The Empty Orphanage

[Ireen Cole]

The facade was maintained with military precision: between 1900 and 2100 hours, ninety percent of the lights were turned on in random sequence, at three minute intervals; between 2100 and 2200 hours, the drapes were drawn; of a day, the sound of children's voices vaulted the high walls, and, of a night, the deliveries arrived. Above the durasteel gates sat a sign, woven in blackened metal:


The Eris Latombe Orphanage of Nashal


The orphanage was empty.



####



It was bedtime, and Manni was missing again. The search party had grown; they were four-strong now, with the addition of Bramble, a thigh-high 6-year-old from Drall. She trailed at the back of the group, clinging to Jinn's sleeve, wide-eyed and floofy, fresh from her bed. Ireen led the way in pink slippers, flanked by Derik, a Nikto boy who walked like he was smuggling watermelons under his arms. They had checked under ever bed and inside every trunk, they investigated the toy chest and the boy's bathroom, and were on their way, at last, to the girl's bathroom, where, Ireen suspected, they would find the mischievous little Devaronian. The door hissed open, unfurling a column of light across the hospital ward. Derik flushed, and retreated from the threshold, as if the tiled floor would burn his feet. Instead, he elected to stand guard outside, rigid like a statue.

Just as she was about to step inside, Ireen noticed something moving in the gloom, a great mass rose, taking the shape of a hulking ghost, fashioned out of bedsheets. It moaned and it howled as it closed in; Derek gasped and Bramble shrieked, attaching herself to Ireen's leg. Jinn, on the other hand, was not so easily scared: stomping forth, she socked a fist deep inside the mountain of sheets, and it crumbled.

"You idiots!" she said, to the slowly shifting mound, "You scared Bramble half to death!"

From beneath the bedsheets appeared a dazed Devaronian and a rather bedraggled Wookiee. Unclamping herself from Ireen's leg, Bramble sucked in a shocked breath, "Lewie!"

"Braccaloo, I am surprised at you." Ireen chased away her amusement, and put on her best disappointed voice; the lanky Wookiee wilted a few inches. He muffled an apology to Bramble, and rubbed at his belly, sore, no doubt, from Jinn's swift justice.

"Aw, don't be hard on him, Miss! It was all my idea!" There was something about Manni's protestations that suggested he cared more about his share of the credit than Braccaloo's share of the blame. Braccaloo, too, sensed he was being short-changed, and growled an objection. Manni was having none of it, "No way! I'm the brains of this outfit. You're just the muscle, Bra!"

"That's enough. Both of you to bed, now. We'll... talk about this in the morning."

Faltering though it was, the edge in Ireen's voice cut through the dispute, silencing the boys, who gathered up their sheets and trudged off to bed. Bramble climbed into bed with Jinn, resembling a real-life teddy bear when snuggled up to her Twi'lek bedfellow. Jinn told her the story of the Ewok Princess while Derik escorted Ireen to the exit, because he insisted.

"Miss," he began, tentatively, "When will Sualee be back?"

"When she's better, Derik. Sualee is very ill right now."

"She will get better, right?"

"I'm sure she will, Derik. In time."

"But-"

"Okay, I'm safely at the door now!" Ireen declared with agonising brightness, "Thank you, Derik, for being such a brave escort."

"Bodyguard, Miss. I'm your bodyguard."

"You totally are. Now, off to bed."

Derik beamed and scuttled off, "Goodnight, Miss!"

"Goodnight."

Ireen slipped through the door and watched as the maglocks clamped into place. One. Two. Three. On a panel beside the door, she prodded a six-digit key code, and waited for the lights on the locks to turn from green to red. Satisfied, she proceded down the long white corridor with the Imperial officer who had been waiting for her. They walked in silence, footsteps ringing into the distance, where the walls appeared to shrink before them. She hated the place: the lighting was stale, there was a tang of metal in the air, and she hadn't seen the sun in weeks.

A technician fell into step alongside them and she started to change. First to go were the fluffy slippers, replaced by a pair of flat white pumps; the dressing gown fell away to reveal a set of clean blue scrubs, which she draped in a long white coat; next came the hairnet, name badge, mask and gloves. When she was handed a clipboard, she left both the officer and the technician without a word, and passed through two pairs of guarded doors.

The theatre was large and round, like the colliseums of old, except, where there once might have been tiered terraces of roaring spectators, there were high walls and darkened windows. And, in the centre, in place of a gladiator there was a child. A Rodian child, lying face-down on an operating table; her green scaly skin shimmered like jade in the spotlight. She was accompanied by a robust medical droid.

"Is the subject prepped?" said Ireen.

"Affirmative. Subject Three is sedated and ready for the procedure, ma'am."

"Good." Her voice was not her own, strangled as it was by the mask. Every breath was an effort, pounding like hammer blows in her ears: haww-paah haww-paah. She stared hard at the monitors until they came into focus.

"Ma'am, before we continue, I must remind you that - based on my calculations - Subject Three has a 16.2% chance of survival."

Ireen looked up over the monitors at the Rodian girl, and the spiked pipes glistening dangerously above, and up again, at the darkened windows, and the shapes that moved behind them. She sucked in another breath: haww-paah.

"Do it."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She sat in perfect stillness, the only light in her room coming from the multicolored sworls of hyperspace outside the window. She had made it a habit to meditate every day to ensure her mind was clear. A vestige of a horned demon faded in and out, and she banished it with a thought.

The door chimed, and De'Ville reluctantly opened her eyes. "Come."

Jeng poked his head inside, and then the rest of him followed. He had his helmet tucked under his arm. "Mand'alor," they still insisted on the title, "There is a result on the search you asked for."

"Good," she said, uncrossing her legs and pushing herself up from the floor. She paused, and took a moment to stretch cramped muscles. Perhaps today's session had been too long. The blond Mandalorian handed over a datapad, looking around the room for threats as he did so. "Thank you." She scanned the pad as the door swished shut behind him, and walked over to her desk and keyed the comm.

"Akasha, find Kei and meet me in the ready room." A conference room off of the bridge of the Aranar, it would do for her purposes. She looked down at the datapad with unfocused eyes, her fingers tapping idly on the screen, and then she called up Zereth Lancer, giving him instructions to join them. De'Ville sat down, pulled on her boots, and walked out of her room with purpose.

[Akasha Khan]

Akasha Khan reclined across a beaten vinyl couch in what passed for a recreation deck aboard the Aranar - just enough room for a couple dejarik tables, a sunken lounge, and a holoscreen, all of which could be cleared for action at a moment's notice to access one of the frigate's six turbolaser batteries. On her lap lay her beloved lightstaff, brushed a matte black and unadorned so it wouldn't gleam in the shadows. She had already dismantled and cleaned both emitter arrays and was just replacing the blade shrouds when her feline ears twitched at Master De'Ville's voice over the comm.

"On my way."

The sleek, black Orryxian rolled to her feet, slipped her completed lightstaff back into its holster across the small of her back, and padded onto the broad action deck that ran the length of the frigate. After nearly a year of living as an apex predator on the Ossian frontier, she didn't relish the idea of returning to life aboard a starship, all bland metal corridors and recycled air and nothing to eat that wasn't frozen, reconstituted, or irradiated. But she'd decided that was a small price to pay for returning to her master's side, completing her training in the Dark Side of the Force, and finally realizing the glory and power that had been promised her what now seemed like a lifetime ago.

So of course her master had summoned her for a temporary furlough from her assignment with the Jedi, only to introduce her to her feckless new whelp of an apprentice. Akasha's hackles rose unbidden as she stalked her way across the deck to the cargo bay which had been repurposed as a sparring chamber. Inside, she found Kei Durall exchanging blows with a tall, gray-haired Mandalorian woman who offered encouragement and criticism with equal dispassion in her low, gruff voice. Akasha bared her fangs in a grin. If Granoi was involved, at least she could be certain Kei wasn't being coddled.

"Kei!" Akasha shouted from the doorway. "Master De'Ville wants us."

[Kei Durall]

"Don't let your guard down!" The mandolorian shouted in her lower voice as she brought Kei down with an open palm to his face. Kei fell to the floor, but only momentarily. He jumped back to his feet and returned a blow that landed on her right shoulder. His fighting had improved much since he started his training, which wasn't saying much since he didn't know much to begin with. Yet he was at a point where he wasn't getting knocked flat on his back every blow that came his way. The few mandolorians he had been sparring with respected the fact that he was no quitter, and that he kept getting up. They told him it was a good quality for a fighter, even one so inexperienced.

The sparring stopped as Akasha shouted for him from the doorway. "We will resume this when you return." The Mando woman stated and left to tend to other business. Kei grabbed his towel and wiped the sweat from his face before moving towards Akasha. He knew little of this feline who was an apprentice of Lilaena before him. Only having greeted briefly on her arrival on the Aranor.

"Lets go" Kei spoke, as he walked past Akasha leading the way to the ready room.

[Zereth Lancer]

Inside the maintenance closet a man sat, cross-legged, and levitating several feet off the ground; a book held in one hand while the other occasionally turned a page. Finding peace and solace aboard the Aranar was sometimes a futile endeavor. Between the many Mandalorians and the ever expanding cadre of force adepts the ship was becoming increasingly cramped. Zereth would much rather sit aboard his own ship, in the space he had created for himself, but while traveling through hyperspace he preferred to make himself available in case Lilaeana required him. There were spaces for meditating and training, as well as recreation, on board this ship, and he despised them all. He was no so anti-social that he could not stand the presence of others, but he occasionally needed respite from others and the counsel of himself.

The comm at his waist chimed, and the request came through. Licking a finger, he turned another page, and continued to read for a few more moments before he slipped a scrap of paper into place and closed the cover of the fictional novel. An alternate present day where everything was powered by steam and mechanical gears was shut away. On the utility shelf beside him a collection of more serious subjects could be found, but now and again he needed respite even from his own goals. The advancement of his own powers and abilities could wait a few hours while he relaxed his mind and body.

He was not far from the ready room, and took his time walking the distance. Without his big cloak he appeared a much smaller man; all tight muscles and grimaces. The simple black tunic drew a sharp comparison to his pale skin and with his long, sharp hair tied up in a topknot there was nothing to obstruct his red mottled eyes.

Perhaps he dawdled too long. By the time he arrived both of Lilaena's apprentices were already present; the new boy with the attitude and lack of care that annoyed Zereth, and the shadowy felinoid of which Zereth knew very little but suspected her to be a sneak that needed to be watched. Without a word he took a seat, clasping his hands on the table in front of him and looking Lilaena in the face. Whatever she had called them for it had to be important, and that meant she had his full attention.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Akasha and Kei were settling in, each eyeing the other when they thought they weren't looking. Sizing each other up. Lilaena knew Akasha wasn't happy that there was a new apprentice on the scene, but there was little that could be done about that now. Rivalry would sharpen them both.

Once Zereth sat down De'Ville pressed the button on the holoprojector in the center of the table, displaying the Corellian system, planets arranged around their star in various orbits. "I have been following up on a rumor we heard out of Corellia - a pair of Force sensitives murdered in their beds. Such a crime did happen, but in the chaos of terrorism the planet has fallen into it is hard to say if it was a hate crime or just a home invasion gone wrong. I found that the child was taken to an orphanage on Talus," the projection zoomed in on the planet, and then a city on its surface, "specifically Nashal.

"A little digging and I realized that some of the other recent orphans were all the children of parents the Empire had flagged as Force adepts. We are en route to Talus to make sure these children are taken care of as they deserve."

To say she had a soft spot for children in bad situations would be understating it. De'Ville remembered her own upbringing vividly, even if it was no longer the fresh wound she'd carried with her so many years. The emotional scar tissue remained. "I feel this is more than a coincidence. Questions?"

[Akasha Khan]

"Yes. What aren't you telling us?"

Akasha stood with her arms folded and her eyes narrowed to venomous slits. Only her tail moved, swaying back and forth like an agitated cobra.

"You didn't summon me from Ossus just to pay a welfare visit. The Empire is doing something with these children, all right, that's obvious, but even if this is some sort of re-education camp, sending in the three of us seems like overkill."

Her eyes ticked to her left, and she added, "All right, the three of us and Kei."

[Kei Durall]

Kei cocked his head to the side at her comment. A frown came across his face before he could stop himself. If Akasha was looking to get a reaction from him, she succeeded. He held Akasha's eye for a moment, and before Lilaena could answer Akasha's questions, Kei jumped in, "I share the concerns of our 'temporary' resident feline. What more is it that you haven't told us that you think is going on? And if it is something a bit more dangerous, would I just... be in the way?" He knew that in comparison to those present in the room, he was an amateur in just about everything, though his telekinesis was coming along. Still, there was nothing more that he wanted then to prove Akasha wrong. Show that he was more useful than she thought.

[Zereth Lancer]

"I agree, we should investigate." Zereth's reply completely ignored the concerns of his fellows that Lilaena was hiding something. Perhaps she was. It was not his place to question in this situation. There was a very clear issue presented and instead of arguing politics or angles, of who benefits from what, they should be more concerned with the gross loss of life and the potential horror being inflicted upon those children. The Empire had a great affinity for harm and destruction. Anything even resembling a forced extinction of force gifted adults and kidnapping of children should have their full attention.

"Are we going to investigate publicly, knock on the front door and ask for a tour, or kick the door down? Should a more backdoor approach be the preference, we may want to leave Kei behind. No offense." He nodded to the young apprentice. "This is extremely dangerous and we cannot risk getting caught behind enemy lines. The Empire will put it's jackboots to us in a heartbeat. We should only bring those who can fend for themselves should the worst happen."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She let them talk, and then held up a hand. "You are right Akasha. I am keeping something from you. A few years ago I uncovered (http://theholo.net/forum/showthread.php?15768-The-Nightmares-of-Corruption-Pt-2) an Imperial laboratory on Coruscant - one that was hidden deep in the Underground. They were ...experimenting on Force sensitive children." De'Ville's lip curled in distaste at the memory.

"We destroyed the lab and everyone inside it, but I later learned that the scientist in charge of the project had not been there that day. He avoided judgement...and this orphanage in Nashal has his name on the board of directors.

"A cautious approach is best. We do not want them to scuttle their plans and escape if we tip our hands early." Lilaena looked at Kei. "I am leaving you here to continue to train in combat with the Mandos."

[Ireen Cole]

The machines loomed high over the bed, hissing and chittering. There were wires, and glossy pipes that pulsated, hanging like a spider's web or a maniac's dreamcatcher. The lights were low and the walls, grey; and in the darkest recesses, where shadows towered like columns, the watchers watched.

During the Clone Wars, a Separatist ship crash landed on the Noghri homeworld, and leaked its toxic cargo into the water. The resulting ecological disaster forced the Noghri to flee their homes, as every manner of flora and fauna withered and died around them. Honoghr remains to this day a wasteland; a cesspit of toxic marshlands, fetid swamps, and barren earth. From orbit, it resembled a bucket of diseased waste: swabs of browns and pallid yellows, and weak watery greens. It was the colour of life succumbing to death. That was what she was reminded of when she saw Sualee in her bed.

She looked tiny. The bed was a white slab, built for occupants five times her size, and the sheets were pristine and smooth. Its occupant was, by contrast, a mottled mess that glistened in the gloom. Her shallow chest rose and fell with the pumping and hissing of valves. Her eyes were closed, her limbs were still; she was, for all intents and purposes, dead to the world. The only sign of life was her pulse: recorded by probes and reproduced like a blip on a radar. Ireen sat and took her hand.

"Hey. It's me again. I just... wanted to let you know... how everyone's doing."

She winced at her words. If that marked the height of her conversational fluency when her companion was comatose, then she was truly doomed. In her hands, Sualee's fingers felt crisp like snakeskin. She reminded herself to smile and continued, brightly.

"The gang misses you. We all miss you, of course. Derik especially." Here, Ireen leaned in, and muttered out of the corner of her mouth, "You know, I think someone has a crush. And if you don't get well soon, girl, I'm gonna have to steal your man."

She consoled Sualee with a gentle pat on the hand, "Just kidding, of course. It would never work between us. Derik is far too possessive."

While she spoke, her eyes dared a glance into the darkened corners of the room. Staring back at her were four glass screens, each comprising eighteen hexagonal pieces; as black as the shadows in which they lurked, they watched like the disembodied eyes of insects. She stiffened in her seat and returned her attention to Sualee. It was nice to think of her as Sualee again, even if it was wishful thinking.

"Jinn has been teaching Bramble our secret handshake. And I think Manni is trying to charm it out of her - he says its gender discrimination. Oh, and did I mention we've been working on a patchwork quilt for you? It. Looks. Awesome! Lewie wanted to donate a square of his fur to the cause, which was sweet, but also a bit gross. I politely declined on your behalf. Of course, this is all strictly confidential, so you've got to promise me: when you see it, be surprised!"

From her breast pocket there came a buzz that shook her heart inside her chest. Ireen's breath caught in her throat as she fished out the tiny communicator. She fumbled, turning it in trembling fingers until the green light caught her eyes:

Choose your subject.

She closed her eyes but it was no use. The message was always the same. And the words had become branded onto her retinas so she could read them even in her sleep. The words burned like tears. Horrified, she turned away from the watchers and leaned over Sualee. No. Subject Three. She placed a hand on her forehead. Cold. She peeled back a bulbous eyelid and found herself staring into a sky of stars reflected on the ocean. They were the most beautiful eyes.

From her lips, the words trickled like grains of sand, "I will get you out of here. Just... wake up. Please wake up."

[Akasha Khan]

The orphanage was on the outskirts of the city, skirted on three sides by thick stands of pine trees that sheltered it from view of the few rickety homesteads dotting the mountain road. Nashal was a was a glimmering diorama of lighted streets and strange, dome-and-pyramid architecture in the river valley below, a gaudy imposition on the gothic tranquility of the grounds.

Well, perhaps more moribund than tranquil. Akasha had been watching the place for thirty minutes now and hadn't seen, heard, or smelled so much as a rodent stirring in the lawn. Not that she expected to see anyone playing in the grass at night, but humanoid children were stinky abominations who left their filth in trails behind them like slime off a Hutt's tail. No orphans had run through the orphanage grounds in months.

Akasha took one more gander at the lighted windows of the orphanage through her macrobinoculars, then handed them off to the armored Mandalorian girl standing next to her in the cover of the pines. "Still nothing," the Orryxian said into her wrist comm. "How much longer are we going to wait?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"Patience, Akasha." Lilaena gently chided her apprentice. "It's only been half an hour. From what we heard from the neighbors, the delivery truck arrives infrequently. Maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow."

The fact that the orphanage was obviously empty, while the data she'd sliced suggested there should be about fifteen children in residence, was not a good sign. Reports of deliveries being made (or perhaps things being transferred from the property?) to an empty building were promising.

Lilaena had felt something slippery in the Force when she extended her senses into the building. Jeng handed her the macrobinoculars, and she looked through them at the back of the orphanage property. Everything was perfectly maintained, and unused. A security droid was traveling the perimeter of the fence, the light in it's head slowly scanning from side to side in its path.

As far as security went, it was less than impressive. She handed the macros back to Jeng. For this outing she had left her armor in the ship, but all five of the Mando'ade who had come had full sets, including jet packs. She had had no intention of being caught unprepared, so alocytes had been her only choice. Except for the young one, Lanai, who Granoi had insisted she bring along. No one defied Granoi for long.

De'Ville lifted her commlink again. "Anything interesting to report, Zereth?"

[Zereth Lancer]

"The building is producing strange energy levels." Zereth crouched at the edge of the nearest rooftop to the Orphanage, a full spectrum scanner in his hands. To any watcher he appeared difficult to look at, the brain's naturally affinity to rebel against what it doesn't understand or that hurts it's rational would cause many to look away and forget they saw anything. Cloak in his illusions Zereth was relatively safe from observation and detection. He did not dare sneak too close. Droids and machines were not so easy to trick as sentient minds.

His mottled red eyes looked over the scanner in his hand. There was interference, either a signal jammer of some sort or a more natural buffer like layers of duracrete. "Considering how dark and empty the building appears, it should not be producing the equivalent of several domestic homes worth of energy, and that is just what I can detect for sure. There is no doubt something happening beneath the surface."

It was a troubling sign, and hopefully enough for them to act on. He was feeling antsy, ready to strike. It was against his more passive nature, but he feared there were children, force sensitive children, being horribly abused inside whatever macabre facility the Empire was running. Every moment that passed could be another horror visited upon an innocent soul. Every moment his blade went thirsty.

[Ireen Cole]

Supper was a one-two combo of homemade nuna broth and steamed vegetables with ghoba rice. The resident chef was a talented man, when he had the inclination. Fortunately, the children, who had emptied their plates with gusto, were yet to recognise the cruel correlation between a decent meal and the thinning of their numbers. Braccaloo even requested a second helping. He sat cross-legged on the floor, the others congregated around Bramble's bed; it was story time, and Ireen read from a new book called The Forest Children of Endor, while Braccaloo provided an unearthly soundtrack of snuffling, chewing, and lip-smacking. The story was about a group of orphans who crash-landed on Endor's moon, where they lived in the forest with Ewoks - Bramble loved Ewoks - they learned to fly, and swashbuckle, and they never grew up. Ireen was only halfway through the second chapter, when she felt Bramble nestling into her arm.

"It looks like this little Ewok has decided its bedtime." The murmur of uniform objection fell on deaf ears. Ireen untangled herself from Bramble and rose from the bed. When she fished a small tube of pills from her pocket, the room became as silent as a graveyard, "Don't look at me like that. Everyone has to take their medicine from time to time. Quickly, to your beds."

The children dispersed on leaden feet. Ireen turned to find Bramble sat upright in her bed, ready, with a glass of blue milk in her paws. A knife turned in her heart, forcing a pained smile to the surface. She placed a white pill on the little Drall's tongue and took the glass from her once it was empty. Her fur was the softest thing she had ever touched. Bramble was asleep before her light was out. If only the others were as compliant. Even Derik, who was normally putty in her hands, was reluctant to take his medicine.

"The last time we took our medicine, Sualee got sick. Isn't medicine supposed to make us feel better, Miss?"

"Some medicine makes you feel better, Derik. Some medicine we take for our own protection. Open up."

Jinn was deep in a sulk by the time Ireen arrived at her bedside. She folded wiry arms across her chest and stared holes at the door, as if by sheer force of will she could dispel Ireen from her presence. After a string of promises and some undignified bartering, Ireen got tough, "If you won't take your medicine from me, I'll have to call the doctor."

A flare of nostrils. Jinn stiffened with indignation, shook back her headtails, and plucked a pill from Ireen's hand. The pill was swallowed without water. Jinn buried herself into her pillow without a single word. Her teenage years would be murder, thought Ireen, somewhat hopefully. Braccaloo issued a throaty growl when it was his turn, and he looked away whenever Ireen got close, grunting objections. He was won over, in the end, by an empty promise of Bantha Surprise for dinner the next day. Water trickled down his chin fur as he took his pill, then with a great yowling yawn, he sunk happily into bed. Ireen decided she would need a long sonic shower after this experience.

When she arrived at Manni's bed, she was surprised to find him waiting, wearing a pleasant, albeit devilish, Devaronian smile. He was strangely compliant, and went as far as to make polite conversation while his medication was administered. His hammy gulp raised suspicion, however, and Ireen asked him to open his mouth - which he did with a sing-song "Aaahh." Ireen smiled in spite of herself and turned off the last of the bedside lights. She left the dormitory with a whisper of slippered feet.

"Miss Cole, I bring a message from Doctor O."

Lieutenant Culditz was waiting outside. He was a tall, slim, pale-skinned man, with pristine blonde hair and a neat moustache. When he spoke, his lips barely moved, and his words slithered over his teeth like a whisper. His appearance, as always, opened up a cold sinking hole in the pit of her stomach. The lieutenant served two functions: he escorted her to the operating theatre, and he delivered bad news. A message from Doctor O was invariably bad. And, as always, the lieutenant appeared to take no pleasure in his duty, but Ireen had her suspicions that beneath that stiff upper lip lurked a wet glistening grin. She waited for the maglocks to seal before acknowledging him.

"The doctor requests your presence. In his study. Immediately," the lieutenant afforded her all of a second to process his words, before he turned on his heel with a squeak of boot leather, "Follow me."

Fear set like duracrete inside her legs, forbidding them to move; the weight of it pulling her down, down, down. Doctor O. She blinked and saw the words as plain as if they were branded to the back of her eyelids: choose your subject. It took a hammer blow of anger to break herself free and pursue the lieutenant on uncertain feet. Her mouth was so dry she almost choked when she swallowed, "What does the doctor want?"

"I'm afraid I can't say," Lieutenant Culditz didn't even bother to look at her this time, instead he turned his attention to a key panel, and stepped aside when the turbolift door gasped open. He followed Ireen inside. The remainder of their time together was spent listening to the low turbolift hum, with Ireen boring holes into the back of the lieutenant's head with her eyes. You can't say or you don't know, you pompous bastard? By the time the lift stopped, she had scratched her forearm raw.

When the turbolift reopened, Culditz led the way, clicking a brisk pace over the hard grey floor. A pair of armed guards flanked a shielded door, they saluted with a clatter of armour as the lieutenant approached. Culditz plucked a keycard from his breast pocket and swiped it at the entrance; there was a whine as the wall of red shielding vanished, and the doors parted. Warm light spilled into the corridor and a gust of crisp sweet air rushed out to greeted them even before they were over the threshold. Once inside, Ireen gaped.

The study, for want of a better word, was a long white hall with a high ceiling; it housed a veritable jungle of exotic plants. They climbed the walls and spilled out in looming arches, all around they blossomed with explosions of vibrant colour and spilled over their tables in spiralling curtains of green. Overhead, two rows of fans circulated the air, which brushed the skin like a warm kiss. Ireen squinted and looked up. Where she expected to find windows, she saw large round spotlights that bathed the entire room in mock daylight. If there had been windows, she wondered what sight would've greeted her above: the sun or the moon. She was no longer sure.

Her tight-lipped escort negotiated a route through a web of thorned vines, making no concessions for his dawdling charge. When they stepped out from the shade of some large leafy canopies, the room opened up on either side, providing them with some much needed space. In the middle of the white tiled floor there was an antique desk made from dark varnished wood that was utterly at odds with the sterile greenhouse aesthetic of its surroundings. As they approached, Ireen saw there was an open file on the desk, and realised she had seen it before. Her heart started to stampede in her chest.

The lieutenant came to a stop with a sharp click of his boot heels, "Miss Ireen Cole, as requested, doctor."

"Oh!" The crow came from behind, freezing Ireen to the spot, "Just a minute, if I can find my way out of- nrgh! There we are."

The words were squeezed out between laboured breaths, and punctuated with feeble high-pitched grunts. There was an airy sort of rustling; Ireen dared to turn her head a fraction and saw out of the corner of her eye something small and white emerge from behind a large fern. It walked the periphery of the room on shuffling feet, wheezing all the way, and occasionally stopping to squirt something. When the doctor spoke again, Ireen couldn't help but notice an uncharacteristic downturn in the corner of the lieutenant's mouth, a grimace, like he had just caught the scent of something foul.

"Ireen Cole. Ireen Cole. University of Coronet. Graduated with distinction in molecular biology, xeno-genetics, and clone theory. Discovered the self-splicing toads of Aximia. Revolutionised the theory of interspecies genetic transferral. And then shit it all away on a frog-dog." What began as a throaty chuckle mutated into a violent hacking cough that echoed off the high walls. The lieutenant moved to assist but was stopped dead in his tracks by a croak, "Lieutenant Culditz. Leave us."

His small sphincter of a mouth sealed shut. Culditz retreated a step to his original position, pulled on the hem of his jacket, and turned. For the briefest instant, Ireen could feel those acid green eyes sweep over her with the smug satisfaction of some detention-dodging schoolboy. She listened to his clipped steps beating a retreat as fast as fast as decorum allowed. When she heard the whoosh of the door, she knew they were alone. Doctor O could be heard tending his plants, shuffling, squirting.

"Have you ever heard of the Alderaanian Coward?" He gave a grunt, and then there was a sharp shhtk, "It was a species of rose that grew only in the grasslands of Alderaan. Rare, now, for obvious reasons. A beautiful thing. The Coward was an uncommon flower that had one singularly effective defense against all the grazers and nerfs that would otherwise gobble it up: mimicry. You see, the Coward's petals were as pure and white as the snowy peaks, but when a grazer came along, they turned yellow. There was another flower that bloomed on the grasslands - an ugly wretched thing called Bilius Barbaricus - extremely toxic, a single bite would kill even the largest of herbivores. It had yellow petals."

Doctor Terrabeus O hobbled into view. He was a tiny, crooked old man with long mangled fingers and a bulbous head. Sad wisps of white hair stretched across his glistening crown and hung limply about his swollen ears. Every inch of his face was creased with wrinkles, which, when he smiled, warped and bunched around his eyes - his glossy, white, unseeing eyes. In gnarled grey fingers he held a single white rose. He held it aloft, and said, "By pretending to be something it is not, the Coward thrived where it would have otherwise failed, and been devoured. Take it."

Ireen reached out and took the rose with a trembling hand. And, sure enough, the moment she touched the stem, the white petals turned a diseased shade of yellow. She considered it for a moment, and when she spoke, there was only a slight tremor in her voice, "Normally, in nature, when something adapts to evade a predator, it's called survival."

The blind doctor frowned, staring, it seemed, at the yellow rose. "Curious. The Coward should only change colour when it senses a predator is nearby."

Ireen fed the rose into a button hole, and said, "I'm vegetarian."

Dr. O's face pulled itself into thin smile, "Sit. Please."

On the spot, he turned, and set off in earnest towards the far side of his desk, huffing with every misshapen step. Ireen allowed a long-held breath to escape and sunk into the padded leather chair. By the time Dr. O had climbed into his seat, there was a slick sheen of sweat glistening on his brow. He didn't acknowledge Ireen to begin with, instead he reshuffled the flimsi on his desk, and divided them into two neat piles. Atop each pile there was a picture, one of a silver-haired man in uniform, the other of a bald man in a suit. Ireen's fingers clamped the arms of her chair in a vice grip.

"Ah!" On the table, there was an ornate silver bowl with a glass dome; Dr. O appeared to have only just noticed it. Something was moving inside, something shiny, and dark. He leaned across, lifted the dome and, with surprising speed, snatched. It wriggled in his deformed claw; tiny black legs, thorny pincers, desperately thrumming wings, "The Tarisian bark beetle is believed to be extinct. Cherished as a delicacy on Hutta, the bark beetle is said to produce an enzyme that counteracts the ageing process. Did you know the average lifespan of a Hutt is a thousand years?"

Eyes wide, the doctor bit the beetle in half with a crunch, and chewed noisily. Ireen's insides twitched. The second half was eaten as an afterthought. When he was done, the doctor leaned back in his chair and turned his milky gaze on the back of the room, "I am a hundred and six years old, Miss Cole. We do what we can to survive. Now, tell me about Subject Three."

"Extensive damage to the nervous system. Minimal brain activity. The subject is comatose, but alive."

"An intriguing development. I had wondered if Subject Three's survival was a result of your painstaking research, or simply a fortunate by-product of a Rodian's physiology. How is your arm?"

"My-" Ireen looked down, and gasped. There was blood on her fingers and angry red scratches down the length of her forearm. Clearly, her nerves were in tatters. The doctor's mouth curved like a scimitar, revealing a wall of chunky dentures. "How did you-"

"The manipulation of midi-chlorians inside living organisms is uncharted territory in official scientific circles. Being a pioneer in one's field of research comes at a cost, and not without its fair share of risks. You must question your findings at every turn. I am unconvinced by your faltering success with Subject Three. Repeat the procedure with a new test subject - not the Twi'lek, certainly not that Nikto creature - a species far removed from the Rodian. Like a Drall, for example."

Just as the fresh wave of nausea reached its crest, it froze inside Ireen like a great rampart of ice, "No."

"Miss Cole, you embarrass yourself," Dr. O made a lazy stretch for a flimsi, "Captain Marti Cole, fifty-six, of the Corellian Security Force. A storied and decorated career. A family man, I see. Married to a Ged Cole, professor of computer science, Corellia University."

"You can stop right there." Ireen was on her feet, hands balled like rocks. "If you think I'm going to let you threaten my family-"

"I'm not going to threaten your family, Miss Cole. I'm going to destroy them. You see, it turns out the mild-mannered university professor was in fact a cyber terrorist who sold secrets to Her Majesty's enemies. He will be executed as a traitor. And the good captain? He will be sent to the spice mines of Kessel for abusing young offenders. I will see his faggot ass ripped open by a Herglic and broadcast it live on the Holonet, you ungrateful whore!" The doctor was perched on crumpled hands, a string of saliva dangling from the corner of his mouth, "Now, choose your subject."

Ireen sat. On all sides, the chair seemed to consume her. If she was shrinking, perhaps she would disappear. High above, the beating fans gave the silence a pulse. It was sacred, the silence; unsullied for as long as she held her tongue. But a choice had to be made, and every time she made it, she gave up a piece of herself. There was so little left to give. She closed her eyes.

"The wookiee is healthy and strong. His advanced age and size will increase his chances for survival."

"The wookiee," the doctor repeated, she could hear him smiling. There was a click, "Lieutenant Culditz, have your men collect the wookiee. It must be shaved and prepped for surgery within the hour."

"Right away, doctor," the lieutenant's voice buzzed through the comm.

Once again, Ireen was standing, compelled by some impossible strength. The urgency of the moment constricted her throat like a durasteel vice, throttling hollow words to the surface, "I will oversee the transfer of Subject Four. The integrity of the experiment will be compromised if the test subject is rough-handled."

Dr. O scoffed, and reached for another beetle, "The mother must tend to her brood. Go."

Taking a page out of the lieutenant's book, Ireen walked like she was trying to puncture the floor. As she passed the guards outside, every step felt like an exercise in restraint, clacking diligently all the way to the lift. Time operated differently inside turbolifts. Ireen hammered buttons with her fist and clawed at a fresh itch on her neck: an insect bite from Dr. O's so-called study, no doubt. Probably the first of many. When the lift finally opened, all pretense was abandoned as Ireen sprinted to the dormitory. The door was already open when she arrived, which meant only one thing.

In the dimly lit expanse, she saw them standing like great white sentinels at the foot of the bed. With eyes like beetle shells and angry snarling frowns, the stormtroopers exchanged silent gestures, then moved in. Lieutenant Culditz was standing just inside the room. He found himself knocked sideways as Ireen barged past, and hissed orders at his men. Another pair of troopers emerged from the shadows and reached for the intruder, but what they failed to realise was that they were standing in her dormitory, and she was Miss Cole, and her authority was unmatched.

"If the test subject suffers so much as a scuff from your manhandling, I will be holding you personally responsible if it perishes on the slab." One of the troopers turned a ghastly white face on her, but she was undaunted. Hands on hips, she added, "Do you have a million credits to reimburse the board of scientific research?"

It didn't matter that there was no board of scientific research funding the facility: it worked. The stormtroopers gave her space to oversee the transfer of... of Subject Four, and were gentle in turning back the bedsheets, and easing the slumbering mound of fur upright in its bed. Braccaloo yawned, and rubbed his eyes. Ireen clapped a hand over her mouth and gasped. The sedative had worn off. Everything happened so fast: the troopers seized the young wookiee under the arms and hoisted him out of bed, and Lewie, still sleepy, gave a confused groan. It wasn't until his heavy footpaws hit the cold floor, that he started to struggle in earnest, yowling in alarm. His eyes were round with fright as he tugged and kicked at the large armoured men, and when his gaze finally fell upon Ireen, it hit like a superlaser.

"It's alright, Lewie," she said, her voice cracking and hoarse, "Don't be afraid."

That was the worst part, the flicker of realisation in his eyes, as the facade of the lovely Miss Cole came crashing down around her. She wished she'd given him two pills. She wished she'd given him a hundred pills. Even as he was dragged past, howling, pleading, she heard herself lie, "Everything is going to be just fine. I promise, Lewie."

"Lewie?" Manni was sitting up in his bed, squinting into the darkness. Lewie's frightful bark had him out of bed in an instant, as wide awake as he had been when she had last seen him. Her suspicions were confirmed: he had never taken that pill in the first place. He saw the struggling shapes and cried out, "Lewie!"

Roused by the sound of reinforcements, Lewie roared, and cast one of his handlers to the floor. The futility of his resistance was crystallised by the thunder of boots, as the second pair of stormtroopers charged into the fray. Shadows scuffled, silhouetted in the doorway. Lieutenant Culditz watched, with perfect ambivalence, as his men took a limb each and lifted Lewie, writhing, into the air. Ireen, who had buried her face in her hands, started when she felt a small tug at the sleeve of her jacket.

"Miss! They're taking Lewie, Miss! Help him!" For all his pleading, Manni found himself restrained, firmly, by the shoulders. He fought when Ireen attempted to turn him away from the awful sight, and when Lewie gave one last despairing howl, he stamped on her foot and broke free. "Lewie! No! Get your hands off my-"

Even by the faint light, Ireen saw it coming. The barrel of the lieutenant's blaster pistol struck Manni's jaw with a crack. She reached out as she ran, as if she could somehow intervene, and beat gravity to the punch. But the scrawny Devaronian crumpled in a heap. Still, she ran. And like some wild thing, she drew back a clawed hand and stripped the skin from the lieutenant's face in four angry trenches. Another howl rent the air. Ireen lunged, this time for his throat, but instead, she fell as limp as a stuffed doll. The flash of blue light had sapped her of everything she had left. She clutched feebly at his crisp Imperial blues as she went down. The last thing she saw was a black polished boot - the boot she had lived under for so long - and with her last conscious breath, she spat on it.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena was pressing the earbud of her commlink to tell Akasha no, she couldn't go get some stakeout takeout, when the Force rent itself with a slash of terror. All that came through the 'link to her companions was a faint gasp. She managed to pull her hand from her ear, the sense of fear growing faint, but it had definitely come from the darkened building they were watching.

She activated the comm again, the transmission to their whole group. "Something is happening inside. I felt their fear. Akasha, take Lanai and find entrance on the second floor. Avoid the perimeter droid. Jeng, three acolytes to the roof and make your way down from there, leave one up to keep watch. Zereth, place a charge so we can cut the power if we need to, and meet me inside." There were probably redundant systems in place, but they could take care of those when they located them.

"Enter quietly, but quickly." She was already moving, two acolytes following her as she raced to the wall that surrounded the property. Lilaena grabbed at the brick, fingertips gaining traction as the Force fueled her vault up the surface and then over the top. The Mando'ade used their jet packs sparingly, just enough to gain the height needed to go over the wall. The other three were waiting for the others to breach before they flew for the roof. Whatever element of surprise they had would last until the first member of their group crossed the threshold.

[Akasha Khan]

Akasha didn't need to be told twice. She waited as the perimeter droid scudded by the fence, its search beam misty and blinding on the cool night air, and then plunged ahead on all fours with Lanai running silently alongside her. She cleared the four-meter fence in a single leap and hit the lawn on the other side in stride -

Danger!

In her mind's eye, the Orryxian saw her left paw split to the wrist and spurting gouts of blood into the grass. She twisted herself onto her right side, out of the path of gruesome dismemberment, and tumbled in the wet turf, landing on her feet just in time to raise a staying paw to stop Lanai, who'd just lighted beside her, jetpack puffing. The Mandalorian girl crouched beside Akasha, a questioning look behind her visor. "Vod'ika?"

Akasha's night-trained eyes narrowed, urgently scanning the lawn before her, and then she swiped at the air with her claws. The Force surged forth in a whisper-thin, scything arc, and with a sound like snapping harpstrings, a dozen or so glistening wires, gossamer-thin, curled up from their anchor points at ankle-height, just below the tops of the grass. Microfilaments - strong as durasteel, sharp as vibroblades, more than capable of shearing through a careless boot sole and straight through flesh and bone.

Curling her lip, Akasha tapped her earpiece and hissed, "Watch for wire traps in the grass."

She picked her way more deliberately now, leaping at intervals over additional traps, with Lanai following carefully in her footsteps. The delay meant she was in danger of the next sentry droid as she approached the orphanage wall. Rather than rush her approach to the second-story window she'd been aiming for, she bunched herself up like a spring and leapt straight up to the steeply gabled eaves of the roof overhead. Lanai read her instincts well and rocket-jumped with equal grace to a perch just above her, and both flattened themselves against the shingles as the second droid's search beams swept harmlessly by, leaving them in shadows.

No time to waste now. Akasha moved spiderlike from the eaves to the window and, perched with impeccable balance on the outer sill, traced a rectangle in the glass with her claws. The glass split cleanly and fell inward, buoyed by the Force before it could shatter on the floor inside, and Akasha tumbled through the aperture into a darkened dormitory. Lanai spilled through a moment later, expertly sweeping the corners with her blaster carbine.

But there was no need. Akasha slowly rose to her feet to find a room full of empty bedframes and broken shelves. Her feet shuffled through piles of dust accumulated from years of neglect. All was quiet as the grave.

Akasha touched her earpiece again and whispered, "We're in. There's... nothing. No one's been in here for ages."

[Zereth Lancer]

Adjusting the setting on the full spectrum scanner, Zereth pinpointed the general location of the exterior powerline. It was located on the side of the building, likely in a large shielded box to protect it from the very kind of damage he wished to inflict in it. Slipping the scanner into a pocket, he moved back from the edge of the building, got a running start, and threw himself over the edge. With the force as his guide, he soared the distance between the rooftop and the property wall; dropping on it in such a fashion that his hands clasped the edge and his feet propped him up against it's outside surface. The impact was graceful and the noise muffled despite the distance he just crossed.

Pulling himself effortlessly up on top of the wall he crouched at the edge, looking out at the expanse between the wall and the orphanage structure itself, and the droids sweeping in between. He was just about to leap down and cross over when Akasha's warning passed through his earpiece. Peering more closely at the grass he could make out the occasional dew-like glisten of the filaments. However, they were few and far in between. There had to be more. The droid was coming back. He dropped back over the back of the wall again, waiting for the droid to pass. When it did he returned to his perch and made note of the path the droid walked. Tensing up he gathered the force again and jumped.

Soaring once again he landed in a patch of the grass the droid had just vacated. He landed, checked the ground, and found himself in a safe patch with the wire blades to his front and back. Another jump cleared the rest of the lawn and allowed him to pull himself up on to the rooftop. Staying low, his illusions still wrapped about him, he quickly crept around the corner and looked over the side. There it was, a large metal box on the side of the building. Just like he guessed. That's where the city power entered. Slipping over the edge he dangled upside down, the metal tips of his boots hooked in the roof gutter. Using a throwing knife as leverage he pried open the access panel. A shaped demolition charge was withdrawn from a belt pouch and pressed up against the system inside. The trasmitted was wired in and snaked outside of the box so that the door could be shut and the signal still received.

"Demo charge in place." Zereth whispered while pressing his earpiece before pulling himself back up to the rooftop. Snaking along it's length, he moved to join Lilaena inside.

[Ireen Cole]

There was a beeping sound. Somewhere on the periphery of her muddled thoughts, it surfaced, low, steady, and inquisitive. From time to time, the answer came in the form of a sharp affirmative blip, other times, an exasperated sigh. Heavy lids peeled back to the sight of a dimly lit room, with knots of pipes and wires hanging overhead, and machines looming on either side, lights winking through the gloom. When she tried to turn her head, it felt like a blaster bolt shooting up her spine, into her brain. She winced as red pinpricks of light danced across her field of view. Another sigh, and the rush of cool air drew her attention to the mask strapped to her face. A thrill of horror: she was on the slab.

Her wrists were bound tightly to the bed, her ankles, too. She fought, rocking from side to side, shrieking at the explosions of pain behind her eyes. Metal rattled, cables whipped, and bedsheets gasped in the struggle. In the end, it was too much. The thick mask mocked her tears, choking sobs into silence. She was scared and alone, but what completed her misery was the total sense of betrayal: it pierced like a blade and festered like a wound in her heart. Stinging eyes squeezed shut.

Why?

Another futile struggle against her biting bonds was met with a frustrated hiss. She was not on the slab - not anymore. The damage was already done. She had been violated and abandoned. The itching was becoming unbearable; the length of her right arm was covered in a sheen of dry scaly skin, and her neck was stiff from the same unnatural carapace. She wanted nothing more than to strip the abomination from her flesh, but her hands were bound. A cry was expelled as her body convulsed against its restraints, writhing, burning, bleeding. She did not deserve it. She was a good girl. She did not deserve it.

Clutching at her last shred of liberty, she screamed. Bitterness, disappointment, rage; every dormant feeling came bubbling to the surface in a volcanic eruption of emotion. She screamed like she could breathe fire, and it burned like fire, purging her clean. And with an almighty crash, every towering machine was scattered, careening against the walls in fantastic showers of sparks. In front of her, a door opened, spilling blinding light into the room. There were footsteps, the clunking of armour, and a familiar click.

“I don’t believe it. She’s awake,” buzzed one voice.

“Jeez! What’s wrong with her eyes?” buzzed another.

“I don’t know. Let's contact the doc… tor…”

As her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw the stormtroopers drop their weapons and start to claw feebly at their throats. There was a sharp snap as her binding broke. She raised a single sucker-tipped hand and reached out, lifting the stormtroopers into the air, gasping and wheezing. They would know her wrath. They would all know her wrath. She was powerless no more.

Ireen woke with a start. She was in her room, lying on a tangled mess of bed sheets. Her heart was racing, her skin was slick with icy sweat, and her head throbbed. Scoff, her pet frog-dog, was curled up on her feet. He stirred when he heard her panting, and shuffled close for a warty nuzzle. Ireen placed a hand on his bulbous head, and took a bracing breath.

“We gotta get out of here, buddy. Now.”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena reached the side of the building and pressed herself against the cold brick next to the side door as Aang made short work of the locking mechanism. The door slid aside and she caught a glimpse of the remaining three acolytes as they soared up and overhead to the roof.

"We're in. There's... nothing. No one's been in here for ages."

Lightsaber in hand but not activated, Lilaena found herself in a large kitchen. It looked like it had been abandoned in a hurry, pots haphazardly put away, a ladle on the floor. She stepped over the utensil, her boots making footprints in the dust, Aang and Choruk spreading out to the sides as the door closed quietly behind them.

"Demo charge in place."

"Look for anything weird," she said into the comm. "Anything...more weird." Lilaena walked slowly through the kitchen, senses open and searching for the clues she knew must be there. Beyond the kitchen was a small cafeteria, chairs placed upside down on top of three rows of tables. The dust seemed undisturbed. The fear she'd sensed before was gone, but surely there was remnant... a trace of something.

"Mand'alor." Aang put a gloved hand out, and she stopped shy of the door they were headed toward. Without her Mandalorian armor she did not have the advantage of the HUD they were utilizing. Choruk pressed the door control and it slid open with a jerk. Overhead, Lilaena could sense Akasha and Lanai as they moved around, and as the acolyte stepped into the hall he was suddenly illuminated in red light.

"Droid!" he yelled, arm coming up and blaster firing as he threw himself backward. A Z-58-0 (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Z-58-0) droid hummed down the hallway toward them, and Lilaena's lightsaber snap-hissed to life, deflecting a blaster bolt that came her way as the ground beneath her feet lit up with terror and fury. The strong and muddled mix of emotion was definitely coming from somewhere underneath the floor - she looked down, distracted, and Aang shoved her to the side as another droid hovered around the corner behind them, optics glaring red and weapons firing. A blaster bolt caught him in the chest, burning his armor black but leaving him unharmed as they both stumbled to the side.

Choruk activated his jetpack and zipped down the hallway, slamming into the first droid and knocking it out of the air momentarily. Reversing course he flew back to Lilaena and Aang, and she covered her head as the security droid exploded from the microcharge he'd planted on it.

[Akasha Khan]

The blast rattled the floorboards and sent clouds of dust pinwheeling up from every surface in the dormitory. Akasha squeezed her eyes and nose shut against the particulate filth and bounded for the door, Lanai hard on her heels, and they burst out together into the upstairs corridor.

"Behind you!" Lanai cried, and Akasha wheeled and ignited half her lightstaff in time to deflect a pair of incoming blaster bolts from another floating security droid. Lanai worried it with a few screaming bolts from her blaster carbine, which kept the droid busy while Akasha gathered a flaming orb of Destruction in her free paw. The hissing fireball struck the droid's center of mass and littered the floor with scraps of smoldering metal.

The Orryxian and Mandalorian scanned the corridor up and down, kicked their way into three more abandoned rooms, then cautiously migrated their way downstairs to where their comrades were mustering.

"Master De'Ville," Akasha said, "the second level is secure. Whatever's going on here, it must be beneath us."

She glanced down at the floor just outside the kitchen, where the carcass of another security droid lay shattered and smoldering. "Also, I think they know we're here."

[Zereth Lancer]

Even as he neared the edge of the rooftop that hung just above the doorway, he could hear the scuffle coming from within. The perimeter droid stopped in it's tracked, turned about, and headed back toward the door. His previously sweeping light was now red and focused, heading straight for the door. It was unprepared for Zereth's sudden attack as he dropped from the parapet, his lightsabre snap-hissing to life as he fell, bring it down in an overhead swing that cut the droid from head to pelvis, leaving a glowing trial that burned for a moment before cooling gray, just as each side of the droid fell to either side.

Something moved in the grass, and Zereth squinted his eyes and raised his sabre to better illuminate what appeared to be two hatches hidden in the grass opening up, and a pair of floating droids appearing from within. Immediately they powered up shimmering energy shields and opened fire, putting Zereth on the defensive as he dodged the fire from one and redirected the other's back at it with his lightsabre; all the while back peddling through the open front door. Missed shots scorched the wood and plaster of the orphanage, and the movements of his sabre cut effortless chunks out of the door frame.

The first droid's shields sputtered out with ripple as the redirected shots wore it down. Seizing the advantage, Zereth sidestepped both shots, swung his sabre upwards from the ground and cut through the hinges of one of the double doors and kicked it out at the droid, using the force to assist the traveling object he threw it at the shieldless droid, smashing into it's small chassis and reducing it into a sparking fireball as it fell to earth. The other continue it's attack, doubling it's rate of fire as if attempting to avenge it's fallen comrade. Zereth did his best to stave off the droid, even as it drove him deeper into the orphanage.

Lilaeana's Mandalorians came around the corner and returned fire, quickly slagging through the droid's shield. Ducking and rolling under the incoming fire pattern, Zereth threw his sabre straight into the droid, piercing it's hull and exiting out the other side. It's movement halted, but it continued to fire, although eradically. A few more shots from the mandalorians finally disabled it's systems and it fell to the ground. Lifeless. Retrieving his sabre, Zereth retreated back into the hall, looking for more enemies. "We need to keep moving. If we stay they may overwhelm us with droids sentries."

[Ireen Cole]

While Ireen packed her meagre belongings, there was a din just outside her door: the clatter of many heavy armoured feet attacking the floor in rapid unison. She pressed her ear to the metal and listened. Someone was giving instructions with the familiar icy drone of a Stormtrooper, directing squads to the turbolifts, the stairwell, and the maintenance shafts. When she checked the live feed from outside her room, a panel lit up on the wall that revealed a couple of uniformed guards flanking her door. Evidently, she was not considered important enough, or dangerous enough, to warrant Stormtrooper supervision. That was their mistake.

The sound of breaking glass drew the attention of the guards. When the door slid open, they found Ireen face-down on the floor, surrounded by the shattered remains of a water jug. She heard one approach, softly, on smartly-booted feet. His shadow blocked out the harsh light; as he sought to inspect her, his thigh brushed her hip as he crouched. Scoff was close, watching over her, whining, snuffling at her hair. When Ireen felt the guard start to turn her over, she made her move. There was a crack as the chunky datapad met the the guard’s head.

“Don’t move!” his partner barked, weapon raised.

It was Scoff’s turn to act. With a slurp, his thick tongue fired out and glued itself to the blaster, disarming the guard in an instant. The weapon clattered by her side, and in the confusion, Ireen capitalised, turning the blaster on its previous owner. A piercing whir and a flash of blue; the guard was unconscious before he hit the floor. The remaining guard, who had fumbled to snatch her blaster away, was wrestling with Scoff, and shrieking every time the frog-dog’s needle teeth sunk deeper into his forearm. Ireen drew back her blaster and whipped it across the back of his head.

“Ah!” she dropped the blaster, and nursed her wrist, hissing, “Spast, that smarts!”

That was nothing like she had seen in the holos. Her wrist hurt like a son-of-a-Hutt. Once she had her belongings and the keycard from one of the unconscious guards, she locked them both inside her quarters and took off down the corridor, with Scoff bounding in her wake.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena was already moving as Zereth dispatched the last droid. The building was big, but they'd already seen most of the ground floor. There were only a few choices left as far as places that were relatively accessible from the outside, hidden from the front of the property, and ...dust free.

The library was filled floor to ceiling with empty shelves, had glass doors that led into the overgrown gardens (conveniently near the loading dock for the kitchens), and was spotlessly clean when compared to the rest of the orphanage. She walked to the center of the room, and closed her eyes, 'seeing' with the Force as she turned slowly, examining each wall. There.

She opened her eyes. "Jeng, keep Aang with you and guard this room. We'll need an exit. Keep in contact with our pilot and have her ready to pick us up." The acolyte nodded, and the two Mando'ade moved to the egress points for the library. Lilaena walked straight ahead toward the bookcases, the memory of that wild panic from below stoking her anger as she thrust her hands out toward the woodplast shelving.

The machinery in the walls resisted at first, and then with a quiet mechanical squeal the hidden doors peeled back, revealing a small metal 'air lock,' and a secondary door. One that relied on locks, rather than secrecy. She stalked into the antechamber and pressed her palm to the scanner. As the scan initiated she flooded the system with heat, cooking the internal computer and sending it to oblivion before alarms could be raised. Secondary systems began to spool up, seconds passing like minutes inside the security grid, and she was inside with them, the Force tracing wires and commands to where the physical locks were located. Lilaena grimaced with concentration as she felt the pull of the active electromagnets holding the door closed, heavy durasteel back up pins standing by to seal the door permanently, as if she was trying to open a giant wall safe.

She clenched her fist, cut the power to the electromagnets, and pulled the door open before the secondary security activated.

[Akasha Khan]

Akasha watched with a burning hunger as Master De'Ville exercised her power on the door, and not just with brute force, but with cunning and skill. No doubt the finer points of the technique were beyond the scope of the Orryixian's senses, but she'd had little enough opportunity to see her master in action, and she wasn't going to pass up any opportunity to learn by osmosis. Perhaps after the mission she could ask Lilaena about the details. Maybe even try them out on the lock to Kei's quarters.

The Orryxian padded up to the yawning threshold and found herself staring down into a deep shaft bordered by tracks and cables. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the low light and spotted the roof of an elevator car some twenty meters below. Not a daunting height for her, but still she hesitated. She shook out a small paw-ful of powder from a vial on her belt and threw it into the shaft. As the cloud of dust sprinkled down, it caught the light of several blood-red lasers cris-crossing the shaft like cobwebs.

"Should we even worry about tripping their alarms now?" she said with disgust.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She leaned out over the edge as Akasha revealed the security measures, and then crouched at lip of the doorway. "The droids will have already alerted whatever autonomous security forces there are. But disabling the 'lift will make our exit difficult." They didn't know if they were going to be pulling children out from below, but that was the plan, and for now she would continue to operate as such.

Speed was of the essence. She looked at her apprentice. "Can you climb down and avoid the grid?" Akasha looked at her steadily, with a what do you think look on her face, and Lilaena nodded. "Right. Do that, and send the turbolift up, or disable the lockouts, so they can't shut it down. This door," she tapped the frame around them, "has a physical backup locking mechanism, like a safe. I'm assuming they also have a way to blow the 'lift, and we really don't want them to do that."

[Akasha Khan]

"Got it," Akasha said, and she contemplated the still-shimmering lasers below.

"Vod'ika," Lanai said, and she pressed a small, dagger-like computer device into Akasha's paw. "Put that into any open terminal you find. I'll be able to access their systems from my wrist comm."

The Orryxian studied the little slicing shunt and slipped it securely into one of the pockets on her belt. Then, with a nod of thanks to Lanai, she gripped the edge of the doorframe and swung herself out into the turboshaft.

She spidered her way down the walls using anything she could grasp - the lift cables made good pawholds, as did the edges of a ventilation grate, a set of water pipes, and, for one nervy moment, the metal housing around one of the laser emitters themselves. Halfway down she had to jump a breathless gap from a girder to a guide rail, clearing a whining red laser with a flick of her tail. In much less time than it felt, she was safely on the roof of the lift. She cast a glance back up to where her comrades waited but could see only shadows against the glare of light from the entryway.

Luck was with her. The emergency hatch was secured by a pair of magnetic latches that sheared easily with two bursts of her lightstaff. She lifted the hatch and slipped into the lift, which was no darker inside than a cloudy night in the Ossian wilderness. She felt with her claws for an access panel, tore it off with reckless savagery, and jammed Lanai's slicer into the blinking dataport and waited.

Moments passed with nothing but the ticking of electronic circuits and her own labored breathing for company. Impatient, she tapped her ear comm and whispered, "Well?"

In the entryway above, Lanai fussed with a holographic interface projected from a raised panel on the armor of her left forearm. "I'm into the lift systems, but it's biometrically locked. If I don't have a compatible bio-signature--"

Suddenly the lights came on and the lift doors in front of Akasha hissed open - for a moment she thought Lanai had found away past the security net, but instead she found herself staring at a team of black-suited officers and beige-suited engineers who looked just as surprised as she was. But the Force and her natural feline graces gave her the initiative to leap at them like a vornskr among shaak. Her lightstaff SNAP-hisssed to life and immediately vivisected two men, and while the others stumbled away and reached for their sidearms, she seized a terrified officer by the collar and hurled him into the lift.

Something chimed inside, and with a surge of triumph, Lanai said, "That's it! I'm bringing it up now!"

Blaster bolts throbbed past Akasha's ears as the lift door closed - the dazed Imperial inside lunged for the controls, but Akasha flattened him against the back wall with the Force before he was out of her sight. As the lift climbed the shaft toward her comrades, she swatted away another blaster bolt and dashed down the corridor after the retreating Imperials.

[Zereth Lancer]

Zereth too watched Lilaena's method for bypassing the secret security door, but it was not with envy or satisfaction. Where they saw just cause he saw overuse of the force. The force was a gift, not a tool to abuse. He had seen much reckless use during his time with the Sith Order. Young adults using their powers to float their plates to the counter or to retrieve a book from across the room. Horrible and lazy. In Lilaena he saw a similar pattern; a woman for who thought the force was a weapon, but employed it like a crowbar, but in reality it was a crutch. It would fail her some day and then she would be left with only herself; a being she may find foreign and alien that day.

However, he could not deny her results; nor those of her impressive apprentice.

Akasha was barely gone before the spike was implanted and the lift rising. It docked at their level and the door split open to reveal not their black furred ally but a uniformed Imperial officer. Zereth reacted immediately, lunging into the elevator cabin with a high kick to the chest that drove the officer back, against the wall, where he was then flattered by Zereth's pressing body; his forearm resting against the man's throat, squeezing the air, and life, out of him even as the man scrabbled for a purchase that could not be found. A knife was produced from his free hand and leveled against the stomach, angled upwards, ready to bypass the rib cage to get at all the delicate squishy things within.

"Everyone in. Let us descend immediately." He called over his shoulder before pulling his elbow back just enough to allow a ragged breath in. "Now tell me what we should expect in the lower levels and I will not end your life."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The officer stared at them, eyes wide as he struggled to pull in a breath. Lilaena caught his eye as the turbolift lurched downward, and began to call out to stop, but it was too late. The Imperial shoved himself forward and down, impaling himself on the blade in Zereth's hand. He coughed, a splatter of blood hitting the dark sider, and slumped down to the ground.

The ride was short, but punctuated with the Imperial's last ragged breaths as he quickly bled out. Lilaena stalked out of the 'lift, the suicide only sharpening her resolve to get to the bottom of what was going on inside this...orphanage.

The hallway was standard Imperial white and grey, a very modern look compared to the old world Talusian architecture of the building above. It was also littered with bodies, two of whom had had their intestines spilled to the floor by Akasha's staff. The apprentice was nowhere to be seen. "We'll split up. Zereth, take Teroch with you. Atin, stay here, guard the 'lift. If we find another way out I'll let you know."

The acolyte nodded, using his feet to move some of the dead Imperials out of the way. "Choruk, Lanai, you're with me. Once we meet up with Akasha, you," she looked at Lanai, "will go with her. We rescue the children, and kill everyone else."

[Ireen Cole]

“We have a breach. I want all available units to Section 2. I repeat: all available units to Section 2.”

The downpour of armoured feet passed like thunder, rumbling into the distance. Ireen peeled herself away from the wall and chanced a look in time to see the last of the stormtroopers disappear around a corner. Overhead, the lights flickered, and dimmed; power was being redirected. There was something very strange going on. Every corridor thereafter was empty and still.

An eerie silence had descended upon the facility; every footstep and breath resounded all around her, like the pursuit of some unseen stalker. It had Ireen on edge, tossing her gaze into every shadow, and peeking around every corner. All of her concern had been for naught, however, as she arrived at the nursery door without incident. That it was unguarded came as no great surprise, considering the security measures already in place, each of which designed to keep people in, not out. All it took was a security key and the right fingerprints, both of which were in Ireen’s possession.

There was a winding clatter as the seals unlocked, and a hiss, when the thick durasteel slab swung open. The dormitory stretched out in front of her, the stark light from behind knifing into the gloom. For a fleeting instant, Ireen saw a pair of large eyes, before they vanished with a squeak behind one of the many unoccupied beds.

“It’s me. Don’t be scared.”

What a thing to say, she thought. She found the children huddled together, on the floor. Jinn appeared to have gathered the others to her, in Braccaloo’s absence: Bramble was wrapped in her arms, covering her eyes with tiny paws; Manni and Derik propped her up on either side, the former of whom was purple and grazed from the lieutenant’s attack; the latter, and youngest, of the boys rose defiantly. He stepped forward, squared his shoulders, balled his fists, and looked up.

“Miss, did you take Lewie away?” he sounded confused by his own words.

“I did.”

To see the last ember of hope snuffed out behind his sinking eyes was bad enough, but, to know that she was the cause of it, was worse. His lower lip became swollen, “Why?”

“Oh, Derik,” Ireen’s attempt to close the gap between them was met with alarm, forcing the little Nikto boy into swift retreat. There were some chasms too vast for hugs. She knew, in that moment, whatever bond she'd had with those children was gone forever. “I didn’t want to hurt any of you.”

“But you did!” Jinn spat through her teeth. Her face was wet and her chest heaved, she was ready to fight. The way her arms tightened around Bramble sparked in Ireen a battle of pride and self-loathing, “You hurt Dayton, Sualee, Lewie. Who’s next?”

“Nobody! Jinn, I swear. I’m going to get you out of here, right now.”

“You’re lying!” shouted Manni, who struggled with his words, pushing them out of the unswollen side of his face, “You told Lewie everything was fine, and then watched them take him away.”

When she was first assigned her dreadful task, Ireen had one request: the children were to be kept ignorant of the fate that awaited them. She offered to keep them distracted with stories and games, she saw to it that their prison became a home, because it was the only protection she had to offer. Now, even that last line of defence had been taken from them, The Imperial machine did not concern itself with the feelings of children. But, in stripping the children of their protection, they had stripped their prize scientist of her fear, and her restraint. She was powerless no more. Yet, when she dared to take another step, Jinn shot up, and retreated.

“Why would you help us now? It’s another trick! Derik, get back!”

He looked up, hopeful once again, “Can we take Lewie with us?”

“There’s no time,” Ireen shot a pained glance at the door, where Scoff was standing guard. She knew that, if there was any chance of winning them over, it was through Jinn. She met her suspicion with desperation, “Please, Jinn, if we’re going to get out of here, we have to leave now. Something’s going on. Everyone’s distracted. It’s our only chance!”

[Akasha Khan]

Maiur's bile, what did they feed these Imperials to make them so heavy?

With a monumental effort and a little help from the Force, Akasha heaved the last of the engineers onto the growing pile in the maintenance closet. It wouldn't have been quite so large if not for the two junior techs who'd walked in on her in the process. One had reached for his wrist comm to bark out a warning, and had quickly been cut down under the Oryxxian's crimson blades. The other had simply collapsed in a blubbering heap on the floor. So Akasha had relieved him of all his equipment, bound his hands together with half a roll of gaffer tape, and told him to wait quietly in the corner while she finished her macabre work.

They were in a server room of some sort, most of it dominated by six rows of two-meter-tall computer banks covered in blinking, multicolored lights. In one corner was an L-shaped workstation with multiple screens and keyboards, probably for accessing the servers. Lanai would have a field day in here, but to Akasha it was all so much Verpine. All she'd needed was someplace isolated and out of the way where she could stow her victims, and the drone of the cooling fans happily covered up most of the noise she was making. She swung the last pair of legs on top of the heap and slammed the override to send the closet door hissing shut. Then she turned to face her sole remaining live victim.

He shrank even further into the durasteel walls at the sight of her venom-green eyes. "Please... please don't hurt me."

The Orryxian slunk toward him with the unhurried efficiency of a spider reeling in her paralyzed prey. She knelt before the quivering tech and, gently, almost maternally, took his bound hands into her padded paws and began stroking them, knuckle to fingertip.

"Would you like to keep your hands?" she whispered.

He blanched. And then he began nodding vigorously. "Oh, yes. Oh please, yes. Yes, please, yes, yes--"

"Shut up." Akasha slipped her lightstaff from its holster on her back and held its emitter flush against his wrists. The young man froze - didn't even breathe.

"You're going to tell me where the children are."

---

Moments later he joined the pile of bodies in the closet, still in possession of his hands and, against Akasha's better judgment, his life. With the closet secured and the door controls melted into a puddle of molten silicon, the Orryxian stood before the workstation and tapped her earpiece.

"Master. I have taken a computer center. I have a map of the facility, and the location of the children."

She removed her earpiece and set it on the data port to the left of the nearest keyboard so it could transmit her data to De'Ville and the others. The screen displayed the underground facility in the form of three color-coded rings. The outermost, orange ring was mostly military - a barracks, armories, security stations, a few testing ranges. The next ring in, rendered in green, housed sleeping quarters, offices, a library, some recreational facilities, and a small medical clinic. The innermost sector was an undifferentiated mass of blue labeled RESTRICTED. Akasha couldn't access any information on it.

"The children are held in one of two dormitories in the second ring," Akasha said. "East quadrant. And, Master. There are two platoons of Stormtroopers here. About seventy total. Whatever they're doing with the children, they've thrown a lot of force behind it."

[Zereth Lancer]

Zereth's face folded into a frown as the Imperial pushed himself on his knife. He couldn't pull the blade away in time; it was trapped between their bodies. Instead he gingerly set the officer down on the floor, pulling the knife free and then taking the Officer's hand. Holding it tightly until his grasp went limp and the life left him. Shaking his head Zereth wiped the knife blade off on the man's uniform with one hand while the other closed his eyes. After sheathing the blade he crossed the officer's hands, giving the fallen enemy a serene appearance. He took the honorable way out, choosing death other betraying his ideals. Zereth could respect that.

The lift opened and they stepped out. Akasha had left corpses in her wake, but there was no time to admire her brutality. Lilaena commanded and Zereth obeyed. Nodding to Teroch the pair set off down one of the hallways at a jog. There was no time to lose. Every moment spent was time for their opponent to get into position. They moved quickly, but as quietly as possible. Only the sound of their steps filled the hall as they passed. Eyes open, always looking. A tech stepped out of a doorway in front of them, clearly confused by the alarms, but all he discovered was pain as Zereth ran him through with his lightsabre before throwing him back into the room he came from and closing the door.

Akasha's call came through the comms. Zereth and Teroch ducked into a receded space in the wall that housed some machinery and looked over the data. "The Troopers will most likely come from the barracks and armory. I'll move to cut them off." He didn't wait for approval. He doubted all seventy would be together. They would break off into units, sweep the building. That's what he would do. However, their smaller numbers would make them weak. Using the map as a guide they continued through the military ring, heading straight for certain danger.

A group of troopers came around a corner to discover one of their own standing with a blaster to an intruder's head. They cautiously approached, checking angles and corners for more intruders until they were grouped on the lone trooper and his prisoner. The unit sergeant, identifiable by his orange paldron, walked up to the lone trooper to congratulated him and get a sitrep when he noticed the trooper seemed off. He had said nothing, not moved, up close his armor looked strange. Wrong. He barked out a demand for an soldier and unit identification, and that's when the trooper finally moved, standing up straight. His armor fell away, turning into dust that vaporized into nothing to reveal the red eyes of Zereth Lancer. The blaster was gone in his hand and the silver and black leather lightsabre pummel taking it's place.

The blade activated, arcing from low to high across the Sergeant's chestplate; opening him up like a can. At his legs, Teroch readied her own weapon and began firing, shooting the grouped troopers in the back before they could turn and respond. Zereth was already a flurry of motion, throwing troopers off their feet with the force before cutting through them one at a time. Grouped this close he could chain his strikes together, moving from one trooper to the next, stabbing and slashing through their armor like it was butter. Only moments and the eight troopers lay dead. Standing over the dead and dying Zereth surveyed the scene, watching for more. Nothing. The hallway was quite except for the cries of pain and the throbbing of his lightsabre. "Let's move." He commanded before stabbing into the neck seal of one of the dying troopers. No one deserved to suffer.

"Eight Troopers down."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena jogged through the Imperial white corridors, Choruk and Lanai on her heels as they headed toward Akasha. Her apprentice was also on the move, beelining toward the dormitories according to the datapad Lanai was holding. As Zereth reported in his kills, they ran into their own squad of stormtroopers. The Mando'ade threw themselves at the slight cover of a doorway as blaster fire rocketed down the hall toward them, but Lilaena ignited her lightsaber and deftly deflected the bolts, sending them sizzling into the walls.

She stalked down the hallway, lightsaber flashing as she provided the cover needed for Choruk and Lanai to shoot at the troopers. One by one the stormtroopers began to fall under their assault, but they never broke formation, shooting to the last man as Lilaena took his helmeted head off with a slash of her blade. What were they guarding? She opened the door with the Force, on guard and ready for whatever might be behind it.

[Ireen Cole]

When Ireen left the nursery, she found the silence that once haunted the long white corridors had been replaced by the distant sound of blaster song. The battle was bleeding deep into the heart of the facility; the Imperials were losing. She didn't know whether to rejoice or despair. Behind her, the children took their first tentative steps towards freedom, blinking in the oppressive light. They huddled close to each other, padding after Ireen in their slippers; around a winding passage, they were led, and then down a long empty hall. A crash, like rolling thunder, made the very ground beneath them tremble. Scoff barked whenever the younglings hesitated, but this time, they were frozen.

"Jinn!" Ireen dared not raise her voice above a whisper, "We have to keep moving!"

When Ireen touched her wrist, she didn't flinch. The young Twi'lek stared, eyes full-mooned with fear, beyond the sterile walls and the packed earth to the places where men died. Ireen imagined them, too, piled high in mounds of charred plastoid - good riddance. With a gentle tug, she beckoned Jinn onwards, and the boys followed. Bramble had not yet removed her face from Jinn's neck. Soon they were upon a familiar turbolift. The door gasped open, and when the sound of blaster fire renewed nearby, the children hurried inside.

"Stay close to me." Ireen said, once the turbolift started to hum. She felt Scoff brush against her leg and found comfort in his company. The last time she took this lift, there were guards to greet her, and a sealed door. Somehow, she had to get past the guards and through the door. Her heart was racing. Every breath felt like a great heaving effort. "When the doors open, stay out of sight. I will-"

A second crash, much closer this time, sounded far below. It tolled like a great bell, ringing through the metal shell of the turbolift. Bramble whimpered, and Derek wrapped himself around Ireen's leg. Ireen couldn't move. A terrible clamour climbed its way up the turbolift shaft, clanging, clattering, booming. And then, a savage noise, like a ravenous snarling beast, was upon them. The lift shook; there was a screech of nails, or claws, raking against the metal all around them, raking at the walls of Ireen's mind, piercing her heart. She could feel it. From the other side of the door, there came a long chilling howl, and then silence. Whatever it was, it had gone. The turbolift resumed its ascent.

"Miss, I'm scared." Manni was by her side now. She took his hand.

"Me, too."