off up the corridor; away from Cyrel, Quinlin, and Shey; towards the broken, partially caved-in elevator shaft, engaging her blades once again.

The two in the same corridor opened fire again, each of their shots were deflected easily as she raced her way to the shaft. 'It's working. Come on ... follow me, boys.', she thinks to herself as their shots change direction and give chase to her wake.

Once to the shaft, she springs inside and disengages her blades. Yes, this leaves her vulnerable from the rear but it cannot be avoided. Jumping up, she grabs a hold of the opening in the lifts ceiling and uses her feet to help pull herself up onto the roof of the fallen car. She peers down, just in time to catch the scuffled arrival of the two assassins who gave chase.

Looking up, using the force to allow her to see - even if it's just dimmed vision in the total darkness - she eyes the cables that were once used to raise and lower the lift. As it is, that's her way up to the next level; so, she jumps up and takes a hold; shimmying her way up the cables hand over hand.

'Good. Keep following me. Forget the others. That's right. Come on ... come on ... keep coming ...'

[Quinlin Torr]

Quinlin watched the two, his night vision kicking in as soon as the lights went out. A smirk showed as the mortals thought the two behind them couldn't hear. Quinlin was a vampyre, he could hear, see, and smell at a higher level than they could. Leaning over to Shey, Quinlin gently touched her cheek and whispered so she could hear. " Remember, I can see in the dark as if it were light. You're safe with me here." Then looking up, he watched the dark jedi move off to engage in her plan.

Quinlin got Cyrel's attention and spoke softly. "I can see in this darkness as well as you can see in the daylight. Tell me where to go and I shall lead the way." Quinlin stated as his eyes had changed from the hazel to the glowing ice blue. His gunblade was out now and ready to use. Any of them would be attackers get too close and they'd have thier backs blown out....literally.

[Cyrel Annat]

And with no chance for him to protest, he was forced to simply pull his lips into a grim line, exhaling through his nose. While he did not doubt the truth to the other way out, he did wonder at her motives for separating them. Perhaps it was entirely for their collective benefit, but something told him that it would somehow benefit her more.

Turning from the hallway and glancing over to Shey and Quinlin, he finally let his gaze rest on the man that accompanied the wife of his old friend. "Back the way that we came, beyond the chamber. We must hurry as well, and hope that our attackers do not know about this."

His words were hushed, enough to be heard by Quinlin and likely Sheyleigh, but little farther than that. No point in announcing it to everyone around. He did not know much of what to expect, but he did know that time was of the absolute essence. If they were discovered, they would be in quite a precarious position, especially if even trace amounts of fuel remained in any of the tanks.

[Sheyleigh Castille]

The lights finally gave out, causing Sheyleigh to utter a surprised yelp. Blinded - atleast until her eyes were able to adjust to the darkness - she reached out, feeling for a familiar form. It comes naturally when one feels fear - quickened heart rate, faster shallow breathing; so when Quinlin's hand touched her cheek, she physically jerked. Slowly, her eyes became accustomed to the darkness. She could barely make out the darker outlined shapes of the Jedi Knight and Quinlin. Luckily, when Quinlin had leaned in to whisper his reassurances in her ear, she noticed his eyes. The soft bluish incandescent 'glow' helped to affirm his promised words of being safe.

But, the Jedi Knight. He is the man she desperately seeks to stand near. He mentioned her Stefan. He knew her husband and the hope in her heart that this Jedi Knight will be able to answer questions still unanswered about Stefan's death is near-bursting!

However, this is not the time nor the place for jeopordizing the man's time - or his attention. They're being shot at by ... by ...

'Who else is down here with us?', she wonders as she follows behind Cyrel and Quinlin...

[Syren Wyssholt]

She reached the next level and hoisted herself up into the corridor as more blaster fire rained up the shaft. Luckily the bolts whizzed past or embedded themselves within the wall to the left which had collapsed. She knew that at least one of the two who had followed her was making his way up the cable. She felt the swaying change as the assassin's weight was added. The shift was subtle, as the man moved with a speed and stealth that only enforced the fear the expert killers of the Mecrosa Order instill in their victims.

Wasting not a minute, Syren hurried her way up the corridor, then dashed into the next elevator. With the power out, she'd have to repeat the previous actions in order to keep her lead on the two assassins. The emergency hatch in the roof of the lift is popped up and again, she jumps up onto the roof and uses the cables as her means of escape.

The two have moved faster than she had anticipated as one begins firing his blaster pistol up into the escape hatch. Syren loosens a grunt through gritted teeth as one of his shots grazes the side of her shin. Enabling a basic force technique, she blocks the pain from her mind and continues on her way. Seeing that they weren't able to slow - or stop - their query, the two assassins continue to give chase, following her up the cables.

Upon reaching the final level, Syren scrambles towards the large hole which had been blocked hours ago by the machinery. There's no other way out from here!

Dark eyes flit here and there, her mind races through the possibilities open to her. There aren't many, unfortunately.

Then an idea strikes. She's only been able to make this technique work once before, years ago, but she's never mastered it. It requires much concentration and strength. She knows right now that she'll only be able to make it last for a few minutes; but that should be all the time that she needs.

Judging by the softened footfalls of the two assassins, they'll be upon her in a matter of minutes. Less time than she'd like, but unfortunately, she can't just make time stop.

Closing her eyes, she clears her mind and puts all of her attention focused on the task at hand. If the two assassins quicken their steps in the slightest, it'll end up being a fight - her blades against their bolts.

The seconds seem to pass slowly, feeling more like dragged out minutes. Then she feels it. It feels as if there are waves gently rippling throughout her body. Then, it begins to fade. Deepening her concentration, evening out her breathing, she brings the feeling back.

*****

Standing in the center of what once was the public level of Adony Station, Syren waits for the two assassins to emerge from the darkened corridor. It hadn't taken them long. Once they see her standing there, both blades engaged, they immediately begin to circle - taking separate directions. One takes the right, the other takes the left.

Once the two assassins are positioned to be directly across from each other, Syren in the direct center, they begin to fire. Only two shots go off - then all is silent. Nothing is left but the fading echo of the two blaster pistol shots and dust rising, then settling, in the air.
The two assassins lay on the ground - dead.

Syren is no where to be seen ....