From the shadows, Tu'chak'a stepped out as his predecessor sliced out his tongue and reeled in pain from it. He stood in the low light, baring his fangs and stood with his claws behind his back, his tail twitching with anticipation. "Blood mother..."

"Apparently," she began, "the Agent and her accomplices have... vanished. You will seek them out and return her to me. However, a warning. Do not return to me without her."

"Beg my...pardon, Mistress." He began, his words slowed by the respirator around his neck. "In your...apprentice's cowardice there was a...nugget of truth." He spoke when both breathing outward and taking breath in, to not waste his blood mother's time and his own life. "There is one among them...Zenithar. He makes the...acquisition of your agent very...troublesome. His power, as well as his own apprentice's...is immense. A direct assault to...capture the agent is not...possible. Setting a trap may...be more appropriate." He slowed and clenched his hand several times from a sudden sharp pain. "I can weaken, threaten, and lead...them into your grasp, let them be made...examples of your might..."

Darth Scurus was quiet for several long moments.

"Hm. Both of you mention this person... Fine. Do as you see fit."

"Yes, my blood mother." He finished, placing his fist over his heart and bowing respectively. He turned around and brushed harshly against her apprentice hard enough to stumble him as he made his way into the darkness quick as the wind that had carried him in. When in the light, he looked at the source of the pain in his hand, it had been sliced open and the flesh stripped away. Already his naturally extreme regeneration was healing the wound, but he made note that her apprentice was to be his next target after the agent.

____

The camp was a little quiet this damp, foggy, morning. It had rained heavily the night before, drenching the camp and the logs that were outside the ship. Cheshik's wagon was loaded up with various things to sell in the city and was covered with a tan tarp. The sun was still a few hours from rising. Nyrette and Quin were still fast asleep and Cheshik was saddling up Snickers. The Varactyl preened it's head feathers, cleaning them of the dampness that was setting into the area. "I am sorry, Snickers." Cheshik said, rubbing behind her ears. "In all of excitement, I have neglected your cleaning. I even avoided hunting with you. Forgive Cheshik for being bad father." He rubbed behind her head and found her happy spot. The Varactyl seemed to forget the past few weeks when it's hind leg went to scratch it's neck but could not reach. She illicited a strange sound from her mouth, a mix between a hiss and a purr. Cheshik stopped and hugged the neck of the huge lizard. She flicked her tongue several times and nuzzled against Cheshik.

"Hello Cheshik." Cynthia said, walking down the ship steps, still in the same angular gown that she wore all week. Even with the ruckus, it stayed pristine. Considering she doesn't sleep, she must clean it constantly.

"Oh. I did not see you. Good morning." He said, turning away from Snickers to address the Haemonculus. She lay her head down next to Cheshik's leg and rubbed up against his ankle.

"If I may ask, why did you name her 'Snickers'?" She asked, approaching the lizard. She felt a pit of fear in her heart for a moment, having never seen or heard of any creature like this before.

"Because of sound she makes when I scratch behind head." He reached down and started scratching behind her ear again and she made the same hissing-purring noise from before. "It sound like snickering, thus, Snickers." He stopped and she looked up at him, a little disappointed.

"She reminds me of a cat, but...um. Huge." She said, nervous.

"Do not be afraid of her. She big softy." He said, patting her head. "She would never hurt family."

"But...I'm not family. I'm just a servant here." She said, coming close and placing a hand on Snicker's head, feeling the scaly texture.

"You are wrong. We all want you here, you are as much family as Quin, or Marquis." He smiled, as did she. She looked a lot happier and continued rubbing Snickers' head, finding the spot behind it and scratching, making her snicker again.

"This trip will take a few days at least. Marquis is staying. Don't think we could get him to leave the ship if we tied him and dragged him out," Iisska shook his head, "You two are gonna give me an ulcer... You three, I mean. Anyway, I'll ask him to talk to you even though I really hope you can't hear anything. But if you can, get up off your lazy ass. This place is getting too quiet."

He pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on, opened the door to Zen's room and stepped out.

"Talk to you when we get back."

Then he closed the door behind him and left the comatose man behind. He stopped by his room on the way out of the ship to pick up his old, tattered duffle bag and jacket which now had yet another patch on it. He rolled his shoulder out while strapping the bag onto his back. The wound had sealed itself nicely, but was still sore.

Outside it was dawn. The sun had just barely begun to peak out over the horizon. The western horizon as they had learned recently from Cynthia. The sky was a hazy shade of purple and pink and a crisp chill still hung in the air. Beads of moisture were starting to form on the surface of the Harpoon and along the foliage. The crew were finishing preparations for the trek to the city and had bags full of camping supplies and food. Iisska had finally managed to get his head back in working order the afternoon before and had stayed up well into the night jerry-rigging a harness for Kobel which attached to the wagon Cheshik had assembled. As long as the huge animal was kept under control he was able to pull it behind him rather easily. At the moment he was even managing to get a last nap while strapped into the ensemble. Inside the cart they loaded their trade goods. Heavy awkward things that would be difficult to carry all that way.

The sun was about halfway out of the horizon when Cynthia began to insist that they make their way to the road. They wanted to make as much progress as possible before dark.

"Sterling," Iisska approached the droid, "I need a favor. Talk to Zen while we're gone. At least a little bit. I hear that's what you're supposed to do with people in a coma... And eh, maybe it doesn't work the same way with T.I. but... Never mind. We'll see you in a few days."

The crew said brief goodbyes to Marquis and headed out into the forest toward the road which would be a few miles away according to Cynthia.

It was slow going at first. With no proper road and barely a trail to walk on Kobel struggled with the horrible contraption he found himself in and made sure everybody knew of his displeasure by nibbling and drooling on anyone who got too close to his head. Nothing to cause injury. Just quiet protests and an omen of things to come should they ever think of doing this again. Going around tight corners, jagged rocks and weaving between trees had become nearly impossible for him. But several hours later the forest began to thin and they came to a wide, well traveled, dirt path that cut its way through the trees.

From here they followed the road south out of the mountains though by the time the sun set and they were setting up their first camp out of sight of the main thoroughfare, the peaks were still looming upward far in the distance. Cheshik had set up a small fire and had started cooking up a quick dinner.

"You said you think we'll be reaching the city by tomorrow?" Quin asked Cynthia.

"Yes." she said, nodding and smiling. "At the pace we set today, we should reach the city around noon tomorrow, provided we begin traveling again at dawn."

"Which we will," Quin nodded, "Good. It will be a nice change of scenery to be somewhere with different people and more... civilization."

"Cheshik not good company for you anymore?" Cheshik said, a little sad.

"That is not what I meant, Cheshik. I just meant that seeing different faces... Mm. Forget I said anything."

"Oh, my face isn't good now?" Nyrette said with a bowl of soup in hand.

"We are not civilized either?" Cheshik added. "Look at Iisska, he is pinnacle of civilization." He gestured at the Togruta, whom was scarfing down a bowl of soup. He lowered the bowl just as his name was mentioned and his chin was covered, a noodle or two hung from his mouth.

"Yeah! I'm th-sho shivilizhed!" he remembered to swallow but only after spraying bits of food everywhere, "I'm so civilized I make you look like a dirty caveman. Speaking of caveman I'm sick of looking at your ugly face too. That one gross hair that grows too low on your fore--"

"Don't you finish that sentence," Quin snapped, "Nyrette your face is beautiful, Cheshik you're a gentleman and a scholar, Cynthia you're... Nice... I'm just saying I've maybe been going a bit stir crazy since we landed."

"What about me?" Iisska asked.

"What about you?" Quin glared at him.

"Stir crazy?" He questioned her. He handed her the ladle for the soup. "Here, stir soup. Should stop craziness."

"Oh...oh Cheshik." Cynthia said, shaking her head. "Even I understood that and I'm still wondering what thuuljek means...what does that mean, Iisska?" She asked him.

Iisska stopped eating and went wide eyed. Then went into spasms as he had just sucked most of his soup into his lungs. Horrible hacking and gagging noises filled the forest and he struggled to catch his breath, writhing on the ground in regurgitated noodles. Then he heaved himself back onto his rock seat.

"NOTHING! It doesn't mean nothing! It's a... ah... filler word?" he choked.

"Wait. 'It doesn't mean nothing'? That means it...means something, right?" Cynthia pressed.

"Judging by the context and frequency in which he uses it in conjunction with the modifier "ljek" which usually pertains to a matron in Togruta society I'm making a rough guess at, 'your mother's cunt,'" Quin chimed in, "Am I wrong?"

"YOU SHUT UP!" Iisska yelled at her.

"Iisska. For shame. You use such vile language in front of young, impressionable, ladies such as us?!" Nyrette said, having been enjoying the show. "Your tongue is covered in dung and you should strive to clean it up."

"Pfft, I have no idea what imp--ffssable means and young? You're kidding, right? And when you translate it like that it sounds..." he shuddered, "Fine. Maybe I'll stop saying that one."

"Yes. And chance of that happening is same as you not staring at Cynthia's backside." Cheshik quipped, stroking snickers' head feathers.

Iisska went pale, "I-- N-- No! I wouldn't do that! You're! You're wrong! Stop lying, Cheshik! I didn't... I didn't-- wasn't looking at your backside," he stuttered.

All at once, Nyrette, Quin, and Cheshik all rang out. "Liar." Meanwhile, Cynthia barely had a clue what they were talking about.

"Fuck all of you! With something... big and stabby and--" Iisska stood up.

"Like your penis?" Cheshik said, giggling.

"IT'S NOT STABBY!"

"Oh, so you finally admit that it's big? Congrats on the first step to confidence!" Nyrette said.

"Eh, I've seen bigger," Quin mumbled.

"You have been in shower with Iisska too?" Cheshik said.

"Wut" Nyrette said, worried. "Is there something I need to know, Pike?"

"No... Iisska tends to get naked when he gets drunk... Cheshik?" Quin raised an eye brow, "Have you two...?"

"NO!" Iisska screamed at them "I WOULD NEVER! I LIKE GIRLS. NOT SPIKY KNOBBY DOUBLE DICK!"

"Woah!" Nyrette said. "Just how much time have you two been spending together?!"

"What? Trying to build confidence to impress opposite sex. Requires training." Cheshik said.

"I can't believe I'm part of this conversation." Cynthia sighed.

"You should get used to that," Quin said.

"Wait a second," Iisska paused, "You? Training? ... Opposite sex!? Just what are you getting at?"

"As Nyrette and Quin say before. 'Iisska needs to get laid.'" He laughed.

Iisska stared Cheshik down in silence for an amount of time that became uncomfortable. He pursed his lips, turned around and walked away.

"I am going to Hell, aren't I Quin?" Cheshik said, finishing his soup.

"I think everybody here is going to Hell, Cheshik," she sighed.

---

The next morning, they packed up at the crack of dawn as they had done the morning before and set back out. There was idle chit-chat and happy conversation floating around to pass the time. Iisska, however, did not get involved as he was giving everyone the silent treatment. That was until they reached the top of a steady incline a few hours after lunch. There he stopped and uttered a humble, "Woah."

Out in the distance, in a low valley sprawled a grid of ruins and in the center was a city. It was far away but a couple details could be made out. In the middle of that rose a tall, slender tower. It was wiry and spider-like with several shorter, newer structures branching off of it and did not look like it belonged there at all.

"Is that it?" Quin asked.

"That is it," Cynthia responded.

"Finally," she sighed, "This trip was starting to run a bit long."

Soon there were piles of stones and rows of brick along the road. They turned into overgrown foundations and in a smattering of places there was even a wall or two still standing. They were covered in moss and graffiti, but it was obvious this was once part of a larger settlement. Small houses and fields stretched out from the city proper. They ran into a small group of farmers on the road once they were closer to the front entrance and the guard tower there. Though they tried to great them politely, the farmers ran screaming.

"This is going to be interesting," Quin said.

She went on edge immediately after that and kept looking around and checking her six. There was something wrong here. She didn't feel that they were safe.

The guard tower and outpost standing between the city and them now seemed like it had been thrown together from a junk pile and looked very strange. The whole city seemed strange now that Quin could get a better look at it. Sections were constructed from rusting and crumbling massive steel plate, struts and beams. Newer looking stone, brick and wood had been added to form the structures in the city. People could be seen along the walkways of the dirty streets. All of them dressed in a rather primitive manner.

At the outpost they were approached by three guards. All of them wore the kind of armor Delebor had stored in his armory. Clunky, metal and heavy. These men looked like they meant business.

Quin shrank back but stood firm.

"I don't like this," she whispered to Nyrette.

"Stop right there! Move and we'll cut you down where you stand!" The first guard yelled at them.

Nyrette gripped Quin's hand as the guards approached with halberds in hand. Cynthia stepped forward calmly, showing no fear or aggression, with her hands clasped. "Good morning, sirs." She said. "Is there a problem?"

"What in god's name is that?!" He pointed at Iisska. He looked behind him, seeing nothing, and went a slight shade of red. The guards looked scared of the unknown creature in front of them.

"Do not worry, sirs. He is an outlander and he means no harm. The group with me are all outlanders and, again, they mean no harm." She said, smiling. The guards seemed to calm slightly, but then they focused on her.

"And you, where is your mask Haemonculi?!" They said accusingly.

"I am Cynthia and, until one week ago, I was the Haemonculi servant of Alchemist Master Delebor. Unfortunately, sir, Delebor has passed away from disease. His last command was that I be passed onto these outlanders and have my mask removed." The two guards reeled a bit when she mentioned Delebor's death. He was well respected in the community apparently.

"I have my doubts about the two humans and Scytheran you have with you, but I have no reason to not believe Delebor's Haemonculi. My humblest apologies, ma'am." He said, bowing. "How did he go, if I may ask?"

Though she maintained her neutral and calm composure, Cynthia was overcome with grief and anger at the question, but she answered it dutifully. "F-from a rat infestation. He was infected with the plague and we could not find a cure." She said, though the guards continued.

"Why could you not find a cure?! Wasn't that the reason you were created? To help Delebor make cures for the land? Why weren't you able to clear the infestation of rats before he was hurt! Isn't that your job!?" He started to yell and Cynthia started to shake a little.

A heavy hand dropped down on Cynthia's shoulder and she was pushed behind Iisska's back as he stepped around her and went toe-to-toe with the guard.

"Because shit happens!" he yelled in the man's face, "She did what she could and you yelling at her isn't gonna change a damn thing! People die. Get over it. Now are you gonna let us pass or what?"

The guard stared the Togruta down, his fellows behind him readied their halberds. Cheshik stepped forward now and towered over the guard. "Is there problem?" Cynthia was frozen.

Iisska snorted and folded his arms, leaning back away from the guard.

"Hey. Don't start none," he glared at the guard, "wont be none. We just want to go in. Trade. Spend money. This guy's got all bunched up over nothing."

"Indeed," Quin stepped forward, "No good can come of this. Put your weapons down and we will not cause trouble."

The guard stared down the group for several moments more before finally putting his hand up, making the others lower their weapons. "Get your business concluded then leave. Cause any trouble and I'll make sure you spend the rest of your days in a jail cell." He threatened. Him and his cohorts left the group alone then to recover and make their way towards the markets. They noticed one of the guards diligently heading off to either warn the townsfolk or alert them that nothing was wrong.

Cynthia kept her eyes down as they moved towards the market, feeling a heavy guilt weigh down her shoulders. "Thank you...." She said, giving Iisska a peck on the side of the head for stepping forward in her defense. "I...had seen Pike and Nyrette do that in thanks for actions too. Thank you for defending me. I...still grieve for my master's passing." She bowed slightly and went to the front of the group, steeling her face again, though everybody knew that underneath her neutral features was a torrent of feelings smashing against one another.

"Oh! Uh. Well, see, thats..." Iisska trailed off as she walked away. "You're welcome," he mumbled under his breath.

"Stop staring at backside." Cheshik whispered into his ear and patted his back as the group made their way towards the town market stalls.

___

On this clear blue day, their visit to the market stalls could not be more timely. The sun reflected brilliantly off of the ancient sky scrapers of a civilization long since passed. Vegetation had reclaimed the stone that had once held families, businesses, shops, and other curios of the ancient past. Exotic flowers bloomed along the ground, walls, and wherever they could manage to not get trampled by the townsfolk of what the group would find out would be Airedale. Many of the buildings had been reinforced with steel and wooden beams so that the citizens could reclaim them and use them for their own families. To Nyrette, whom was walking the main thoroughfare and exploring, this was a brilliant yet foolhardy choice but she was not one to object to these people's traditions. The town was bustling today as, according to those that she had asked, today was "Trading day" for the merchants and many in the region gathered here once a month to trade their goods back and forth. Huge pack animals moved around one another, following their masters. Nyrette had no trouble moving through the crowds due to her rather thin figure.

She held a few trinkets from the mansion in a sack on her back. A vase or two, a small painting, a few daggers and a crossbow. She took a sharp turn and stepped through the grass to a large stall. There was a sign on the front that said "antiques". She figured that she would be able to get rid of the vases and the painting here.

Stepping inside, her nose was assaulted by the musty vellichor of the antique shop. The owner had obviously been here a good while as the tent had wooden floors and beams to hold up the top as well as bookshelves and displays. Nyrette made her way inside and started to poke around a bit, using her free hand to grasp onto the dusty antiques and look them over. Some were very very old, others seemed like they were made less than a week ago. "Looking for something, dearie?" an old, shambly woman's voice called out from the middle of the tent. There was a hunched over woman with bony, sagging, features in front of a circular arrangement of bookcases around the main support pillar. She waved Nyrette over and she complied, strolling over while still gawking.

"My, aren't you a pretty little thing? Not from around here, are you?" She said smiling a bit before pulling a washrag from underneath the counter and shining the top.

"I'm not, no. I'm...ah, what did she call us...an outlander." Nyrette replied.

"Yes, yes, I know you are an outlander. The town watch made sure the entire city knew. Hah hah!" She laughed. "I am guessing that your husband gave you that fine rapier there?" She noticed Nyrette's sword. "Why would he do that, I wonder?"

Nyrette was slightly insulted by the woman assuming that she was given the sword by a husband. "No, I found the sword myself...and I have no husband."

"The same place you found that vase I hope." She winked, noticing the shape of the vase in the bag. Nyrette remembered why she was here and lowered the bag gently onto the counter, removing the two vases and the painting.

"Are you able to give me anything for these?" She asked.

"Well, dearie. I can give you plenty of things." She cackled. "Food, shelter, an ear or two, maybe some hair or a kiss on the cheek." She laughed as Nyrette blushed a little. "I suppose you would be wanting gold for it though, right?" She said, pulling out a sack of at least a hundred fifty gold pieces. "Your vases are very nice, pristine, and the painting is an original. Two more bags after this for six hundred pieces." She smiled.

"You can tell just by looking?" Nyrette was taken aback.

"Yes, dearie. I have been in this game for forty years. I know a good antique when I see one. " She answered.

"Well...tell you what. I'll take four hundred and you give me that kiss on the cheek." Nyrette flirted a bit, harmlessly of course. The woman's eyes opened wide and she laughed hard, coughing a bit in the middle.

"Kids these days still surprise me. Here." She walked away for a moment and returned with but a single small bag. "Ten platinum, a thousand gold to you outlanders. I love when customers make me laugh." She tossed Nyrette the bag with a smile and reached forward after Nyrette caught it. She pulled on Nyrette's shirt and gave her that peck on the cheek. "Now get out of here before I lose a lung." She said, shaking her head. Nyrette chuckled and walked out of the tent with the remainder of her supplies, which was the daggers and crossbow. Now all she had to do was find a blacksmith of some sort and see if she could get a nice sword for Quin to practice with when they returned to the Harpoon.

"We're leaving," Quin said rather loudly.

She was busy counting out the coin she had received from the blacksmith for the surplus or sub par weapons they had taken from the mansion. Nyrette had wandered off on her own and Quin was beginning to have a similar urge. Cheshik was still wandering through the racks of glistening weapons on display, but Cynthia stood with her at the side of the sprawling stone building where the forge lay open to the air. Iisska was leaning over the low stone wall that kept buyers and sellers away from works in progress, the flames, acids and oils. He had managed to catch a burly and charred apprentice's attention and was currently pelting him with a myriad of questions about what they were doing, what materials they were using, how metals were shaped with only fire and a hammer like that, what sort of noxious liquids were in the troughs and anything else he didn't understand. The apprentice, never having experience with outlanders had a slew of his own questions. They rattled off question and answer back and forth in fast excited voices and completely ignored Quin.

"Excuse me, I said we're ready to go," she walked right up to them, "There's more to see."

"I'll be fine," Iisska waved her off, "Less people here and I'm having a conversation. Thanks."

"You sure? There's a ton of food in the stalls and more alcohol than I've ever seen crammed into such a small area. Might find some interesting oddities..." she tried again.

"Come get me in a couple hours," he shrugged.

"Alright," she said, "But Kobel stays with you. I can't be held responsible for him. And, Iisska, know that I will be hell to pay should you get yourself into trouble of any kind."

"Yes ma'am," he saluted as she walked off.

Cheshik insisted that they leave without him as well. He still had some admiring and shopping of his own to do here. The two women took back to the crowded main roads to browse wares, seek out other supplies, find a good meal, and a place to sleep.

---

Entranced by something that smelled like it had wafted down from heaven, the two of them began to wander through the shoppers looking for something to eat. The shoppers quickly got out of their way wherever they went. The slack-jawed staring never stopped though. Torn between the allure of food and the discomfort of being strange visitors in a strange land, the pair soon found themselves wandering onto less busy paths. Which soon turned into vacant paths. Then rather dark and scary and much too quiet paths.

“You remember how to get back? Yeah?” Iisska asked Cheshik.

“I have not payed attention. Was lost in fantasy of sexy food. We are lost.” He shrugged.

“Sexy food? No. I don’t need to know,” he sighed, “Okay well maybe…”

“My, my. Now that there is something you don’t see every day.”

Iisska snapped around to see a rat-like little man standing in the doorway to a large warehouse. A small group of other men slipped in behind him, talking in hushed voices among themselves. The man began to approach.

“Outlanders,” he hummed.

“Yeah, yeah. Get it out your system,” Iisska rolled his eyes.

“Outlanders who look like they can handle themselves,” the man grinned, “You two wouldn’t be interested in making a little money, would ya? Easy money.”

Iisska looked up at Cheshik then back at the man. He was stiffening up. Before he was about to speak they heard the very muffled, but nearby roar of a crowd. Shouting and screaming en masse that took some long seconds to die down to a soft burble again. The little man was still smiling that jagged smile.

“I… Don’t know?” Iisska winced, “What’s the catch?”

“Oh, boys, boys,” the man laughed, “No catch. My, eh, associates and I run a bit of a, eh, sports club. Mostly legal, mind you. You two step in, bust up a few faces, put on a show for the patrons, and take a percentage of the earnings if you come out on top. Simple.”

“Bust a few faces?” Iisska mimicked, “You mean a fight?”

“‘Sporting event,’” the man corrected him and nodded.

“I dunno. This sounds…”

“No weapons, no dirty fighting, well as well as can be helped, just one on one until someone taps out or goes down.”

Iisska looked back up at Cheshik and fiddled with the end of a lekku.

“I can tell you now, he won’t have no problem,” the man nodded at Cheshik, “Easy money, I promise. You two just need to get the gold flowing.”

“Alright. Fine,” Iisska blurted out, “I guess I need exercise.”

“That’s a good man… thing,” the man slapped him on the shoulder and lead them through the doors.

Once inside the pair were lead down a long flight of dark stairs into a cellar. A massive cellar. What once probably stored several seasons worth of grain harvest was now home to a makeshift sort of arena, completely encircled by enraged spectators. The noise was deafening. The smell was nauseating. The air was hard to breath. Torches lit the edges of the large room and a single shaft of bright sunlight from the warehouse above descended upon the ring in the center.

“Just got a couple hopefuls ahead of you boys now. Let's get you checked in with the bookies,” the man hummed just under the cacophony of yelling.

While he chit chatted away with one of his colleagues, Iisska found himself growing even more nervous in this place. The strange sideways looks from the locals became worse, only being pulled away once the next fight was announced. Men packed around the ring and Iisska rose up on his toes to get a better look.

Two men stood inside the ring on opposite sides. One was large, muscular and heavy. His wrapped fists resembled something that would be more at home on a club rather than a human arm. Of course his arms were as big around as most people’s legs. He stretched and flexed and laughed with his posse on the other side of the ring. His opponent looked like he was in for a bad time. A wiry, sweat-soaked, cut and bruised young man snorted a glob of blood out of his nose into the dirt and rolled out his neck. Though muscular he had no sort of bulk on him. He leaned in close to a friend and the two talked quietly into the other’s ear. Then the referee pulled them into the center. The large one bumped his fists together, grinned and postured as he looked down on the other. The thin one smirked back and shook his hands out. With the drop of a hand and a shout, the fight was started.

The big man went in hard with a right hook that missed. His opponent had back stepped just out of reach and watched him like a hawk with his hands up and loose. Again he charged in with relentless aggression. One, two, jab. Miss, miss, miss. The smaller man circled around to his side with effortless footwork. The big brute threw his arms up and insulted the other who did not react.

“This kid is gonna get himself killed,” Iisska sighed.

Cheshik placed a hand on Iisska’s shoulder. “If you fight him. You will break him.”

“Don’t think I’m gonna to get to,” Iisska shook his head, “He hasn’t throw even one--”

The brute dove in at the flighty little boxer with a heavy haymaker and missed him by a hair, throwing his body forward. The slender ginger locked up and snapped back in with a straight jab. CRACK! His fist connected with the man’s face so hard a vibration could be felt around the ring. The brute collapsed on the ground like a butchered pig.

“... P- punch,” Iisska gasped.

The bloodthirsty, profane, earsplitting howling that erupted made them wince. There was booing and hissing and scuffling in the crowd. The ref declared the winner and the wiry boxer went back to chatting with his friend.

“O-Ohh my…” Cheshik whispered. “That is very...um.”

“Shiiiiit,” Iisska pulled his hands down his face, “No, it’s okay. I can handle him. I’ve got Zen’s training. It’s fine. It’s fine. Just a fight. Will be okay…” he continued to mumble to himself.

Only minutes later he found himself stepping into the ring absentmindedly wrapping his fists in cloth that looked like it had been pulled from a hospital waste bin. Easy money, they said. Just a sporting event, they said. His nose hurt just thinking about that blow. Snap out of it! He shook his head and took a deep breath. He was going to beat this kid to a pulp, just like he did to anyone else who messed with him. Iisska handed Cheshik his jacket, unzipped his shirt and handed that over too. He drove a fist into his open palm and cracked his neck.

“This guy’s goin’ to downtown painsville,” he growled.

“He is when I am done with him,” Cheshik smiled.

“What? Oh come on I can take him out. Have some faith,” Iisska pouted.

“Oh do not worry. Cheshik will take him out.” He chuckled.

“Damn it! I can do this! Back me up or--” Iisska’s eyes snapped open wide as something dawned on him. He stared at Cheshik for several long seconds like he had just stumbled over something completely disturbing. Then he cleared his throat and turned away.

Money was being passed around to the bookies in a frantic fury. While Iisska stretched, he caught the ginger glaring at him. Unyielding, unbroken, dominant, glaring. He wanted to stare him down and remain on top but now all he could think about was very… compromising things. Iisska couldn’t help it. He broke. And started giggling and snorting. He had to cover up his mouth and take deep breaths to calm down and get back into a sparring mindset. On the bright side he felt better now.

The ref pulled the two of them together. Things were starting to slow down. Noises were starting to fade out and Cheshik placed twenty gold on them both knocking each other out.

“FIGHT!”

“Come on pretty boy. Bring it on. My brother wants you for a sleeve.” Iisska taunted alongside a hand gesture, egging the young man into throwing the first punch, but to no avail. They circled each other slowly, sizing one another up. The crowd watched in anticipation as they inched closer and closer to one another before Iisska went on the offensive and threw an unpracticed hook at the ginger’s prettyboy face.

The ginger ducked out of the way, as if entirely predicting the move, and delivered a strong jab into Iisska’s ribs and uppercut his jaw, sending him reeling backwards. “Why you little…” Iisska charged again and threw the same hook, which the ginger was prepared for, but Iisska pulled at the last second, faking the Ginger out and clocking him in the jaw, followed up by a double handed slam to the ginger’s head and a knee to the nose. Ginger fell backwards onto the dirt, much to the crowds applause and anger, before rolling onto his hands and springing back onto his feet, retaliating almost immediately and bearing down on Iisska with several unorthodox punches and kicks, sending the Togruta backwards in a haphazard and failed defense. Ginger finished the vicious combo by grabbing Iisska by his horns and slamming his face onto the ginger’s knee not once, but twice before standing him upright and pulling back for a haymaker to knock Iisska out, but the Togruta was having none of it. Iisska pulled back for one of his own.

The two put everything they had into one another’s punches and both connected on one another’s faces. Everything went black for both of them.

Cheshik meanwhile won at least three hundred gold.

In full armor, with a brilliantly white lightsaber in his right hand and a War Sword in his left. Zenithar stepped tentatively through a darkened forest. The only light he was granted was that of his saber, and the plants on the ground that gave off a faint bio-luminescent light. This forest had been the latest plague on his mind in the last day of his comatose state, swallowing whole the premonitions, dreams, and out-of-body sights he had been witnessing while Iisska spoke to him.

In his exploration of this endless forest he had never come upon any life or signs of such. Just the darkness and the plants on the ground that lit his way. Now, however. He felt an undeniably powerful presence. He had drawn his saber and reached his mind out as far as it could go, trying to find the source, but the problem was that the source was literally everywhere and had left it's mark on everything. He knew that it wouldn't be long before he found whatever was giving off so much force power...or it found him.

He froze and snapped his gaze to his right, feeling a spike of power. The light coming from the plants around him went dim, leaving him in near pitch darkness with his saber casting a dim glow on the trees around him. He heard the cataclysmic boom of thunder over head that made his ears sing with pain and the ground shake, but not even the light of the lightning above could reach him. His knuckles started to turn white from how hard he was gripping his weapons and he started to gather the force within him in readying for whatever monster was draining the very light from the world around him.

Out of nowhere He was hit with a tremendous amount of force, sending him careening backwards and slam into one of the trees with enough force to tear right through it. He hit the tree behind it and dropped to the ground as the tree he went through crashed into the dirt with a huge boom. Dark blue light sprang to life from the darkness and a storm of lightning was sent at. He leaped out of the way and landed with a roll. He felt something strange inside him spark to life, an inferno of rage. He felt a searing pain rip across his hands and arms then, looking down to see that the searing pain was from his hands and arms catching fire and engulfing his armor. After a few moments of blinding pain, he felt numb and his body moved on it's own, combining the conjured fire with his own force power and sending an arch of red hot justice through the forest, catching it ablaze in an instant.

Light returned to the forest as the fire he had conjured raged and the fire on his arms faded. He was left dumbfounded, looking over his scorched arms for a moment before snapping back into action, looking into the flames to try and see what had attacked him. The power he had summoned had gone out of control. In mere moments the entire forest around him was trapped in the inferno he had unleashed. Luckily for him it made the figure in the distance far easier to see. It was Darth Scurus. He could tell plain as day from any position and now she made herself known, sending volley after volley of lightning his way. Now that he could see, he jumped out of the way and picked up speed, closing the distance. He leaped over and ducked under her lightning archs, each one hitting right where he had been and igniting the grass and wood that it struck.

As he drew near, he put up a hand and blocked another gale-force level of force push that nearly brought him to his knees. He kept on and got close enough to start retaliating. She raised into the air a bit, floating on her own force power and zooming off into the inferno that they had created, but Zen would have none of it. He reached out with the force and sent out his own force push, aiming at the trees to shatter them and turn the splinters and logs into deadly projectiles. It did little as she deflected it like it was nothing. Zen threw out his swords to intercept her before she got too far away and closed the distance. Unlike the trees, she caught his sword and deflected the lightsaber, changing directions and rushing at him now. He reached out with the force and gripped his saber, igniting it as he caught it and met her sword in a vicious grudge match. Zen struggled to push against her and keep his balance, having to dig his heels deep into the ground to keep from being pushed backwards. She was strengthening herself with her own force power and draining his at the same time. His frail body depended on the force too much and he was weakening fast.

She smashed through the grudge then, disarming Zen in one swift swipe of her captured sword and gripped Zen with the force, raising him into the air. He felt the air in his lungs dragged out and his body started to suffocate. She brought him close, face to face with her golden mask. He struggled against her crushing will, trying to look away, trying to fight back, trying to do anything, but it was no use. She was far too strong.

She rammed his own sword through his gut, piercing his armor and running him through. Blood filled his mouth and she reached up to take his helmet off, seeing his battered face as blood ran down his chin. He managed to spit out the blood onto her mask, and she responded by twisting the blade.

____

Zen woke up in the Harpoon screaming, his heart beating too fast for his own good. He patted his stomach, still screaming, and finally stopped when he realized that he wasn't injured at all. His arms weren't scorched either. He couldn't stabilize his breathing, stuck in a panic attack that he couldn't bring himself out of. He rolled out of his bed and stripped off his clothing, inspecting himself for damage. He finally started to calm down as he saw that all the normal scars that he had accumulated over the years were still there.

His breath still shakey, he stumbled out of the med room, entirely naked, and made his way for his room. Everything was definitely not as he had left it. There was new furniture, decorative weapons on the walls and everything was CLEEEEEAN. It's like somebody went through the ship and spit shined everything. Last he remembered, it was tipped on it's side and everything was broken. He must have been out for longer than he thought.

He got into his room and fell down for a moment, realizing that his legs were weak from not moving them for however long he was out. "Now, seriously?!" He groaned before trying to gather up the force to make himself better. It took several times as long for him to do so. As he lay on the floor, barely cognative and trying to recover, he tried to remember what happened. They had crashed and he walked out of the ship and face planted into a coma. He couldn't figure out why for several moments, but as his leg strength finally returned and he could stand again, it hit him. "Oh void this planet is devoid of the force. Fuck. Me. Sideways."

He shambled over to his closet and opened it up. His clothing and armor was cleaned and repaired. "Who in the hell has touched my-oh fuck it." He ignored the thoughts and dawned his armor. He found his lightsabers on a dresser in the corner, a dresser that he noted was WAY better than it was before, and raced out of the room. He went down the hall and ran by Iisska's door and stopped for a moment, looking at his darksaber.

He ran down stairs and found his swoop bike in the same condition he had left i-"NOOO. THERE'S A SCRATCH. IT'S JUNKED. FUCK. AUUUGH. SCREW IT." He mounted it and found the on switch. It took a few seconds for it to kick on and he revved it to make sure it worked. Detecting the vehicle readying to leave, the Harpoon automatically opened the hanger door. Zen didn't wait for it to open fully before he burst out, landing with a hard thud against the grass, right next to where Marquis was sitting with the puppy. The two looked at each other for only a moment before Zen shot off into the forest.

"Well. It has been a while since I have seen Iisska thrown into a raging fury...this is...definitely going to do that." Marquis sighed, watching the gray sith disappear into the distance.

In Iisska's room, however. Placed neatly in the middle of his bed, was a gift. Zen's darksaber.

___________
Stepping into the open-aired blacksmith shop, Nyrette swooned over the assortment of blades that were on display against the stone walls. Swords of many types and sizes, though she regained her composure and went over them more carefully. She had to choose a nice blade to train Quin with. A balanced blade that would ring true to her personality and be well balanced, well suited towards her build and to her-Found it! She grabbed a Sturdy Falchion from the wall. She turned towards the master smith, whom was starting to approach her to do business with her, and she spoke. "How much for this?" She said. "Twenty one sovereigns." He said, crossing his arms. "Hmm...I'll take it, but I'm not quite ready yet." She said, looking around. She looked around some more, trying to find a sword for herself. Her rapier was nice, but it didn't have enough weight for her to actually take anything down. She looked up and down, staying within sight of the master smith, and couldn't find anything. That is...until she saw the blade that hung proudly over the Forge.

"Oh! Is that one for sale?" She yelled to the master, pointing at the golden saw-sword above him. "Is is, but I doubt you can afford it. It is an antique. Razor sharp and could slice through a warg's neck in one swipe. Six platinum." She looked excited when she fished her hand into her pocket and pulled out the coins the old woman had given her.

"Can I bundle both swords?" She said, much to the blacksmith's surprise.

Just a few minutes later, she had finally found Quin and Cynthia walking out of a small cafe with a small bag of dough rings and a couple tins of coffee. "Oh, hello Nyrette. I had told Pike of this shop that had exquisite pastries and coffee and...I had...convinced her to try." She said, a little blush in her face.

Earlier

"Oh, Pike!" Cynthia said. "While you're here, you simply must try their pastries. Delebor sent me into town several times to pick up orders from there and they are simply delectable! You must try!" Even though Quin said that they needed to get only the important things, she unfortunately found herself being dragged to the cafe anyway.

Present

Cynthia nervously chuckled a bit as Nyrette just smiled and shook her head. "Hey, got you a present for when we get home." She said, presenting Quin the Falchion. "Once we get back, I'm going to start training you on how to use a sword. Figured that I should buy you one while we're here."

Quin took the sword from her gently and then slowly removed it from the scabard. The steel had a rippling effect like an oil spill across its surface.

"It's gorgeous," she said awestruck, "You didn't have to-- Thank you. I'll put it to good use."

Quin gave the falchion a good swish to test how the weight felt in her hand. It was a little bit heavy, but she figured that wouldn't be a problem once she had some decent practice with it. And it helped that she had a great teacher. With a smile she sheathed the sword and scooped Nyrette up into a big hug.

"Hey, hey," she said, hugging her back. "It's not a problem. It might serve you a little better than your knife while we're here. Get good enough and I'll see if we can find you a good vibrosword when we get back." She said with a smile.

"Vibro-sword?" Cynthia said, curious. "What is that?"

"It's a special type of sword that vibrates at a special frequency that lets it cut anything cleaner than any normal blade. They also work with knives as well." She said, gesturing to Quin once she let her go to show Cynthia her knife. She nodded and pulled it out, letting Cynthia play with it for a moment and make the blade pop out.

"Oh wow. You can't see it, but it's actually moving at incredible speed. I can barely keep up...would you mind if I looked at it more closely?" She said, smiling. Quin shrugged and nodded. Cynthia held the knife in her hand and closed her eyes. Her hand turned to liquid like it did in the estate several days ago and the knife sunk in. A few moments later it reappeared in her palm and she handed it back. It wasn't damaged in the least. "Thank you," Cynthia said.

"What did you do?" Nyrette said, curious.

"Watch." She spread the fingers of her right hand and jerked her forearm a bit. In less than a half second her arm had taken the form of a razor sharp curved longsword. "You can't see it, but my arm is vibrating like your knife. It's harder to maintain but I think I'll be able to cut through anything like your knife now."

"You can do that to both your arms?" Nyrette said.

"Yes." Cynthia replied.

"That...that's actually really badass. Why didn't you mention this before?!" Nyrette exclaimed excitedly.

"Did not see it as important." Cynthia shrugged.

"Wait 'till Cheshik sees this. He's going to blow a gasket...Iisska too." Nyrette sighed.

Just as she finished saying that, a small cadre of heavily armed and armored guards approached them, brandishing their weapons.

"The three of you are under arrest," The guard said calmly.

"What are the charges!?" Quin screamed at him.

The rest of his squad were busy detaining Nyrette and Cynthia and keeping her from biting the officer's face off. Their weapons and goods had bee seized.

"Ma'am, I need you to keep your voice down," the officer sighed.

"Then tell me the fucking charges!" Quin yelled louder.

People were starting to stare. The guard looked around and put a hand on his hip.

"Two of the companions you entered the city with have been arrested for illegal underground fighting." he said, "You're being brought in for questioning until we can determine if you were accomplices."

"What? How can we be accomplice to our own friends beating each other senseless?!" Quin asked.

"We simply need to bring you in for questioning." He said calmly.

Quin's mouth pressed into a paper-thin line, her face began to turn red and an uneasy silence fell over the entire scene. She stopped struggling and allowed one of the guards to bind her wrists like they had done to Nyrette and Cynthia. Quin could hear Nyrette asking her something from far, far away. Asking if she was alright. Yet her words were so muffled as if under water. No. As if under the ocean of blood that was currently flooding Quin's mind as the very fabric of her mental state ruptured under the devastating and explosive weight of unbridled rage being turned inward on itself. Her inner tempest ebbed just enough for her to realize that her eye was twitching violently and a single drop of blood had trickled out of her nose.

"I'm fine," she managed to whisper, "Might be some problems later, but nobody will miss him."

They allowed themselves to be lead to a large fortress close to the center of the city and the massive radio tower that rose up above everything. This fortress was a sort of primitive prison. The windows were sparse and barred and razor wire lined the walls. Escaping would be extremely dangerous. Quin didn't think it would have to come to that. She desperately hopped it wouldn't come to that. Once inside, the three of them were paraded through a sort of check-in and then lead to a small cell surrounded in brick and iron bars where they were roughly dumped inside.

"Our inquisitor is occupied. You will stay here until he comes to retrieve you," One of the guards said.

"Are you serious!?" Quin snapped, "We were nowhere near them when they were arrested. We had nothing to do with this."

"If that's true, then you have nothing to worry about. He may even decide not to torture you," the guard shrugged and locked the cell.

"Torture is an inhumane and despicable means of interrogation," Quin spat.

The guard looked at her with a raised brow and walked away shaking his head.

Quin's breathing had been steady but it slowly sped up and she began to clench her fists so hard that her nails bit into the palms of her hands. Suddenly and explosively she let out a furious scream and threw herself down into the corner, pulled her knees to her chest and buried her hands in her face.

"I'm going to kill them," she moaned, "Fucking idiots!"

White light so bright he couldn’t blink it out of his eyes dug into his skull. Dizzying pain and freezing cold blocked out everything else.

Why can’t I move? Why can’t I feel anything? Where’s my body? Where is that fucking light coming from?

After what felt like forever, he could feel his fingertips. He wiggled them and drug them across cold stone until he was able to throw his arm over his eyes. Feeling spread quickly through his shoulder, torso and unfortunately the rest of his body. The cold, the soreness, and the brutal pressure in his nose and mouth increased tenfold. Everything was spinning. Why was everything spinning? Stop spinning.

Iisska rolled over and curled into a ball on the jail cell floor. He opened his eyes. He could see the stones, mortar and rickety wooden bench all completely out of focus and blurring away to one side.

“Make it stoooop,” he groaned.

“Look who finally came ‘round,” he heard someone say, “Good thing too, was starting to think you went and killed ‘im.”

“Why bother? We’re already in prison,” someone else muttered.

“For illegal gambling. Not murder,” the other one replied, “Much less prison, much less bail, much less getting executed.”

“Eh, starting to wish they would just kill me anyway.”

Their horrible voices were like nails on a chalkboard. A banshee screeching nonsense. They didn’t need to talk. There was no reason to subject him to such a nightmare.

“Stop talking,” Iisska hissed, “Oh, fff--”

His lungs and stomach rolled around each other with the effort of speaking. He struggled to get himself upright and propped up on his knees and elbows, forehead still planted on the ground.

“Oi, lay down,” one of them said, “You’re concussed, don’t--”

It was too late. Iisska pushed himself back slowly, to sit on his heels and immediately curled back up. His scrambled brain and insides had, had enough and he promptly puked his guts out onto the floor.

“Oh for the love of--!! Not again! Come on with this!” they yelled.

When Iisska was done he managed to drag himself away and slump back onto his butt with his back against the wall. Across the cell he saw two men. The first one was standing. He was well dressed in a long coat and bits of leather armor, had neat, shoulder-length red hair, pulled half up in a clip. He sighed and began to beat his forehead against the bars of the cell while cursing under his breath. The second man was on the ground slouching against the opposite wall so much his back almost touched the ground. His knees were pulled up, his arms were crossed across his stomach. It was the scruffy-looking, punch-throwing, goatee-sporting, pretty boy boxer from… How long ago was that fight? What time was it? How long had they been in here? How did they get here? The only saving grace to Iisska’s onset of bitterness and anger was the fact that his rival was covered in grime and blood and sat next to his own puddle of vomit.

“Don’t yell,” the boxer winced.

“Yeah,” Iisska forced an agreement.

“I’m stuck in here for who knows how long and now it stinks and is a mess,” the one standing up retorted, “I’ll yell as I please. Damn it all, when are they going to bloody let us out of here?”

“We’re in jail?” Iisska asked feebly.

“And you still have some cognitive ability,” he rolled his eyes, “Congratulations.”

There was a long silence as the man turned away to pace the bars and mumble.

“S- So, we are in jail then? Did that mean ‘yes?’” Iisska had to clarify.

“Yes! Look with your eyes!” he snapped at him.

“Luke,” the one on the floor groaned, “Calm down. And if you don’t stop that yelling I’m going to cut your voice box.”

Iisska shuddered and curled tighter. He pulled his knees to his chest and closed his eyes.

“Where’s Cheshik?” he asked.

“Who?” the standing man asked.

“The… my…” Iisska started.

“The other outlander,” the man on the floor answered, “Big lizard guy. Haven’t seen him.”

“That is because I was using winnings to pay off freedom.” The boys heard Cheshik’s voice as he walked around the corner. He had an angsty guard with him that looked like he was ready to pull out his sword and cut somebody for releasing these three. He opened the door to the cell and let the boys go.

“Get of here and don’t let me catch you three in anymore drug rings.” The guard said, barely holding composure.

“And avoid Quin and Nyrette. They were taken too because they know us. They...are not happy.” Cheshik said quietly.

Iisska shot up and stumbled out of the cell door, “You… How!?”

The clean-cut man cleared his throat and bowed slightly, “You have our thanks.”

The group hastily made their way out of the prison as it was starting to get dark out. With nothing left to do, they made their way into a bar to wait out the night.

What they had chosen was a complex of humble buildings including a large inn, a couple small shacks and a mostly open stable with a sort of awning over the stalls and posts. There were a few torches burning on the outside but more warm light filtered out through dingy windows on both the lower and upper floors of the inn. Wagons and beasts of burden were huddled about the stable. Most belonged to travelers and merchants who found the current hustle and bustle of the inner streets of the festive city to be too much for them. There was a strange variety of animals tied and munching away on feed the likes of which the outlanders had never seen before. No wonder Kobel and Snickers had drawn little attention.

The lower floor was dominated by a large pub, currently full to the brim with travelers. Their voices were boisterous and mugs and cookware clanked and crashed at the tables where drunks were laughing and arguing in their tight groups. Most of them were men and most of them looked more rough around the edges than the city dwelling locals. The heavy, iron hinged double doors creaked open loudly and swung shut with a hard THUD. Everyone looked toward the entryway and the entire pub went silent aside from a lost cough and a few murmurs. Tristan swallowed and ignored the looks while dragging the outlanders behind him into a corner of the pub.

"OI! The lot of you get back to drinkin'!" a shrill female voice shouted from behind the bar.

The patrons did as they were told and conversation picked back up quickly, albeit a bit more hushed than before. Luke was kicked back at a small table hidden away out of most of the light in the large room. Tristan practically threw himself into the seat next to him and put an "accidental" elbow into his brother's arm.

The four spent a good chunk of the night ordering various drinks and food from the establishment, each having their fill and even getting a little tipsy. Least, Cheshik was from his misunderstanding of the local alcohol. Didn't seem to affect Iisska that much.

At one point, Tristain placed down his mug with understanding.

"So that's pretty much it," Tristan shrugged, "Just decided to walk into the fight?"

"I'd venture to say it's a bit more than that," Luke rolled his eyes.

"Basically." Iisska asked.

"Can't be a mere coincidence," Tristan said.

"Regardless, in the morning we need to get far away from here. We aren't exactly popular in this town and I think the town guards are going to have us under permanent watch after this. I don't suppose I could talk you two into helping us do that," Tristan looked at them expectantly, "We could arrange some sort of payment."

"Eh, well, we can't leave without the crew. We left the girls back in the city," Iisska winced, "And I would much rather they never find out about this."

"There are more of you?" Tristan asked, "Oh, outlanders are a bit... Well with you... you know with us... the guards..."

"They're more than likely fine," Luke interrupted, "I'm sure they'll come looking for you and we can catch them on the road."

"Oh Iisska." Cheshik said, sipping on a bigger than average mug to match his large stature. "They most probably know now. Do as I do, and enjoy last drink in living world." He downed the tankard of ale and ordered another, placing a small tip with the gold when the waitress came over. She was as tall as Cheshik was but a quarter as wide. She looked trandoshan, but she was...off. A longer snout, smoother scales, and a full length tail. She winked at Cheshik before departing to return with his drink.

Cheshik nudged Tristain, a question on his brain. "What race is that?" He motioned towards the lizard woman. "She like mine, Trandoshan, but not..." Tristain looked at Cheshik like he was a madman that was too drunk to be alive, but then remembered that he was outlander and was different. He called them "Tsurask" and said that they were rather common. Cheshik pursed his mouth a little and nodded. "Well. Won't feel like only scalie in room now." He chuckled and downed some more of his drink before Tristain realized something and asked what the girls would do without them.

"The ladies will be fine. They stronger than any man in room. Beside, I told Pike to meet us on trail back to home if we get separated." Cheshik said.

____

The following morning, after lying low for a bit and sneaking their way out of the city just before dawn, they were on the road back to the ship, moving slowly with Kobel and Snickers. They has properly introduced one another the previous night and were now just making their way towards the tree line rather slowly, only slightly impatient to leave.

"You don't think they stuck in-" Before Cheshik could finish that sentence, Nyrette ran past him with Quin right at her back. She leaped up to Iisska and jump-tackled him right off of Kobel. "You bastard!" She yelled, placing her hands around his neck and starting to wring it. "Quin told you not to get in trouble and what do you do?! GET IN BLOODY TROUBLE. What happens when you get in BLOODY TROUBLE?!" She yelled as Quin tried to pull her off of him. "WE. GET. ARRESTED. AND-" She was pulling and pushing his head against the ground. "I. GET. HIT. ON. BY. SIX. GUARDS. AND. MY. GIRL. FRIEND. GETS. HIT. ON. BY. ANOTHER. WOMAN. I. HATE. YOU."

The twins had been resigned to slack-jawed staring as the screaming, choked gasping, and limb flailing spectacle unfolded before them. Iisska was beginning to turn blue and desperately trying to spit out words through a crushed voice box while failing to push a woman half his size off himself. Even Quin's best efforts did nothing to dislodge Nyrette. Kobel nervously ran circles around them, prancing and nuzzling the pile of angry outlanders, unsure if he should use any sort of violence to save his master.

"Oh," Tristan said quietly, "Should we help him? I mean this is partially our fault."

"Mm. She seems to be on there pretty tight. I don't think there's much of anything we can do at this point that wouldn't make it worse," Luke shrugged.

"True, true. I suppose we don't even know these girls or the whole story and it would be rude for a few nobodies to interrupt a reunion," Tristan nodded.

Nyrette's screaming had devolved into insane splintered threats and single grunted words and her grip only seemed to get tighter. She even dug her knees sharply into her prey's sides to further thwart Quin who was practically dragging them both along the ground as she applied all her strength. Iisska arched and kicked and struggled and then made a horrible rasping noise while frantically pointing at them.

"Then again I would much rather not be privy to a murder on top of all the rest of this trouble," Luke mused.

"They won't kill him," Tristan rolled his eyes, "Will they?"

Cheshik jumped off Snickers and was yelling at Nyrette to stop. He dove into the fray and yanked her up by her shoulders. Nyrette stopped for a moment. Then let go of Iisska and lunged at Cheshik with entirely renewed fury. Luckily, Quin still had her by the waist and wheeled her around away from the boys with a strained yell.

"Stop! Stop!," Quin begged, "Nyrette! Calm down!"

Iisska rolled pathetically onto his side drooling and gasping and struggling to catch his breath while Kobel stood over him.

"Hey don't we know her?" Tristan asked.

"That's the woman who got a bit 'friendly' with you yesterday when you tried to get rid of the book. How do you forget something like that?" Luke said.

Tristan blushed deeply and coughed, "Right! Right. I didn't forget. I just..."

"I think we should take this as an opportunity to leave. These people are too much trouble."

"Nonsense," Tristan dismounted, "This just needs a civil touch is all."

He walked right up to Quin with her arm-full of out-of-control-girlfriend and bowed politely. She was not impressed.

"Excuse me, ladies," there was an extra suave lilt to his voice, "There has been a complete misunderstanding. Your, eh, friends, saved us from a terrible fate and--"

"YOU!" Quin snarled at him. A wild look of realization came across her face.

"Me?" Tristan pointed at himself.

There was no time to react. Nyrette was loose. Quin had balled up her fist and laid into Tristan's face so hard he was sent sprawling on the ground in a cloud of dust.

"So. Was fun, yes?"

Cheshik tried to start up a conversation as the group walked with their creatures on the lightly paved road heading away from the city. The animals were loaded with supplies and food for a few months of survival. Cynthia rode on Kobel, keeping him steady while Iisska lead the way with Snickers in tow, Quin and Nyrette riding her.

"Shut. Up." Iisska said.

Both the twins were bruised from Quin's fury. Tristain in particular had the worst of it with a possibly broken ripb and one of his eyes swollen shut from Quin's haymaker. Iisska and Cheshik's necks were bruised from Nyrette's stranglehold while their ribs were bruised from where she had planted her knees. Girl had power behind her small frame.

"Well. I think was fun." Cheshik said after a moment of silence. Iisska repeated the order from one ofthe twins.

"He's right though. It was fun." Nyrette said smiling happily.

"The trip to the ship should be much faster this time now that we are much lighter and aren't dragging a pesky cart behind us." Cynthia said. "Which reminds me. Did you get your friend...um..." She went silent for a moment as her mind went a flutter. She realized that she never learned his name.

"Marquis?" Nyrette said.

"Your silver skinned friend? Yes. Him." She said, blushing at having yet to learn his name.

"Yeah. I found a nice rapier just before we left. I think he'll like it since he said he's always admired fencing but has never had the chance to apply it." She said then paused for a moment. "That reminds me actually."

She jumped off of Snickers and jogged up beside Kobel. She fished a small pouch of coin from her backside and threw it up to Cynthia, whom caught it without an issue. "What is this for?" She asked.

"It's the left over money from today. Iisska mentioned that we should give it to you when we left and I agreed, as did Pike." Nyrette said with a smirk.

"Oh sure. Fail to mention lizard that gave most money to pool." Cheshik complained.

"YOU DON'T HAVE THE RIGHT TO SP-" Nyrette calmed herself and stared at him. "Shush, Cheshik."

"Yes mom." Cheshik frowned.

Cynthia held the bag in her hands and trembled a bit before handing it back to Nyrette. "N-No. I mustn't. I'm just a servant." Nyrette handed the back right back and spoke with a more determined attitude behind her.

"Nonsense. You're part of the crew now-" Nyrette was interrupted.

"FAMILY!" Cheshik yelled

"FAMILY NOW." Nyrette corrected herself, swearing to stab in his sleep tonight. "And you deserve a fair cut. Especially since CHESHIK ransacked your home for furniture." She finished.

"Admit, Nyrette. You have never slept in better way since bed taking." Cheshik said. He had a follow up statement but Quin hit him in the head with a left over vase that was determined to be worthless. He kindly shut his face then.

"T-thank you..." She said, holding the bag and watching Nyrette rejoin Quin. The bag jingled and jangled in Cynthia's hand She surmised that there was a couple pieces of platinum in the bag too. She felt conflicted on the inside, still attached to what she was but a few days ago. Her emotions were raging constantly. To the point to where she wanted to act out on nearly everything anybody said to her and elicited an emotional response. The guard from earlier made her want to break down and either weep or shed his blood. Or both. She took a deep breath to try and calm herself, but the rustling in the bushes off of the road stopped any chance of that happening.

A few bandits popped out of the bushes with bows at the ready to fire. They were all in pieced together leather and metal armor, looking like they had done nothing but fight one another and crawl through mud for a living. One walked forward with a short sword in hand, looking worse than the lot of them. He had a very gravelly voice and spoke with a badly imitated accent. "Listen 'ear govnahs. Yous be givin' over all the coin and dem pretty ladies sos and we'll be on our merry way. Ors else!" He raised his sword, opening his lips into a smile but with nary ten rotten teeth in his head he looked more like a simpleton than a threat.

"Now gentleman." Nyrette said dismounting from Snickers just before the others did. "Are you really go-"

"We ain't discussin' this with the likes of ya, wench. You. Mutant." He pointed at Cheshik as he grabbed his battle axe from Snickers' side. "Will ye be doin' as we say or not?!"

Nyrette was livid to say the least. She was just reaching for Quin's crossbow when Cynthia walked calmly past, placing a hand on her shoulder then stepping in line with Cheshik as he and Iisska came closer to the bandits. "Excuse me?" Cheshik said.

"I SAYS. Surrendah your coins and women ors else!" The leader said, clearly an illiterate.

Cheshik held his axe in hands and tensed up a bit. "Now ares yous reallys wantins tos dos thats?" he mocked him. The leader too offense and the boys readied themselves for a fight. But Cynthia spoke up.

"Might I handle this one, Cheshik?" She said. "I have not been able to show what I can do yet." Cheshik looked to Iisska next to him, whom looked worried but shrugged and put up his fists for some clobbering. Cheshik swiveled back to Cynthia and nodded.

"Ares you done?!" He questioned just before Cynthia leapt into action, her lower arms turning into twin blades of fury and offing the head of the leader in one clean slash, sending it spiraling through the air to land on the ground with a thud. Arrows flew from the others, but they were already moving towards the bandits.

Cynthia felt a few arrows pierce through her dress and hit her skin, but the bows that the bandits were using was weak enough that they didn't pierce and she was able to get close to them and chop them down in an instant, her blades slicing their their weak armor and bones with easy swipes and leaving them in pieces on the ground. Cheshik did the same to a few more as well as others that popped up from behind cover, blades already drawn. "Seems that this ambush was more like a gang attack!" Cynthia yelled as she closed in on more near Iisska and impaled them without a thought.

Iisska back-peddled away from the impaled man. He couldn't seem to get far enough fast enough. The abrupt and grizzly termination to what began as a graceful, albeit blood soaked display of unexpected martial skill shocked him out of mesmerization. Now he only felt a sick churning in his gut.

Cheshik was still busy finishing what Cynthia had started. After a few men fell at his hands, the remaining archers and highwaymen scattered into the trees and surrounding fields. Everything stilled in a dizzying aftermath. The screams and clatter of skirmish were now replaced by a distant, solitary and melodic bird call.

Iisska clenched his fists and shook them out, shifted his weight on his feet and took a deep breath with a sharp exhale. His eyes couldn't help but dart over the dying, bloody corpses in the road, but with every pass they locked right back onto her. His muscles and jaw were clenched tight.

"What. Was that?" he asked.

Quin stepped up with deliberate caution. The twins whispered between themselves behind her in harsh, short snippets. It would seem everyone was rightly taken aback and not just from being accosted by ruffians. She was admittedly expecting a sort of negotiation rather than a fight, nay, a slaughter. Before she could pass by Iisska to go to Cynthia, he held out his arm and stopped her. She shot him a look, but stopped. He was positively seething.

"Hey, everything is fine," Quin started, "Calm down and let's just--"

"Look at this!" Iisska snapped, "Every fucking place we go!"

"Iisska, this is not the time," she said.

He looked appalled and shook his head.

"Whatever! Because bring another crazy murder machine with us! Who will notice!?"

"What did you expect?"

The pair of them turned. Luke had stepped spoken up and stepped toward the confused stares.

"You took the mask off of a homunculus," he spoke again, "I assumed you had some other way of controlling it, but you keep treating it like it's a human. You have no idea what you've done, do you?"

On the edge of the conversation, Cynthia stood and let her arms melt back into hands, the blood sliding off like it was on glass. She cleaned herself quickly, hearing the words they were saying and feeling a deep shame coming over her. "Another crazy murder machine...." She whispered, unable to contain her thoughts this time. Nyrette's voice pierced the tension.

"What do you mean 'You have no idea what you've done, do you?'" She mocked Luke. "Thus far, she's proven that she's closer to human than most of the people we've met today." She stood next to Quin. Cynthia approached but kept her distance from Iisska, seeing that he was extremely uncomfortable and disturbed. "I-I apologize." She tried to say. "I did what..."

"Don't apologize to them," Quin cut her off, "There was going to be a fight regardless."

"A fight. Not a carving contest," Iisska argued.

"A carving contest would be something Zen would do. This was a simple and clean kill. In case you don't remember, Vibroswords do the same kind of cutting." Nyrette retorted.

"Not my point," he said, "These jackasses were entry level chumps. That was overkill."

"Haemonculi don't have a limit. When they set out to do something it is done quickly and to completion even if their means go far beyond human sensibilities. There is no grey area. You can't reign them back in. You can't tell them to tone it down. It doesn't work that way," Luke crossed his arms.

"To speak of Haemonculi like that, is almost same as if speaking of droid." Cheshik said, approaching as he cleaned his halberd blade of blood. "Remind me of when first droid began to gain life, understand death. See what love and loss is. Before, they were servant, as I am sure you want Cynthia to be." He said, shouldering the halberd. "Luke. You are very wrong."

The man's eyes narrowed and he sized Cheshik up very carefully.

"Pardon me, but a what?" he asked quietly.

"A...Auto-matron? Quin, remind me of word." Cheshik said.

"Automaton," She quipped.

"Yes. Automaton. Marquis in home is droid. His skin metal, but heartbeat is true like warrior. Same is said of Cynthia, but skin is just very very hard, not metal," He finished.

Luke looked around at the group in shock and even Tristan perked up at the mention of such a thing.

"Seriously?" Tristan asked.

"No," Luke snapped, "You people are raising golems and giving them names and souls now too? What is wrong with you outlanders?"

"Golem?" Cheshik said.

"Regardless." Nyrette spoke before Luke said anything else. "If you don't like how we handle ourselves, you can take yourselves that a-way." She pointed away from them and towards the road. "I'm sure the guards would love to hit on you and your lover too." She would have glared if she had eyes.

"Wait no!" Tristan interrupted and ran forward, "I wanna see this thing. Also, ew. Also, guards. Also..."

He wrapped an arm around his brother's shoulders and turned him away from the group for another argumentative whispering match. Luke straightened and huffed out of his nose and looked like he was going to strangle someone. Tristan looked like an overexcited child.

“Come on. For me. Please?” Tristan begged, “I know you’re interested too. Don’t lie. Liars go to--”

“Fine!” Luke spat.

He turned around to the group once more and tried his best to relax.

“I’m s-- sr-- I’m sorry. I was out of line and we would very much like to meet this… ‘droid?’ If you would allow us,” he said.

Nyrette crossed her arms and gave Tristan a smug look. “I’m not sure.” She said finally. “I’ll let you see Marquis if…” She pointed at luke. “If he apologizes to Cynthia and mean it.”

“I already did, just now,” Luke said.

“Don’t you take this away from me,” Tristan threatened, “Just do it. Look at this freak show-- Ahg, I mean… Lovely people… How exciting is this?”

“Ya know, because of the freak show bit, now you both have to kiss her hand and apologize really nicely.” Nyrette smirked.

“Doooo it. Doooo it. Doooo it! Doooo it!” Cheshik chanted.

“I would be honored,” Tristan put on his best grin and urged his brother on.

He strode up to Cynthia with only a few long, graceful steps and went down on one knee. He took her hand in his so very gently and looked up into her eyes.

“My lady,” his words were soft and elegant, “Please accept our most sincere apologies.”

Then he kissed her hand.

She was very embarrassed. Enough to want to just hide because of all the hate towards her from the boys yet the love from the girls and Cheshik. Again, she was presented with an inability to know how to deal with the emotions. In the end, she just patted Tristan on the head.

“You too, Luukyloo.” Nyrette chimed.

“I will not be responding to that demeaning pet name,” Luke said as he walked past her.

He too took Cynthia’s hand and looked her in the eye, but did not smile nor kneel like his showboating fool of a twin.

“Please accept my apology. I’ll be keeping a tighter reign on my tongue,” he said.

He placed a quick peck on the back of her hand before dropping it.

“That was adorable,” Tristan giggled.

“Don’t talk to me,” Luke growled.

“L-lets just...get out of here…” Cynthia said, quickly scooting away in embarrassment.

Once the group finished with their bloody festivities, they made their way back to the animals, whom had promptly dumped most of the items the gear that was on their backs out of boredom and was playing with one another in the field next to the road. After some scolding from both Cheshik and Iisska, they reloaded the gear and headed off again towards the ship.

The entire trip however, Cynthia avoided Iisska's gaze. She was embarrassed and mortified of herself. To her, she saw an alien. An outlander that had seen what the stars were like and experienced things she couldn't even dream of. He was fascinating and she had driven him to sheer uncontrollable rage because...

"Another crazy murder machine..." she whispered to herself. From in front, riding on Snickers' back, Nyrette craned her head after having heard Cynthia's hushed words.

"What?" She said, finally.

"N-no. Nothing." Cynthia said quietly.

Nyrette wasn't convinced. It was obvious that the Haemonculus wasn't accustomed to hiding her emotions from her face. Nyrette could see that she was distraught. She hopped off of snickers and snuck back to walk with her. "What's wrong?" She didn't respond.

"Is this about earlier?" Nyrette said. Cynthia's eyes darted away for a moment. "Don't worry about it. Iisska's just going through a lot what with Zen being in a coma and everything." She smiled.

"How...how do you control yourself?" Cynthia said, wringing her hands.

"What do you mean?" Nyrette replied.

"Your...feelings. How do you control them?" Her cheeks glowed a slight blue, embarrassment marring them.

"My feelings? I...just do. I never let them take over my life. You...must be going through just as much as Iisska since taking off your mask. God, no wonder you went nuts against the bandits." Nyrette bit her lip, realizing that Cynthia was a ticking time bomb.

She looked towards the ground and took a deep breath. "I'll be fine. I'll learn to manage my emotions more easily." She smiled at Nyrette. The nervousness Nyrette felt in the pit of her stomach only grew a little more when she saw Cynthia's attitude change.

"Um. Alright then." She shrugged and went back to Snickers' back with Quin, whom had been listening in on the conversation. She ended up holding Quin's hand for the duration of the trip back.

The rest of the trip back went rather quickly now that the animals had traveled it once before and they didn't have to deal with a back full of supplies. The food held together nicely on Kobel's back while Snickers carried the weapons, gear, and alcohol. They even managed to pick up a few tools while they were in town too. Not great tools, but good replacements for the bits of metal that Iisska called tools.

It was nearing sundown when they finally stopped and dismounted the animals. The day had gone from a bright and sunny to an overcast, blotting own the sun and leaving them with a bright grey that threatened to turn into rain. A mist had rolled in from the lake as well, though Cheshik had no trouble finding his way into it to finally take a bath.

"Marquis! We're back!" Nyrette yelled. Not soon after she yelled Marquis came down the ship ramp looking angry as ever.

"So." Marquis started. "Trip go alright?"

"Yeah. Here. From all of us." Nyrette fished out the Rapier that she had bought for him in town and handed it to him.

"Oh my." He exclaimed, his eye turning bright yellow as his mood finally lifted a bit as he handled the blade. "How did you know that I had been trained to use a sword?"

"You seemed like the kind of person whom would know." She replied.

"You were right." He exclaimed as he slashed the air with it a few times to test it before returning it to the sheath. "Thank you."

"Anything happen while we were out?" She said as she started to unpack the supplies with Iisska."

"WELL." He placed his hands on his hip. "I have...great news and horrible news!" He coughed. "A lot of the ship's facilities came back online. The thrusters and turrets will not respond, but I did check the pipes and electrical systems. A lot made it through the crash and bathrooms are running as well as everything in the lounge...Zen really made that room indestructible...speaking of which."

Marquis paused for a moment to watch Cheshik yell and jump out of the lake to race to the ship and take a long hot shower. Nyrette clicked her fingers in front of his face a few times. "What's the horrible news?"

"Um...how to put this lightly...." He looked at Iisska. "Not my fault, I do not know what prompted it or what happened to him but...."

"But?" Nyrette frowned.

"Zen woke up." Marquis said flatly. "He got his speeder working and took off into the forest. This was a day after you left. I do not know where he went."

____

Meanwhile. On the floor of a bar nearly a hundred miles away in the middle of nowhere.

Zen lay on the floor, a flagon of ale still in his steel grip, face down and passed out. His head shot up with a snort and a gasp. "Fuck me. Cheshik'll be pissed." He put his head back down and went back to sleep.

After a drawn out, awkward silence Iisska finally managed a stifled, “Oh.”

“Oh.” Nyrette echoed Iisska’s reaction. “He just...took off?”

“That is the gist of it, yes.” Marquis sighed.

“Did he say anything?” Iisska asked, “At all?”

“No. The ramp lowered while I was out here cleaning up and before it even touched down he took off on his speeder. I never had the chance to ask him where he was going,” said Marquis.

“If it isn’t one thing then it’s another,” Quin shrugged, “I’m sure he’ll return soon… With half the country chasing down his head.”

“Or more drunk than Cheshik on his birthday,” Nyrette chuckled and went back to gathering up the supplies and organizing them in the ship.

“What in the shitting hell is that?” Tristan spewed, standing some safe distance away from the pile of twisted metal that used to be the Harpoon, “Don’t tell me you live in that thing. It looks like it’s going to collapse.”

“Do not be rude, stranger.” Marquis quipped upon hearing the insult. “Iisska has done a good job with the ship. Also. Quin. Who are they? I thought I said no more pets. We have enough mouths to feed.” Marquis crossed his arms.

“Yes. I agree. Iisska already eats more than Kobel.” Nyrette chuckled as she walked past with an arm full of alcohol.

“Mm,” Quin turned toward the twins, “A couple of hooligans our boys took an interest in and had Nyrette, Cynthia and myself arrested over. They insisted they meet you.”

The one with a beard had seemed to magically appear between Quin and Marquis and was offering the droid a hand to shake while his eyes darted all over his frame. The other remained behind but gawked at Marquis in a way that was excruciatingly uncomfortable.

“You’re the golem thing! Not like any I’ve ever heard of, but still,” Tristan blurted out.”

“What in the bloody hell is a golem?” Marquis questioned, “This one of them, Quin?”

She nodded and smirked.

“Excellent.” He held up his hand and flicked Tristan in the forehead. “Baaack with you. Back.” He flicked him again.
“Ow!” Tristan reeled back, “Ow! Damn it! What crawled up your arse!?”

“My fiance is unpowered and now the ship is too crowded to think straight. What do you think ‘crawled up me arse’” Marquis’ eye turned orange-ish red from the annoyance. “Plus, you and your rather dour looking brother behind you imprisoned my crewmates, So you deserved it.”

“Truth be told, the guards imprisoned them,” Tristan said well out of flicking range, “And we wouldn’t be here if stripes over there hadn’t tried to choke me out in the street.”

From inside the ship, Cheshik came strolling down with a towel wrapped around his waist. He joined the group, catching the last bit of what Tristan said. “To be fair.” He started. “You broke faces on one another in street. Both blames are on you and Iisska. Speaking which. Iisska?’ He waved his hand in front of the Togruta’s face. “You there, brother?”

“Don’t,” Iisska mumbled and stepped away. His gaze was finally broken from some fixed point in the distance, “You two. You know this place. You wanna stay, you want safety in numbers, you wanna wander around our stuff like tourists, then you work and you play nice. So sick of this shit.”

Nyrette came back out for a third trip, grabbing Quin by the arm out of a bit of annoyance so she could stop standing around and actually help put all the stuff in the fridge in the lounge. “And don’t even think of using the showers. Especially ours. One bit of boy-sauce in my shower and I’ll cut somebody.” Nyrette threatened.

“Deal,” Luke agreed.

“What’s a shower?” Tristan asked no one in particular.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Luke gave a short bow to Marquis and ignored the question, “What can we help with?”

Cheshik scooted away holding the towel up and came back a few moments later with two makeshift fireaxes. “We require wood that which is used for fire. Onward you go.” He handed over the axes.

“Ah,” Tristan grimaced and took the axe, “Right. Eh, we’re on it then! So, where are your clothes?”

“Can Trandoshan not enjoy time with toga towel?” Cheshik shrugged.

“Nnggehh, I suppose?” He backed away slowly, even more confused than before.

Luke was already long gone into the woods. Tristan quickly strode away in the wrong direction.

Inside the Harpoon, Iisska threw the door to Zen’s quarters off its runners. The bed was empty. Dressers and chests were left open and disheveled. An assortment of garments and various mementos lay around the floor. Somehow it felt like he was still here, like he was seconds away from jumping out of the shadows to yell at Iisska for being there or to spring some ridiculous and horrifying training drill on him. But it felt so empty. Zen was really gone.

He couldn’t be gone for very long though. He would be back. He had probably just gone to explore, to get adjusted to the world, to deal with the disconnection of the Force. He would be back. After he was done with whatever it was he was doing he would be back. He had to come back. It would only be a few days. A couple weeks at most.

A couple weeks at most, Iisska told himself as he left the room.

His head was spinning. He needed a bath. He needed to think. He needed to get organized. He needed to lay down. In a daze, he found his way to his own room and stripped off his jacket as he walked through the door and tossed it aside. They could hold the place down without Zen. They had done it before. It would be fine. After shutting the door and making sure it was locked he kicked off his boots and went to go throw himself on his bed. He wouldn’t worry about it. Soon everything would be back to normal. Iisska froze.

There in the center of the bed was a saber hilt.

He immediately recognized it. For what seemed like forever, he stood still and stared down at the thing. It belonged to Zen. He cherished those sabers like a part of himself. He wouldn’t just leave one behind. Not like this. But then again, they didn’t even work here. In this place they were just junk. Useless junk. No need to carry around dead weight. Iisska bent and picked it up. He turned it over in his hands. His fingertips ran over every detail. In his head he was millions of miles away in a different time.

It would be best if you didn’t come back. Ever.

What do you mean ‘no?’ You don’t even care, do you? Don’t give me your naive moral crap. If you’re not going to stand with me on this, then I don’t need you. I had better never see you again.

Oh, cutie, I know you want to help, but I can’t take you with me. These people, these jobs, this life, it would eat you alive. I need to work alone. To be honest, you’d just be dead weight. I’m sorry. Good luck out there.

Zen wasn’t planning on coming back. He had taken what he needed and ditched the rest. What good was a weapon that didn’t work? What good was a student who couldn’t fight? His grip on the saber hilt tightened. His lip curled.

When he had first met Zen he had slammed the man into a wall hard enough to leave a dent without even touching him. He remembered the look of sheer delight and excitement on his face when he exclaimed something about Iisska having, “the crazy gene.” The look of pride when he managed to get the unbridled wrecking-ball of his abilities under control on Bespin. When he insisted he be there with him in the fight on Geonosia.

Every time he needed them the most, they left.

“WELL FUCK YOU TOO!!” Iisska screamed.

He wheeled around and hurled the saber down into a chest next to his own hilt, the rough crystal he had never managed to cut, and hundreds of shattered shards. A testament to his failure. He slammed the lid shut and gave it hard kick into the wall.

“I DON’T NEED YOU, OR YOUR DAMN LEFT-OVERS, OR YOUR STUPID TRAINING!! ENJOY YOUR LIFE, JACKASS!!”

Iisska stormed out of his room and started running. Kobel caught up with him a few hundred yards away from the ship, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t stop until he was well out of sight of the ship, his lungs burned and stabbed with each breath and his legs refused to move anymore.

---

In the morning the rain was coming down in miserable bucket-fulls. Nobody was leaving the ship unless they wanted to play slip ‘n slide in the muddy swamp that was forming around the shore. Which is exactly what Iisska looked like he had been doing earlier. Bare footprints were tracked up the better part of the loading bay and bits of mud were showing up in most maintenance panels. Deep in the bowels of the ship the sounds of a blow torch had been churning away for a couple hours now. Hidden away behind piles of salvage he crouched, half-dressed, over severed fuel conduits that were slowly but surely being welded back together. He was caked in grime and drying mud from foot to mid thigh and in a thin smudged layer over the rest of him. He refused to look at the burned mess that was the rest of the engines. One step at a time. Build from the ground up. Don’t think about it.

Most of the morning, Cynthia had been trying to tidy up and clean up the mess from yesterday’s haul and the boys’ haul of wood, but she had been rather aimless. After her dress had been ruined by the bandits from the previous day, Nyrette had loaned her a pair of old clothing that barely fit her. Black and yellow in color, she felt a bit disgusting wearing it but it would do for the moment.

She was near the hanger when she started hearing the blowtorch from a back hallway. Curiosity overwhelmed her and she went into the hallway, navigating into the deeper parts of the ship. Much of the walls had been repaired and much of the wiring had been fixed up as well. Deeper in though, she would start seeing holes in the walls and ceiling, letting in drops of rain occasionally. She was in the back of the ship now, the more dangerous area where the most damage was done when it was hit by the hunter’s ship. At one point she came upon a very large hole that was big enough for her to crawl through, though she refused the thought.

She gazed through the hole for a small time, watching Cheshik out on the shore of the lake giving snickers a bath and wrestling with her. Her viewing of the tender moment between the two was broken when she heard a loud bang and what sounded like a yell. She recognized the voice of Iisska and the fact that he said a word, but it was in an unknown language. She hurried along and found him working on patching up some large hunk of metal. A few signs strewn about on the walls said that it was something called the “Power converter” but the words were lost to her. She approached him and called out as he went back to work, but he didn’t seem to hear her.

She got a little closer and tapped him on his shoulder. He jumped, yelling, and dropped the heavy blowtorch onto his foot, which made him call out in pain and grab his foot. He looked up to Cynthia and glared before kneeling down to get the blowtorch, but finding that Cynthia already had it. She handed it to him gently and he snatched the still active torch from her harshly. He asked what the hell she wanted.

“I...wanted to apologize.” She said, though he didn’t respond in any other way than taking off his goggles and sizing her up with an angry scowl.

“For the previous morning…” She continued. “I did not know you wanted peace. With your weapons and bodies I...thought you wished to fight first and ask questions later not…” She stuttered as her face flushed.

“Can’t ask questions after when everybody’s in ribbons can you?” Iisska asked.

“I...I...well…” She stuttered and tripped over her words, unable to make an excuse for her actions.

While shaking his head he turned away from her and was about to slide the goggles back on. Then he hesitated.

“No. You saved us… I guess. Just wanted things to go different,” he said, “I don’t really know how though. Guess it would have ended the same if you didn’t do anything.”

It was difficult for her to formulate the words that were going through her mind, the mixture of regret and shame she was feeling was forming a knot in her throat. It was a few moments before she choked out a response worthy enough of possibly satisfying the Togruta. “I’ll try and be more...peaceful in the future.” She felt the words of Luke in the back of her head reminding her that what she just said was impossible. “I promise.”

“Tch, like I could do anything about it,” he said, “Don’t worry about it. You always get all wishy-washy when people disagree with you?”

“Comes with the shame, I guess,” She relaxed a little. “So...don’t take this the wrong way but...what race are you?”

“Race?” Iisska risked a confused glance back at her.

“Erm...Nyrette is Human, Cheshik is...erm. Cheshik. I am Haemonculus.” She replied, trying her best to convey the word correctly. “I will be honest, I don’t know what Cheshik is.”

“Oh, oh ho ho,” he chuckled, “You mean ‘species.’ Cheshik is Trandoshan. I’m Togruta. If that means anything here.”

“You are outlander, it...means a lot.” She smiled. “Do you have a language?” She wondered.

“T- Ta,” he smirked, “Eedk ch uung gaadrii ne.”

“Eedk ch...uung gaadrii...ne?” She repeated massively incorrectly. “How do you say it like that?”

It was impossible for him to stop the highly amused snickering that was shaking him up now.

“Humans always sound like they’re talking with a stuffy nose,” he explained, “Homuncleehhwatevers, too, I guess. Heh. You can’t help it.”

She came a little closer and placed a hand on the back of his head. He immediately stiffened and cringed away. “Hold still…” She said, closing her eyes. She placed her free hand over her neck, followed by a light humming and a dim light. She backed up and spoke the words again. “Eedk ch uung gaadii ne.” She said flawlessly. Her voice was a bit different now as she spoke. “A trick that haemonculi practice so that we may assist all the species of Eos.”

Iisska visibly shuddered and shied away from her when she was done. He rubbed the back of his head and stood up, putting his back against the wall and his eyes mostly on the floor.

“That’s…,” he mumbled, “weird. How did you… How!?”

“I sort of just do.” She cleared her throat as she adjusted to the manipulated sinus and throat muscles. “I suppose it is the same way my body just knows how to shapeshift. I can’t really explain it.”

“Just do?” he asked, “Like any part of you?”

She nodded and held out her hand, shifting it into the shape of his blowtorch and back, then shifting her head into what she assumed was the female version of a Togruta, though the strain made her return to her original shape. “It can be difficult for me to maintain...I’m not that strong of a Haemonculus.”

He whispered the word a couple of times trying to get the sound right and commit it to memory, meanwhile watching what was a completely grotesque display. Disgust twisted his face.

“Haemonculus,” he finally choked out with more confidence, “... Please don’t do that again.”

“Done.” She smiled. “I am keeping the internal changes though. I...kind of like the voice.”

He nodded, “Sounds cool… fuller. Suits you.”

“Thank you.” She said, feeling a lot of the worry strip away. “So...what is off planet like? Wait, you have work to do...can I help or…?”

“Eh, it- it all sucks, not really worth talking about,” Iisska shrugged, “And yeah, work.”

He looked around the trashed engine room rubbing his neck and searching for something to suggest or say at all.
“Th- there’s not really… Unless you know how to… n- no… I don’t think. I don’t know. It’s not like cleaning a room or taking out the trash. Not that you can’t help or that I don’t want help, it’s just…” he trailed off.

“What?” She questioned. “I am able to learn, what you’re doing...um, Quin mentioned it...Engineering. It’s really fascinating.”

“I guess?” he shrugged, “It’s a job? You build cool shit- stuff? If you can learn, um, great. I don’t think I can teach you though.”

“You really don’t have to. I’m a visual learne-” Before she could even finish her sentence, the two were knocked to the ground by the ship rocking to the side then back. A huge groaning rippled through the ship as it threatened to fall to the earth again. From down the hall they could hear a mumbled echo.

“Kobel! Naughty puppy! Bad beastie! No toy playing for you now! To corner!”

The two got up and ran down the hall.

“OH, COME ON!” Iisska yelled as they turned the curve in the tight corridor.

He came to a stop and sighed. Kobel was wedged firmly into a hole that had been punched through the side of the ship in the crash and forcibly squirmed his way through it, grunting and whining and snarling. His hips and back legs popped through and he squished himself inside, happily wiggling and drooling with a large ball in his mouth. He paced around in a circle looking out of the hole and whining more. Then he saw his master. They both froze. Then the massive beast bolted forward.

“KOBEL NO!” Iisska and Cynthia tried to yell as fiercely as one can when cowering behind their arms and seeing their life flash before their eyes.

The huge akk dog came to a halt at the last second and lowered himself, gently nuzzling into Iisska’s stomach. He let out a sigh of relief and dug his fingertips deep under the scale plates behind Kobel’s ear.

“I’m sorry. He’s… playful. Getting better though,” he told Cynthia.

From behind, the two could hear a couple claws scraping lightly against metal before Cheshik’s head popped up over Kobel’s back. “Oh. Sorry. Threw ball weeniest bit too hard,” He chuckled.

“At. The. Ship?” Cynthia sounded angry. “At. The. Ship?”

Cheshik looked a little nervous but laughed it off. “No. It bounced off of tree and got in hole. Kobel good at tracking. I will patch up in while.”

“No. Cheshik will patch up now.” Cynthia mocked him. “Iisska and I can take a break from the work.” She smiled and waited for Iisska.

“Awwwuh. Was having fun.” Cheshik said sadly before sliding off of Kobel’s back. “Where is blow torch…” He said sadly.

“Break? Wait! Cheshik, no,” Iisska crossed his arms, “There’s a hammer, bolts and a riveter in there somewhere. Just patch. I’ll do the rest. Understand?” Cheshik didn’t hear him fully over Kobel’s panting and his words were wasted.

“Cheshik!” Isska snapped.

“Iisska. He’s already gone.” Cynthia said, squatting down. “He’ll be fine. His patches don’t seem...bad. Then again, I’m not sure what he has patched in the past.”

“Nothing!” Iisska threw his hands up, “He’s going to butcher himself.”

“Can always ask Quin to help.” She said.

“Never.”

MEANWHILE

Laying together, holding one another in bed, stark naked but covered up, Quin and Nyrette held each other, pressing their foreheads against one another. “Well?” Nyrette said.

Quin could barely breathe or move. Her chest heaved, gently with the effort. Her eyes couldn’t focus through the burning heat still coursing through every inch of her body. She groaned.

“I…” Quin tried to speak, “um…”

For the first time she was at a loss for words.

“The ship rocking definitely didn’t help your situation.” She chuckled.

Quin was coming to her senses and slowly the memory of the exact moment returned to her. She quivered.

“Ooh, nooo,” she moaned, “Th-that wasn’t us… was it?”

“No. Pretty sure it was something Iisska did. Blame him. It’s easier.” She kissed Quin’s forehead.

“Ugh,” Quin’s nose scrunched up, “Let’s not bring that up.”

Quin squirmed and tangled herself and her lover tighter into the bed sheets and pulled Nyrette in to herself tightly. There she trapped her in her arms and nuzzled her neck.

“Just you and me.”

“Just how I like it.” She smiled and sighed happily.

MEANVHILE INZE DOCTOR’S LAB

Marquis came running down the now slightly askew ship ramp. “I am going to bloody kill you for bloody breaking the bloody ship again, Iisska!” He came around the back of the ship and saw Cynthia, Iisska, and Kobel standing outside the hole in the ship. “HOW?!” He yelled and stopped up to them. “THE SHIP IS TWENTY FEET IN THE AIR. BLOODY HOW?!”

“Geh,” Iisska shrugged, “Fifteen now.”

Marquis’ eye turned bright red as he threatened to back hand Iisska right across the face. “Cynthia. Explain.”

“It’s Cheshik’s fault.” She admitted.

“I still blame you.” Marquis pointed at Iisska and went off to find Cheshik.

“THE FUCK DID I DO?” Iisska yelled after him.

“Iisska...What does that word mean?” Cynthia questioned.

“What? ‘Fuck’?” he asked.

She nodded.

“To have… You know… s- sex?” he said sheepishly. He could feel the blood rushing to his head, “but it’s mostly a… trash word I guess. You can use it for everything. I might use it too much.”

“Think I’m going to just not let that word permeate my vocabulary.” She said flatly. “Sounds...as you said. Trashy. Like a filler word.”

“It’s kinda fun though. Try it.”

“Fuck.” She said and coughed afterward. “Just feels trashy too. Not going to ask you about those kinds of words in the future.”

“Too bad,” he said, “You’re missing out on a lot of fun words.”

“I’m sure you’ll force it down my throat in time and I’ll be forced to learn to just accept it.” She resigned to the fact.

Iisska’s eyes widened and for a few very awkward moments all he could do was purse his lips softly and stare directly at the floor. The wonderful shades of red and blue he was turning were not helping the mental situation he found himself in.

Cheshik broke the silence then by coming back to the hole with a horribly fit welding mask on top of his head. “Phrasing, Cynthia.” He said before hefting a piece of the metal and started welding away. “You are lucky Cheshik had to fix metal armor before as mercenary.” He said while Cynthia realized what she said and blushed.

“GREAT!” Iisska jumped, “So how about, shut up? And also help me with the repairs sometime? Like now. I have to go do ship. I mean repairs. On the ship.”

He strode down the hall quickly, keeping his eyes down.

He looked down to Cynthia and back to Iisska down the hall. “Does Iisska not know we have only single blow torch?” He chuckled.

“Guess not.” She shook her head.

---

“I TOLD YOU IT LOOKED LIKE IT WAS GOING TO COLLAPSE!” Tristan screamed.

The twins sprinted down the loading bay ramp faster than they had ever sprinted. They came to a sliding stop in the mud outside and stared back at the sadly tilting ship. There was a slight groan from her undercarriage as things readjusted, but afterward there was nothing. Nothing but the rain. And distant angry yelling.

“It’s not collapsing,” Luke gasped between panicked breaths.

“OH, REALLY?” Tristan snapped, “Wait a tick. I don’t trust it. It’s been growling and roaring and making horrible noise all morning.”

“It’s not alive,” Luke argued.

“We don’t know that.”

“It’s cold and raining. We should go back.”

Tristan glared at his brother and walked away slowly. Instead of heading back up into the ship he carefully circumnavigated her. His eyes traced up and down every part with the utmost scrutiny. Luke shivered and looked up into the entrance, then at Tristan, then back. He groaned and shivered and followed his brother off to wherever he was going.

On the other side of the ship Snickers was sitting on the ground. Then she got up, flicked her tail back and forth, circled and looked up at the side of the ship with much anticipation. Tristan hurried over to her and reached out slowly until his fingers entwined in the mane along her spine and he started scratching tenderly. Luke’s attention was drawn up the side of the ship to the gaping series of holes in the hull.

“What in the--” he mumbled.

Then he saw someone moving up there along with mysterious metallic banging and clanging.

“Oi! What the hell is going on?” he yelled up.

Cheshik poked his head from around the corner and grabbed the welding mask off the top of his face, taking it off. “Had too much fun, Kobel broke wall. All is well.”

“So that horrible noise?” Luke asked.

“It is metal creaking. It is normal. Will fix in time. If not, we do opposite of raise with other legs and figure out fix later,” He chuckled.

Luke turned to Tristan and raised a brow, “It’s not collapsing.”

All he got back was a dirty look.

“Need us to do anything?” Tristan asked, “Help? Cooking, cleaning? More soaking wet firewood?”

“Mmm…” He thought about it for a moment. “Play with snickers. She bored, careful though. She like rough house and wrestling. Don’t break bone.”

Cheshik’s suggestion was met with a simultaneous, “Uuhhh…”

“Or be chicken and go clean up debris in engine room. Be guest.” He snorted

“Pardon me, SIR,” Tristan rolled his eyes, “Do we look chicken to you? Don’t answer that, but I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW we’d never shy away from such a worthy and exciting task such as-- Wait! Luke where are you going!?”

“Engine room,” Luke said.

“I was just thinking that chicken would be delicious lunch.” Cheshik laughed. “Bark bark” He failed.

Tristan narrowed his eyes in confusion and his jaw hung open for a second. Then he cleared his throat and straightened.

“You dare mock me!?” he laughed.

And just to prove the point he had been getting at he ran at Snickers ready to go in for the tackle. Snickers made a noise and turned on a dime, lashing out with her tail. Tristan was caught square in the chest and before he could even register what had just happened he was going head over heels through the mud into the underbrush on the edge of the trees. In the distance, he could hear the Trandoshan dropping his tools and laughing too hard to breathe.

With a groan and a wild throwing about of his arms and legs to find any kind of leverage to pull himself upright in this incessantly spinning world, Tristan rolled out of the bushes on all fours and caught his breath in gasps.

He sprinted at her again and actually got close to the Varactyl. She turned and looked at him for a second as he jumped into the air before snatching him out of the air with her powerful jaws. Suddenly, he found himself halfway in her mouth finding out that her teeth were retractable and that Varactyl spit tasted like spoiled milk. He heard a rumble that almost sounded like laughter before she started to flail him around wildly accompanied by his screams before she flung him over shoulder and into the lake.

A few bubbles found their way up to the surface after the splash subsided, followed by the gasping and screaming human coming up after them. He floundered his way to the shore where he stomped back up the sands cursing under his breath, but smiling just a little. He rubbed out his neck.

“Oh, that’s whiplash,” he moaned, “Do you have to be so rough?”

“Do not mind her!” Cheshik yelled from the ship. “She is used to wrestling with the strong!” He laughed.

Tristan glared daggers back up at the ship. He spit lake water out on the ground and cracked his back. Then he carefully paced around Snickers, hands out stretched.

“Come on now, you’re a good girl right? Maybe we can do this without killing me? Eh?” he asked.

She flicked out her tongue like she was mocking him and inviting him to do something. As he went around in circles she turned with him as if saying “Come on, ginger. Do it.”

He waited until he was a bit closer to her. He didn’t take his eyes off hers. Then he lunged as hard and as fast as he could and latched onto her neck with all his strength. There he struggled to throw her, or turn her, or move her, or even budge her in the slightest.

She sort of just didn’t move as the human tried to budge her with all his might. She looked over to Cheshik, whom was watching with glee. She shook her head a bit and let the human dangle from the bottom before yawning and placing her head on the ground on top of Tristain, pinning him with her weight.

Tristan’s breath surged out of his body in one horrible gasp and he writhed under Snickers and tried in vain to push her off. She moved just enough to allow him to breathe but after a few more minutes of sucking air and struggling he finally gave up and just lay in the mud staring up at the sky.

“Fine,” he wheezed, “You win. Happy?”

All he could feel was a deep purring in her throat.

Cheshik was laughing way too hard to be doing any sort of work at all. Iisska cleaned up what he was doing and padded down the corridor without a sound, to where Cheshik was practically rolling on the ground. He crossed his arms and frowned.

“Wow!” Iisska shouted, “Nice job patching the hull, Cheshik!”

Cheshik, on the floor laughing at Tristain, looked up at Iisska and kept laughing, getting up slowly as he did. “C-Come on. Look at Treestan. You would laugh at too.” He pointed at the Human still trying to wiggle his way out.

Iisska’s eyes went wide and he dropped his arms. He placed a hand on the edge of the hole and leaned out trying to get a better look at the man who looked like he had just returned from a battlefield.

“Ah, is he okay?” Iisska asked.

“Probably.” Cheshik snorted before picking up the torch and getting back to work. “Should be done in hour or two.”

“Mm, okay. Try not to kill him. I need to go find Marquis. Will catch up with you later,” Iisska said.
He gave one last look outside to make sure the human wasn’t actually dead already and continued to the upper decks of the ship. Once up there he realized he had no idea where Marquis actually was.

“HEY STERLING!” he started yelling, “STERLING!”

Poking his head out of his bedroom door, Marquis stared Iisska down, clearly angry. “What?”

“Oh! Eh, hi. I mean, there you are. I mean I was just wanting to ask about, ah, powerflow… To the A.I. core. Any… thing?” Iisska fumbled the words out.

“Iisska. Slow down. Use your words like a big Togruta.” Marquis sighed.

“Do we have power to the A.I. core yet?” he growled, “To the system alerts, to repair bots, to the dash, anything? … Trin?”

“No. All those are controlled by her subsystems. We can have all the bloody power in the world and not a bloody thing to do with with it if she’s damaged, which she is.” He said darkly.

Iisska sighed. His shoulders dropped. He bit his lip. But didn’t take his eyes off Marquis. He thought for a moment.

“We’re going to fix her too,” he said quietly, “With how bad things are, that will be next… Are you… Are you good?”

“To be frank. No. I’m afraid and that does not happen. I do not like it.” He said, seeming like he wanted to stop the conversation. Cynthia rounded the corner then, going on her rounds when she saw the two and greeted them.

“Hello again, Iisska. Good morning Marquis.” She said happily, though Marquis didn’t appear to be pleased to have more company. “Um…”

“Do not ask.” He said bluntly. “Really not in the mood.”

“Then might I suggest a walk? The rain has cleared up a little and you seem like you could use the stress relief.” She smiled.

“I am not stressed.”

“Then anger relief,” Iisska said, “Or you could hide in the ship for a few more weeks.”

He was silent for a few moments before he went back in the room and came out with his coat. “Lets get this over with.” He spat out.

“Oh goodie!” Cynthia said before falling in line with the boys.

“I can still return to the room, Cynthia.” He said.

“Noted.” She pursed her lips.

The rain had indeed stopped and left a peaceful overcast and misty day in its wake. Everything still smelled of rain though and the moisture helped bring out the brilliant green of the trees. For the first few minutes of the exodus no one said anything. But it was a welcome silent. Iisska struggled to remember the last time any of them had kicked back and done nothing. Or just done something to relax without the fear of agonizing death looming over them. There was still more fear among them than the crew could rightly deal with, but it was fear of the unknown and fear of loss more than a fear of an untimely, extremely painful and ultimately horrifying end to everything. He shoved such thoughts away and occupied himself with looking up at the canopy and trying to spot birds and small animals.

“I think I could get used to this place. Not so bad with no asshole natives around,” he snorted.

Then he balked and shot a glance at Cynthia.

“Not you though! The other people. Like in the city. You’re not an asshole,” he said quickly.

‘Smooooth.” Marquis said.

“Um...thank you?” Cynthia said with a raised eyebrow. “You aren’t an asshole either?” She said, not knowing what asshole meant.

“Ah, thanks…” Iisska replied.

There was a long, uncomfortable pause before he tried to break the silence again.

“This was a good idea. Nice out here, right?”

“Depends on the weather.” Marquis said.

“What is wrong, Marquis?” Cynthia asked suddenly.

Marquis was silent for a few minutes, his eye shifting colors from yellow to blue and back again before settling on some horrid mixture.

“Have you ever taken one side of a balance scale away and let the other side plummet?” He said finally. “I do not have my balance. I do not know if she will be alright or if she will come back differently. I am scared and cannot find a way out of it.”

“She is coming back,” Isska said.

“When? How? Nobody on the crew knows how to fix an A.I. core. If she does come back, will she recognize us? Is her memory going to come back intact, is she even going to want-” Cynthia grabbed him then, turning him towards her.

“It’ll be alright.” She exclaimed. “She will be fine.”

Iisska stood behind Cynthia, “You sound like you already gave up.”

“I have only had to deal with fear three times in my entire existence. I do not know how to cope.” He said solumnly.

“That is why we are here.” Cynthia said, smirking. “To help shoulder the burden. Even if one of us is going through the same feelings of fear.”

“Hey, I know we’re weird and fight a lot, but you don’t have to be scared,” Iisska slapped her on the back, “We got ya’. Same to you Sterling. Big scary assassin or not, life is scary. Things always seem to work out though.”

Marquis chuckled a little, feeling reassured by the two as they stood next to the lake. Rain was starting to fall again. “Sounds like you are in the same boat, Iisska.”

He looked confused, “What boat?”

“The same situation. Zen.” He explained.

Iisska bit his lip and looked at Marquis for slightly too long, like he was trying to drill into his skull. Then he looked away with a shrug and a smirk and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Eh. Zen can handle himself,” He said, “He didn’t really have a reason to stick around anyway.”

“Now that is bullshit.” Marquis said bluntly.

“Zen is the man that was in a coma, correct?” Cynthia asked.

“Yes. That man is Iisska’s mentor. That man loves you, Iisska.” He said. “He has more than enough reasons to stick around.”

Iisska actually laughed and shook his head, “No he doesn’t. Seriously. It’s okay. I’m over it. You guys ready to head back?”

“Iisska.”

“Sterling,” he shot back, “People walk out on you sometimes. Nothing to be done about it.”

“Then why did he leave you his saber?”

“Because it doesn’t work. It’s useless.”

“Have you tried it?”

“No. Nothing works here. Why would I?”

“Wouldn’t hurt.” Marquis crossed his arms.

“I agree. I would like to see if it works.” Cynthia said somewhat excitedly.

“Whatever! If you guys wanna stand around and watch me push a button, that’s your loss,” Iisska huffed, “It’s not gonna work.”

“Want to bet? I am willing to.” Marquis said.

“With what? We got nothing to bet with.”

“Well…”Marquis started.

“If it works, I will go into town and purchase new clothing.” Cynthia said abruptly. Both Iisska and Marquis gave her a sideways glance of confusion.

“No. You’re going to buy new clothes anyway. You can’t keep wearing that,” Iisska argued. He was blushing furiously.

“WELL. If it does not work, I will show you everything I know in hand-to-hand combat.” He said, silencing Cynthia for a few moments.

“I… Hmm,” Iisska thought about it for a moment, “That would be… Alright! And if the damn thing turns on, Sterling… you… you have to… Ah… Teach me that hand-to-hand stuff anyway. And you!” he looked at Cynthia and rubbed his chin, “I pick out the clothes.”

Marquis stared at him for a minute, taken aback by the sudden perverted stance, but shook his head. “Could have just asked me to give you hand to hand training, you know…well, lead the way, I have a bet to lose according to you.”

“Yeah you do!” Iisska grinned.

---

“SON OF A BITCH!”

The darksaber was nearly sent flying across the room when Iisska jumped back from the fully ignited blade in his hand. The blade was so black that no light reflected off of it. Yet it crackled and hummed with a foreign energy. Now the three of them stood in his quarters standing around it with looks of bewilderment. Except for Marquis who looked rather pleased with himself.

“Well would you lo-” Marquis started.

“FUCK.” Cynthia cursed, startled by the blade.

The two of them looked at her quietly with vacant expressions.

“I told you it was fun,” Iisska chuckled.

“I’m glad you’re not choosing my clothing.” She said, staring at the blade.

“Come on!” he threw his hands up, “I’m not gonna make you wear anything stupid. Just not so tight. How are you even comfortable?”

“I am really not.” She admitted.

“I can see why she doesn’t want you to choose her clothing.” Marquis said, “She would rather myself choose because you are not as fashionable as myself.” He beamed.

“I know about fashion!” Iisska said, standing there, caked in mud, barefoot and dressed in oil-stained cargos that were more hole than fabric at this point, “Can I at least supervise?”

She stared at him for several moments before she finally resigned. “Fine. You may see them after I get them, but I get to choose them.”

“Iisska. you sad, sad, little Togruta.” Marquis shook his head.

“I’m not sad,” Iisska said through clenched teeth.

“Seems like you are more ‘Excited’ than sad, actually.” He said.

“Excited about the sword? Yeah! Pretty pissed off about the jerks in my room though.”

It was the beginning of another dreary day at the Harpoon and it was already turning out to be a rather quiet, relaxing one. Least for everybody but Cheshik, whom Iisska had working on the ship for the day. The lizard had grumbled and gotten to work, leaving Iisska to happily start training in hand to hand combat with Marquis, much to his glee. All at the same time, Quin, fresh off of getting a little plastered in the lounge last night after her rather exhausting morning with her lover, was going to begin her sword training with Nyrette as her master. The thought of Nyrette schooling Quin, somebody she looked up to and loved dearly, how to use a sword was one that excited her possibly too much.

She hurried down the hall with both hers and Quin's swords in hand, making her way towards the hanger to head outside when she stopped just before the lounge and saw Cynthia walking out in a rather baggy lavender shirt and leggings. She had an empty bowl in her hands.

“Woah. Cynthia...those aren't my clothes.” Nyrette said.

“Nope. Got them last night.” She said with a smile.

“Last...night? What? You went back to the city?” Nyrette exclaimed

“Yep.” Cynthia replied

“And back in less than twelve hours?”

“Eleven, yes. Like my other pearl core sisters, I can run very fast.” She said, turning her leg a bit to show her larger than human-average calves.

“Damn. I won't lie...kinda wish I could build up the muscle like that.” Nyrette said a little coyly.

“You are upper body base. I'm lower. Kinda like it that way.” She winked.

“Also...what's with the bowl? Were...were you eating something?” Nyrette asked.

“I...um...,” she hesitated, her fingers tightened slightly around the bowl's edges and she got a little nervous. “I found out about the...err...Toasted grain squares, with the slight bit of sugar and a cinnamon powder on them...”

“The...Cinnamon crunch?” Nyrette stifled a laugh.

“YES,” Cynthia yelled. “They...made me a little tipsy but they're delicious. I can't help it. I hate that Iisska showed me them...yet love it.”

“Wait...tipsy? As in drunk?” Nyrette asked.

“Yes. Sugar tends to have the same effect on me that alcohol has on you...just really extreme.” She replied.

“Oh? That so? Remind me to dig out the fruit juices next time we party,” Nyrette chuckled. “They're loaded with them. Hey, I'll see you later, Cye.”

Cynthia gulped as Nyrette walked off, dreading the fruit juice that Nyrette spoke of. She took a bit of a deep breath and walked on to find the kitchen and do a bit of cleaning up.

Since her near mental breakdown just a couple days prior, Cynthia had been doing a huge amount better now that her brain had calmed down and she was able to sort out her rather large instabilities and settle down.

She stepped lightly into the kitchen to find it a bit of a mess around the sink, what with a couple small stacks of bowls and utensils lying about. She set her bowl on the side and turned on the lake-pumped water, letting it heat.

Since she had began talking with Iisska, she had found her emotional state to level out. She attributed it to him either being a good listener or caring just enough to acknowledge her presence every now and then when she asked a question. His answers didn't really prove one or the other, but it served to quell her emotions.

Rubbing off the morning grime from her otherwise polished hands, Cynthia began the work that she was most accustomed to. Even after removing her mask and coming to terms with her development as a living being, her body still institutionally returned to the task it was made for: Being a servant.

Even though she was more level headed now, she still had many burning questions in her mind about herself and the crew. Why is Iisska still so angry? Why can't she stop gawking at the most alien thing she had ever seen? Why is Nyrette blind? What is this 'force' thing that they talk about? Who is Zen and why is he so important? Why is cinnamon so damn delectable?

She sighed as she wiped away a piece of food stuck to the bottom of a bowl. There she went again...'trash wording' as she had began to call it. The more she hung out with Iisska, the more she learned of the trash words...in two languages even! She shook her head and placed the last of the bowls to the side before moving onto the utensils and plates. Now that she thought about it...the more she learned the less that she cared that she was saying them. She knew that they were trashy and horrible words, but she found her tongue calling to them and using them slightly more each day...that wasn't the only habit she was beginning to form, truth be told.

Since joining with the crew, her subconscious had been somewhat keeping track of how she was changing. Shifting to the qualities of the crew. She had to admit, she was happier now than she had been a week ago, then again she hadn't been feeling anything at all last week until her mask had been taken off, but she wondered when it would stop. She hadn't noticed it until nearly two hours after her first real talk with Iisska, but she had changed her manner of speaking mid-conversation. Just after she had changed her vocal cords her entire personality just...shifted. She acted a little more like him and her voice had dropped an octave. She wasn't complaining, but it was overly strange to her. She had to admit...she enjoyed entertaining the idea of taking after Iisska a little more than she probably should.

After scrubbing down the utensils, she placed them onto a towel on the side of the sink and left them to dry. She placed her hands on the counter for a moment, looking down to them and looking at the veins that snaked their way over the backs, disappearing into her arm.

That was something else that she had to admit to herself. The fact that Iisska was an alien that she had never before seen was...astonishing. He appealed to her curiosity and he gladly answered most of the questions that she presented him with. Even going as far as to detail what his homeworld was like and giving rather...vague descriptions of the other species in his universe was like...a whole universe. Again, she was presented with a sense of awe when he said that word. Universe. She already knew that Eos, as big as it is, is patheticly small when presented on a universal scale. To think that there was another universe out there was beyond her imagination.

Having returned to the dishes, she finished the plates and left everything next to the sink to dry. There wasn't any cups or glasses surprisingly. Now that she thought of it, they all probably still had their cups with them or scattered about the ship. She thought about going to clean it all up, but she decided against it. She wiped off her hands on a towel and made her way outside to watch Marquis beat up an alien.

---

Once Marquis and Nyrette sat down with their students, they spent the better part of a week teaching them the basics of their expertise. Marquis’ was hand to hand combat, one that rivaled his marksmanship while Nyrette’s was swordsmanship, a skill she was forced to love and hone to perfection in her time in the academy.

For Marquis, teaching Iisska all that he knew was an easy prospect. He focused on what made Iisska a formidable fighter; hitting hard and hitting fast. He already had the hitting hard part down to a science, he hit like a truck full of bricks, but he wasn’t incredibly fast, and that’s where Marquis stepped in.

Over the week, Iisska was shown how to direct his body and carry himself forward in an incredible momentum while simultaneously predicting where the enemy would be and how they would react. He taught the togruta how to send his opponent not only reeling, but flying backwards and unable to retaliate in the slightest. To shatter defenses and prevent them from ever putting up a fight.

As for Nyrette and Quin, it was a little tougher considering Quin hadn’t even held a sword in her entire life. She tried to justify it and say that knives and daggers were training enough, but after having her entire defense broken and being thrown to the ground, she stopped saying that.

Once she got the basics down however, Quin took to Nyrette’s training methods like a pen takes to paper. Nyrette focused on Quin’s body type and flowing seamlessly between movements, as if the entire battle was just a plan in her mind and she already knew the conclusion, a tactic that would throw off more than a few combatants.

At the end of the week, they each had a sparing match to show how far they’d come.

“Come at me, Iisska; Once more. I will not hold back.” Marquis yelled and set his coat to the side, taking a defensive stance to intercept Iisska.

Iisska’s eyes immediately snapped up to meet Marquis’. He began to circle around him with slow and deliberate steps which drew him gradually closer. He shook out his hands and wrists before clenching them tight and let himself fall naturally into a relaxed fighting posture. By the time his feet began to skirt around the edges of his opponent’s green zone his guard was fully up and he was on his toes, ready to move in an instant. An instant was all it to ok for him to lash out at Marquis with the first of a series of quick off-hand jabs and dangerous punches.

Marquis blocked every strike and moved to return the strike straight to Iisska’s stomach. The blow rang out through the trees as steel collided with steel. Marquis’ hand hit Iisska’s gauntlet after he sank, twisted and tucked his body in. Now that he was closer he twisted back and rose with a full forced uppercut. Marquis didn’t have the chance to block it and staggered back, a deep dent marring his once pristine metal beard. Marquis responded with a dozen well placed rabbit punches, which threw Iisska off balance as he back-pedaled to get clear of them.

Don’t keep pushing back, he remembered from an earlier lesson. Despite every part of his mind and body urging him to keep resisting, he let himself fall back. Not to the ground, no. Just enough. Just enough to let the last of Marquis’ flurry of quick punches catch nothing but the air centimeters away. He swung his forward foot out wide to catch himself and sidestep dangerously close to Marquis. He kept the arching momentum going and swung a hook at Marquis’ ribs. He took the attack and was thrown in the air for a moment, giving Iisska a large opening before he retaliated. Iisska didn’t waste his opportunity. With Marquis ungrounded he pulled up his knee and smashed his boot into him hard as soon as he touched the ground.

With that, Marquis flew backwards and hit the ground hard, rolling backwards onto his feet and took a different stance now, waiting for Iisska to rush at him, intending to go on a strong offense. But he didn’t rush. As at the beginning of the fight he took his time closing the distance between the two of them. His eyes hadn’t moved from Marquis’ for a second. He was steadying his breath and continuing to move and stay loose. He tested Marquis with a light jab that was more of a love tap than anything else. When he didn’t move Iisska struck out harder.

At the second attack Marquis moved like lightning. Iisska’s attack never connected with its intended target as Marquis countered with a hard uppercut to Iisska’s jaw followed up by an overhand punch to his forehead before Marquis wind back and slammed his palm against the stunned Togruta’s chest, throwing him back.

Iisska’s feet couldn’t move fast enough to catch himself. Not under that amount of force. He landed flat on his back. After a few seconds of reeling from being punched in the face Iisska sat up with a groan and a snort. Everything was spinning and it wouldn’t stop. Standing up only made it worse. He shook his head and tried to blink away the dull pain in his skull to no avail.

Fine. You wanna play rough? Let’s play rough.

His approach was far less calculated and careful now. He stomped right up to the droid before putting up his fists and had no reservations about delivering the first haymaker.

Marquis dodged out of the way of the haymaker and delivered a heavy jab straight to Iisska’s ribs, following up with a second then a third to Iisska’s abdomen. Iisska staggered back, stunned, before Marquis gift wrapped and delivered a wicked uppercut to Iisska’s jaw and finished off with a haymaker to the cheek, putting Iisska on the ground and out.

Approaching the Togruta, he helped him up. “That is enough. You need to fight like you mean it and never hold back. Stay focused regardless of the pain.”

“Damn it! How do you focus when being punched in the face!?” Iisska snapped… and sprayed flecks of blood on Marquis.

He angrily wiped the blood off of his chest and spoke. “Stand in front of a mirror, punch yourself in the face, focus on whatever is behind you.”

Iisska’s brow furrowed and he seemed deep in thought for just a second. Then he looked up at Marquis obviously unimpressed with the conclusion he had come to.

“I’m not doing that,” he said, “There’s a better way, right?

“Nope. Tis the only way, lad.” He said, rubbing his dented beard.

“Iisska...he means conditioning.” Quin said as she and Nyrette watched them. “Still requires a punch to the face though.”

___

Elsewhere in the world, many leagues away.

“My Regent…” The Inquisitor Brood Master bowed down onto one knee. Bordering on an almost unhealthy level of lithe, he was wrapped in a dark brown leather trench coat armor, various daggers and potions dangled from the belts that hung from his waist and chest. A jagged longsword made it’s home on his hip while a formidable flamberge sat on his back. He was very tall, easily standing seven feet and his tall inquisitor hat made him seem even taller.

Deep wrinkles and scars marred his face underneath sunken black eyes and around his thin, cracked lips. His nose was cut and obviously broken many a time.

Before him was a giant of a man adorned in reds in purples, bright white hair made up most of his head in long hair and longer beard. The master of the castle that the Inquisitor knelt in. The room was lavishly decorated with symbols of the regency and of the twelve kingdoms of the land. Guards stood at every door and an onyx skinned Haemonculus stood at his side.

The Haemonculus stood perfectly still, as if not alive at all. A large onyx gem shined slightly on the side of his neck. His skin, hair, and armor color matched the gem, being completely jet black to better hide in the darkness of night. Even his eyes were black save for the two bright white stars that made up his pupils. He angrily scanned over the Inquisitor, having difficulties staying his hand.

“Inquisitor Malgus,” the Regent said, his voice low and commanding over the room. “You come to me to deliver news of the outlanders, have you not?”

“I have, my Regent.” Malgus stood, placing one hand squarely behind his back. “They are stationed deep in the wood outside of Tildanad. My scouts have found the tracks and can locate them at a moments notice, my lord.”

“I would like you to bring them here, Malgus. Peacefully. I would like to converse with the outlanders and Delebor’s Haemonculus personally.” The regent said.

“Understood, my lord. I will require a small regiment of twenty soldiers for this task. Supplies for the two week long trip can be procured by myself, sir.” The Inquisitor cut to the chase.

“Twenty soldiers?!” The regent spat out.

“Twenty, milord. The outlanders are dangerous and they have a Haemonculi in their possession. If reports from my brothers and sisters in the city is correct, it has no mask and could be dangerous.”

“Why is a maskless Haemonculi a problem?” The regent asked, gesturing towards the onyx one next to him.

“It is a Pearl-core Haemonculus. Very easily corrupted and very erratic. It could lose control at any time.” The inquisitor said.

The Regent ran a hand through his beard several times, thinking heavily on the Inquisitor’s request. “Very well. Do as you must.”

“Thank you, milord,” The inquisitor bowed and turned on his heel, heading out of the room. The Regent leaned over and beckoned the Onyx to bow to his hand.

“Qeldon. Follow him. Make sure he performs his duties.” The Regent said.

“Why do you employ him, milord?” The onyx asked in a deadpan whisper. “He is too dangerous. He will try to kill them.”

“Because they might kill him and save me a war.” The Regent said bluntly.

“Later that same day, after Nyrette and Quin had done their warmups.

“Ready, Pike?” Nyrette said, holding aloft a wooden training blade. “Don’t hold back. I want a few bruises.” She smiled and took her stance, a disengaged one where she lowered the blade to her hip and waited for Quin to make the first move.

“No head strikes, yeah?” Quin asked. “These blades are a little blunt, don’t want to hit a temple.” She was a little worried for both of their safety because of the last time they sparred and she was out cold for an hour after Nyrette accidently hit her on the head.

“Alright. No head strikes.” She said, smiling. “I still feel horrible about the other day, by the way.”

“It’s alright. It happens. Have you seen Iisska’s nose? It won’t stop bleeding from how much Marquis has hit it. In fact, I’m sure it needs a splint now.”

Nyrette shook her head, chuckling before she beckoned her student forward into an attack. Quin bowed her head, respecting her opponent whom did the same before she flourished her blade, flipping it over hand before charging at Nyrette, keeping her posture keen and precise as she went in for a quick slash. Nyrette jumped backwards and raised her blade as Quin struck out again vertically. Nyrette blocked it to the side, leaving Quin wide open to her opponent placing her hand on her chest and shoving her back, putting her off balance for just long enough for Nyrette to wind up and deliver a heavy handed cut to Quin’s ribs.

Quin grunted in pain as it was obvious her teacher wasn’t holding back and frankly, neither was she. Quin snapped her elbow back, nailing Nyrette in the jaw before she stabbed at her reeling opponent’s stomach. Nyrette, jaw in pain, moved to the side just before it hit only to see that Quin was feigning it, instead replacing the thrust with a swipe at Nyrette’s arm, which she put up a feeble deflection and narrowly stopped her opponent from hitting her. She jammed her hilt up into Quin’s shoulder, stunning her for just long enough for her to pull up her blade and place the tip over Quin’s heart. Quin stopped cold. “FUCK.” She yelled and backed up. “Thought I had you that time.”

“I didn’t expect the mixture of hand-to-hand, but your feigned attack was too obvious. Feigning an attack while your opponent is starting to recover won’t help much. If they’re helpless, finish them. Also...fucking damn.” Nyrette grabbed her jaw and squinted as the pain came shooting through her mouth. “Did you have to hit so hard?! Ah..,” she said, moving her jaw a little and feeling the teeth to see if any were broken. It was just a bruised bone.

“Consider it payback for my bruised rib.” Quin shot back, mift about the overly heavy rib attack. “Now that hurt like hell. I’m not armored.”

“It has nothing to do with armoring!” The two heard Iisska yell from next to the lake. “You just can’t take a hit!” He laughed as he stood next to Cheshik. The Trandoshan looked down to the Togruta and frowned, hitting him in the back of the head.

“Iisska. Be of the quiet now. Pike work hard to build muscles, she can take more hit than you. Also, nose is bleeding.”

“Because of you, dumbass!” Iisska yelled and put a hand to his bleeding nose.

“Well, if you’re so tough, Iisska.” Quin yelled out. “How about you come and get me.”

“Oh?! You wanna fight me?” Iisska snorted, making more blood come out of his nose. “Come on then!”

____

youtube.com/watch?v=IoSuyUFiEYo
“Da pacem custodivit. Percutiat esse faciendum opus in nomine tuo.”

Lithe, tall, garbed in gray and black, a white silk mantle upon his back. Black boots underneath dark gray leather armored greaves, his left shin having a white plate from knee to foot. Matching to a dark gray vest over white chainmail, all of which underneath a black longcoat, reaching to his calves, gold embroidery along the back painted a cross within a circle of words in an unknown language. His right arm was plated in heavy white plate. In each leather armored hand he held two circular blades, each coming to three points at the end of three viciously serrated curved blades. His face was hidden, the mask of a long beaked bird hiding it entirely. Upon his head was tall sheltering, leather and weathered with black with gold embroidery painting the same symbol on his back, stretching farther to form ivy and vines along the brim and top.

He placed the blades at his hip, small strings hanging from them hooked them to his gold embroidered belt. From under his coat he drew two gunpowder pistols and held them at his side.

The voice that he spoke with was not natural, to all of his listeners he would sound far away, but be able to understand him as clear as crystal, as if being spoken to by something otherworldly. Neutral and barely more than a whisper, he spoke to the darkness that surrounded him in the twisted forest where he stood.

“My keeper. Guide me on the hunt for my prey. A monster uses cunning and deceit to lure the innocent into its grasp and inflicts upon them the deepest of nightmares as it saps their will and life. This day, it’s own life shall be torn from its vessel and there shall be no remains for the vultures of the forest.”

With a sense of duty and an utter lack of hesitation or fear, the man stepped into the darkness, the light of his keeper leaving him as he steps beyond it’s reach. He was alone and ready for the worst.

___

youtube.com/watch?v=bW7Op86ox9g

“This will be utterly unfair,” Quin scoffed.

She ran her fingers up the edge of the wooden training blade and sighed. Iisska, now with a makeshift bandage across the bridge of his nose, punched the palm of his hand. His fists were wrapped. Marquis had stepped in and taken the gauntlets away. There would be no casualties in this childish fight; not on his watch.

“If you’re gonna get scared and whine then just back down,” Iisska teased.

“Oh, I’m not scared.” Quin slashed downward, flourished the blade with a few easy movements of her wrist and brought it back up to guard as she fell into a relaxed stance. “I meant this will be unfair for you.”

Iisska rolled his eyes, “Ooh, fancy. I’m shaking with fear.”

“Enough posturing. Come at me,” she demanded.

He obeyed immediately. There was no tense testing of the waters, no circling, no poking or prodding. Only the furious charge of a wild beast. Quin flinched when the first blow swung down on her like a sledge hammer. She was only just swift enough to sidestep him and lightly deflect his arm away with her sword. The air hissed with their speed. Her blade shot up his side like a whip and cracked down. Quin shot away and Iisska stumbled back groaning and holding the back of his shoulder. It was Quin who charged next, her feet moving as if she were gliding on water, her blade thrust like a striking snake. Iisska pulled up in a frantic block. The point grazed off his forearm only to catch him in the shoulder again. She coiled, twisted and lashed out effortlessly. Every strike the extension of a dancer’s body. While her opponent merely stood against her onslaught, a rock dashed by ocean waves. In spite of his passive resistance she cut him down piece by piece until he all but curled in a ball before her. The final blow ripped across his jaw and she pulled the sword wide in a triumphant gesture. One of his hands hit the ground to steady himself. Every place he had been hit stung like fire. He was dizzy, sick, humiliated and blinded by the color red. His fist clenched. Every fiber pulled tight. When he saw the sword swung out behind her, he exploded. Iisska wheeled on her like an enraged bull. Quin gagged. Every wisp of oxygen was forcibly displaced from her chest. Her insides screamed out as muscles failed and ribs cracked under the impact of the headbut that threw her to the ground. The dirt seemed to hit her just as hard as Iisska had and it took all her strength to roll out of it and get to her knees.

She could only breathe in whistles and gasps. Her stomach threatened to empty itself but she forced it down. Iisska stood over her, chest heaving, air hissing through his teeth, dark welts forming on his arms and face, blood running like rivers through his mouth and nose, shaking, eyes on fire. Quin made herself stand up and finally manage to suck in a full breath. She stumbled away to a safe distance and kept her sword out before her. A hand held onto her side. He waited patiently for her.

“That won’t happen again,” she wheezed.

She let her hand fall and held her sword firm. He pulled his hands up to shield himself and went back into stance. This time Quin lead with another thrust as graceful and tight as the last. Iisska threw it aside and was in her face with one motion. He cocked back, let loose and found himself with Quin’s left hand clasped onto his wrist like a vice. She twisted it hard and yanked him to the ground. A follow through with her blade on his back left him sprawling in the dirt. She quivered and her hand went back to her side.

“You’re intimidating. You hit like a brick,” she nodded and took a breath, “I’ll give you that. However, you have no technique. At the end of the day you’re nothing more than a brat with guns that are too big for him. Not a warrior, but a rabid attack dog with no discipline and no understanding of the art of war. It’s no wonder Zen gave up on you.”

The breeze stilled, birds stopped their chirping, the water of the lake stopped lapping at the shores. The clearing went silent. Breaths were held so tightly they could be snapped. Iisska rose up.

“N-no,” Quin sighed, “That… I didn’t mean to say… What I meant is that you need to--”

He stomped toward her. The blood was draining from her face and she snapped her sword up, holding it in both hands. The look in his eyes had her backpedaling toward the trees. She took a breath and steadied herself as he drew near. He got too close and she swung down at him hard. He blocked it with an arm and winced in pain. His other hand shot out, took the blade and tore it from her grip.

“Enough!” Marquis yelled. He was walking toward them quickly, “This fight is over!”
Iisska snapped the sword in two over his knee. Quin raised her hands. He plunged into her and the iron that wrapped around her neck as she struggled cut off any flow of air. The monster lifted her off her feet, brought her to his hideous face and snarled. His grip continued to tighten and quake. Tendons and muscles and airways strained. Everything was going dark. She was panicking, lashing out uselessly. She was going to die.

“IISSKA STOP!” She could hear running feet and people yelling all at once.

This beast that had taken the place of her comrade twisted, went to a knee and slammed her into the ground. The dim light that reached her was blotted out when he raised a fist. She could only feel the pain and the wailing, fear that smothered her thoughts when the brutal blows came down on her face one after the other. Time seemed to stretch out infinitely in an eternal moment of hell. She could hear the cracking and feel the breaking and was powerless to stop it, frozen in regret and terror.

Finally the vice was pulled from her and she was released. The hell evaporated like wind-blown smoke. She curled, sucked in biting breaths and writhed away to an unknown place. Iisska was doubled over several feet away from her. Marquis and Cheshik were both on him with holds on his arm and neck. He nearly dragged them both over while they restrained him. Quin continued to struggle away from the mess of bodies.

Nyrette knelt by her side asking questions that she could not register. She tugged on Quin’s arm trying to get her up. A soft hand ran over her face gently and quickly became, hot, wet and sticky. With help, Quin was on her feet, but she was still backing away. Nyrette tried to pull her back, she tried to slow her.

“We need to go to the ship,” Quin finally heard her say, “Come on, you’re hurt.”

Quin ripped her arm from Nyrette’s grasp and shook her head. She couldn’t go there. She wouldn’t go there. Not with him near. She turned and bolted into the forest.

“Quin!”
“Quin stop!”
“Quin, please!”

The voices were fading into the distance as Quin sprinted away from the Harpoon and into the darkness of the wood. Nyrette couldn’t keep up with her. She ran until she couldn’t hear the yelling between the others anymore. Until the only thing she could hear was the sound of her own breathing.

She entered into a small grove where the trees refused to grow. A small pond was in the middle, devoid of any lichen, lily pads, or even fish. Darkness surrounded her save for the light coming from the pond. The sun was blocked out by the tall trees. Tears were streaming down Quin’s face, sliding between the bruises and cuts that marred it. She fell to the ground, staring at the dirt while she tried in vain to recover her breath. Droplets of tears hit the ground underneath her, dampening the earth and grass. She pushed herself up, gripping her side as she did. Her breath came out shallow and ragged as the adrenaline wore off and the pain hit her like speeder. She grunted with a pain and tears of agony streamed out again as her body registered the broken ribs and what felt like a fractured skull.

“Dearie me. You aren’t doing well, are you?”

Quin snapped around to see a bent over old woman with a huge nose. She had a borderline toothless smile and barely any hair stuck her her head. Her clothes were a little tattered, leaving a couple holes here and there and she wasn’t wearing shoes. Her face was covered in pock marks and blemishes, with recessed eyes that she couldn’t tell the color of.

“My...you are worse off than I thought. Come with Tiabbat now. I will get you fixed up all nice and cutesy!” She tried to take Quin’s hand to lead her away, but Quin pulled away and took a step back.

“Tiabbat? What? Where am I?” She said, looking around for a moment. She froze cold when she looked away from Tiabbat. In the corner of her eye, she saw something move around the old woman. Something dark. She snapped back and it was gone.

“You are in my forest, Dearie. Do not worry. You are safe.”

She reached out and grabbed Quin’s wrist. The hand was as cold as death and burned her skin to the touch. Quin tried to pull away but the woman’s grip was tight. “Do not fight me, child. Tibbat will get you healed up just fine!” She wrenched Quin forward and she was all but helpless to fight against it as she dropped to the ground for a moment, feeling her side explode in pain. She shut her eyes tight as she was dragged slowly away from the lpond towards the darkness of the forest. She opened them and she saw the dark thing from before again. She got a slightly better look at it now, a malformed thing with an unstable aura about it. She reoriented her body and dug her heels into the ground.

“LET-” She raised her other fist and slammed down onto Tiabbat’s wrist. “-GO,” She fell back onto the ground as the grip was broken and she stood up in a hurry, grabbing at her side.

“Child…,” The woman faced away from her. “This is my forest.” She turned around and Quin backed up in shock. The woman’s eyes had sunken into a terrifying emptiness, leaving nothing but a black void. “You have trespassed and now must pay.” The woman took a step forward, for a split second the reality around her shattered and a humungous black beast took coporeal form. The woman’s fingers snapped and cracked as they lengthened into claws. She took another step forward and the true beast under Tiabbat’s skin showed for a split second yet again, her legs and spine snapped as she grew in size, taking on more of her true form. Her jaw twisted and formed into a terrifying visage with long jagged teeth and a venemous maw. Her claws had taken on a dark blue hue and her skin became a sickening black.

“Your Soul belongs to ME”

The dark beast lunged at her with claws extended and Quin had to tear her self out of the deep undulating fear-trance that she was momentarily trapped in just to jump out of the way. Her heart was in her throat and thus she had nary room to scream or breathe as she scrambled to her feet and ran for her life.

Plunging head long into the shadow of the forest, she felt the beast on her heels. Instinctively jumping out of the way before running into a tree, the beast slammed into the tree with a loud grunt. Quin rolled to her feet and took off, but before she got far the beast was already in the trees above her. She skidded to a stop as the beast dropped down in front of her. She could see it’s eyes now, white as phosphorous in the darkness. It bent down to head level and roared, freezing her in her tracks and momentarily stopping her heart. A swipe came up from underneath her and her chest was ripped open, throwing her back against a tree. She slumped down to the ground, dazed from hitting her head against the tree. She shook it off and opened her eyes to the beast approaching.

She was frozen, unable to fight or run away. The beast had completely annihilated any chance of survival. Her breaths came out ragged as the beast closed in. A low growl emanated from it as it squatted back and lunged at her again. She shut her eyes, wincing, but just before hitting an explosion echoed from somewhere close and she opened her eyes to see the beast flying backward to hit a tree. It dropped to the ground and roared at the direction the explosion had come from. It tried to move but a brilliant flash of white hit it in the chest and head at the same time, throwing it backward again.

From Quin’s side, a huge man stepped in front of her brandishing two strange looking pistols. She could hear a voice yelling at her but not from where it was coming from.

“Stay down and don’t move.”

The man put his pistols inside of his trench coat and threw out his arms, two flashes of white on his palms following the flourish to reveal two huge disk-blades. The beast had finally gotten up from the barrage of bullets and was staring down the man that stood between it and it’s prey.

“Beast, you shall be purged of this land and you shal claim souls no longer.”

With great speed, the man pulled his arm back behind his torso and threw the disk in his right hand, quickly followed by the left. The beast, on all fours, sprinted forward and ducked under the first but took the second in the shoulder, howling as the weapon burned it’s blackened skin. The blades reappeared in the man’s hands and he ran at the beast now. The beast lunged at him with claws extended and he ducked and slid underneath, coming up with both blades and catching the beast in the jaw, using the momentum to carry the beast right into the ground with great force. Dirt sprayed and the knight pulled his arm back for the killing blow, but hit nary but earth as the beast’s form dispersed and swirled around the man. The beast took on another form, one of a snake, and trapped the man in a vice. Being crushed, the man released his blades and forced his palms against the beast’s snake-skin.”

Bellowing once again, the beast used it’s body to throw the man far from itself, slamming him against a tree. He dropped down, his fancy hat floating down nearby and flourished his hands, momentarily revealing the twin crosses and resembled the one on his hat and trench coat. His blades were summoned again and he walked towards the beast, whom hissed in retaliation. The form exploded into a puff of smoke, moving towards the man and taking on another form as it did; that of a great wolf this time.

The man slammed his blades together and another flash of white followed. He ran a hand out along an imaginary edge and a greatsword, a golden flamberge, followed. He gripped it with both hands and met the beast head on, coming at it with an underhanded slash as the wolf-beast tried to tackle him. He followed the slash through, stepping to the side almost effortlessly as he did and ripped opened the beast’s stomach. Darkness spewed forth from the massive wound and the beast howled in pain. It jumped away before the man could do anything more and returned to the form it took when chasing Quin. It held its stomach, looking between the man and Quin.

“She is already mine. Your efforts are in vain, Inquisitor.”

The beast looked at Quin, grinning devilishly as it did. The Inquisitor unholstered a pistol and aimed, but didn’t get a shot off before the beast roared and took off into the woods. The Inquisitor wasted no time in running to Quin’s aid. When he got to her, she was fading fast. He took her into his arms and ran into the darkness.

______________________________________

Light.
“Awaken, outlander.”

Quin’s eyes slowly opened to see the man from before, having retrieved his hat and was sitting in a small chair before a white-flame campfire. “Do not be alarmed by the fire. It is of my own making, a spell that keeps monsters at bay...well, monsters not like myself anyway.” He said. “Feeling better?”

She tried to rise from where she lay but found that she couldn’t move. She wasn’t restrained, but her body refused to respond. “Don’t bother. Vicar’s poison, it paralyzes its victims. I’ve neutralized it for the most part, but a few...problematic side effects will still take place at he had ripped open your chest and exposed your mind to the toxin so quickly. You should be able to speak, but I’m afraid that it won’t last long.” He sighed. “I am Lucius Keldon of Randor, Land of the North, pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“W- won’t last long?” Quin strained. She swallowed hard, her mouth and face twitched with the effort of trying to move limbs she could no longer feel.

“Vicar’s poison is much like that of a spider. To dull the body of the prey until they can no longer move. Soon enough you will fall into a deep sleep. Normally, Vicar would feed on his prey after they had fallen into the sleep, but this will not be the same case. You’ll fall into the sleep and he will see into your dreams, but you will be able to resist, unlike the hundreds of others he has devoured.” He said, stoking the pearlescent flame.

“Resist?” she whimpered, “Resist what?”

“He feeds on the fears of the weak. He digs through their mind to unearth their deepest fears and force them to experience them tenfold. Normally, the victim would be oblivious and could not realize that they were dreaming. You will be cut from a different cloth, so to speak. To...render it simple, you will not die while asleep. Persevere and you will awaken.”

“... L- like a nightmare,” she whispered. Quin stared off into the night sky for a moment. Her eyes darted around the tiny patch of stars exposed by the tightly packed trees and the stark shadows and lights that danced around their branches as the fire flickered beside her. “You aren’t going to… do anything to me? What do you want?”

He was silent for several moments, seemingly concentrating on something passed her. He reached out with his hand toward her face. “Your souuuul” He said strikingly then pulled back, forcing out a laugh. “I am kidding. I require nothing.” He bent over and sighed. “Apologies. Emotion takes it out of me.” He was silent for a moment then straightened. “If you would help me destroy the Vicar once you awaken, it would be appreciated, but you do not have to do any favors in exchange for your safety. If anything, I owe you one considering that you have become an unwilling pawn in my hunt for the Vicar.”

“How… hnn-- kh--,” Quin struggled with words. Her tongue was beginning to go numb in her mouth, “How co-- could I be of any use… to you? I know nothing of th-- thi-- …” she trailed off and rolled her tongue and jaw in frustration. Her eyes were growing heavy.

“We will see when you awake. For now. Sleep. Dream of the sheep, and remember. He has no real power over you. Persevere.”

“Persevere.”

___

Quin’s eyes shot open and she looked around where she was, panicking.

“Pike. Pike. Hun. It’s okay.”

A familiar voice dashed her fears as her eyes settled on Nyrette’s. They were on the harpoon, on a couch in front of the fire in the lounge.

“You were just having a nightmare, hunny. Come here.” Nyrette snuggled up to her lover, placing her head over Quin’s chest and embracing her. “See. Everything’s fine.”

Quin felt herself come to a quickly growing calm and she started to relax. “Eos...was a dream?”

“Eos?” She asked “Is...that a planet or something? Sounds like a cool band name.”

“Wait…” She paused. “When did you cut your hair?” Nyrette’s normally mid-back length hair was freshly cut into an asymmetrical bob, highlighting her eyes….

“And...where is your mask. Why do you have…” Quin started to edge away from Nyrette, whom grabbed a hold of her shirt and held her in place.

“Don’t worry about it.” she said. “Zenithar fixed it.”

“Fix-” Something rang in the back of Quin’s skull. A voice to be precise. Zen’s voice.

“Come on. You know that this is fake. I didn’t manifest from your memories of me for nothing.”

“Nyrette...I have to get something.” Quin tried to leave again, but Nyrette’s nails dug deep into her skin, puncturing her chest.

“NO. Stay here. Vicar will be here soon to take us out.”

The pain was searing for but a moment before Quin’s mind reacted and the pain disappeared.

“This isn’t right.” Quin pushed Nyrette off and stood up.

Just as she did, something slammed itself against the lounge door. Quin froze and turned, feeling for her hip. Her fingers were met with a thin leather strap and cold metal. She drew the weapon with lightning speed and clapped the heavy blaster rifle down in her off hand, aiming it at the door.

Nyrette had frozen as well as Quin had broken off of the rails of the dream, the true reality that Quin knew snapped into sight for a few seconds before reverting. The door exploded off of the metal hinges that had held it in place and Troopers in white and black came screaming into the room, dropping concussion grenades as they charged. They ignored their own bombs as they rushed at the two. Nyrette stood and went for the bar, trying to dive over it but one of the troopers dived into a roll and shouldered his blaster. Before Quin could get a shot off, the expert trooper had fired and Nyrette screamed in pain as the bolt hit her in the arm and ripped it right off. She fell to the ground and tried to crawl away, but a second trooper was on her and slammed her face into the ground.

A pair of troopers charged Quin just before the concussion grenades went off. She got a shot off using her heavy blaster rifle, hitting a trooper right in the skull only for the bolt to just bounce right off. The concussion grenade went off and Quin was blinded by the flash of white. Crushing pain went through her body as she was tackled by the elite trooper, smashing her into the ground. She resisted for but a moment before the trooper planted his knee on her elbows and snapped them. She screamed in agony before the trooper’s fist slammed into her temple and she blacked out.

____

“Wake up, Quin,” ice cold water splashed onto her face. She violently shook her head and got a good look at her captor. Flanked on both sides by the same two troopers that beat her face in, a man that she knew from the republic placed down a bucket. He was well known in the Republic SIS as a hero. Wilhuff Tarkin.

“Captain...Tarkin?” she said, exhausted.

“Grand moff Tarkin,” he said, a scowl marring his face. “You have been on the run for quite some time now. It is good for the empire to have its most...loyal...agent in its hands again.”

“The empire?” she asked.

“What you once knew as the republic,” he smiled. “Lord Scurus has been rather kind in her erasure of the republic from the galaxy.”

Her entire reality shattered as he spoke the words. “The entire republic...erased?”

“Destroyed.”

“Huh…” Zen’s voice rang out in her head again. “You should probably let me know that you’re force sensitive...or maybe this is a side effect of Miraluka bonding...that did happen to me too a few years ago. Either way. Yeah. You don’t remember this at all. Your dreams are giving you premonitions. Glimpses of the future. How exciting! Don’t tell Nyrette.”

Quin closed her eyes for a moment, trying to regain her composure after her mind’s interjection.

“No no. There shall be no sleeping for you. Ginger?” The soldier on the right nodded sharply and slugged Quin in the side of the head. She yelled out in pain and she was forced to open her eyes. Her mind struggled to keep calm with the mental abuse.

“You will tell us where the rest are. Especially the Togruta and Gray Sith Lord.”

She closed her eyes again and took a deep breath.

“Whisper. Remind her not to disobey me.” The soldier on the left clocked back a haymaker and let loose all over Quin’s face, snapping her head to the side and into the metal wall. Her ears rang loudly from the concussion that ripped her brain apart. A second one came her way that nearly finished her, but the soldier knew exactly how hard to hit. “More, sir?” The female soldier said. “She’s good for one more.”

“Not to her. But to the agent. She will watch her mistakes come to fruition.” Tarkin said.

“With pleasure, sir.”

______

“I can’t find her anywhere.” Nyrette’s voice rang in Iisska’s head.

“I am unable to as well.” Marquis’ voice sprang up as well.

“I don’t know where she might have gone. Delbor said to never enter the deep forest. She could be anywhere in there.” Cynthia’s soothing voice calmed Iisska a little.

“Luke? Tristain? Do you know anything about this deep wood?” Marquis asked

“Only that it is deeply cursed.” Luke said. “Nobody that goes in there returns. There was a few rumors a couple years ago about how even a group of inquisitor officers went to scour the deep wood for rogue Haemonculi and never returned. I don’t know if we will find her.”

“You gone too far, Brother.” Cheshik’s words stung. “Quin gone. Soon you may be too. Not by my hand. By your own.”

___

Iisska came to outside of the Harpoon. His vision was hazy and he couldn’t remember how he got to where he was. “The...fuck?” He thought to himself as he groggily stood up. His shirt was spattered with Quin’s blood, like she had just run away moments before. The campsite was empty and the Harpoon sat alone.

Seeing as it was the only place where everybody could be, he walked up to the opening ramp and stepped up and inside. He scratched his head as he did, his skin crawled from some feeling in his gut. Something wasn’t right.

“Hey, Isska.” Isska froze at the sound of the voice. It was Zen’s voice. “Good to see you return from your drunken stupor.”

“Zen…? Where have-”

“Heard about what you did. They’ve left you know. While you were out. Packed up and went their separate ways. You betrayed Cheshik, Nyrette’s heart is shattered, the Twins are too afraid of you...now it’s just you and me,” Zen cut him off. He sat on a small crate with his feet propped up facing away from Iisska.

“You left,” Iisska finally blurted out.

“And I came back thinking that you would have handled things. Done as I have trained you to do. Seems that you have failed at even the simplest of things.” Iisska was frozen; His skin started to burn, boil under the pressure that was in the room.

“And now Quin has passed away. You have no idea what you have done.” Zen stood up, kicking aside the box. “You have disrupted the balance by killing an innocent and turned to the dark beast inside you.”

He turned. “And I aim to restore the balance.”

He shot out his hand and a torrential force of power hit Iisska all across his body, firing him right back out of the hanger and head first into the dirt outside. He scrambled to his feet only for the force to grip his entire body and slam him into a tree, leaving a deep impression. He fell to the ground after peeling himself off and groaned, trying to get to his feet.

Zen walked down the harpoon’s ramp, the force swirling around him in a hurricane of power and anger. Iisska finally got to his feet and put his hands up in a protective wall of the force but quickly remembered that he didn’t have access to it and winced just before another force of nature threw him into the air and redirected him mid flight, bringing him back down into the dirt with incredible force. In the split second of consciousness he had left, he wondered how in the hell he was still alive.

With nothing but a sliver of his power, Zen raised his former apprentice into the air and drew him close for a choke hold, activating his lightsaber as he did. Zen wrapped his hand around Iisska’s throat, puncturing one side with how tightly he held him. Iisska struggled to breathe and tried to wriggle out.

“I should never have dragged your sorry ass out of that junk yard. I should never have taken you as my apprentice. You are weak. Uncontrollable. Pathetic. Unworthy of even the lowest teachers. And now…”

Zen impaled Iisska through his abdomen. “May you burn in the void.”

________

“-ska! Wake up!” Iisska shot up in his bed, his heart pounding, his body drenched in sweat. Cynthia stood next to him, a hand on his shoulder, looking worried. “You were screaming really loud. I was worried.”

He couldn’t manage to catch his breath as he pushed away from Cynthia. He nearly fell while shambling off the bed, took a few steps, placed his back on the wall and slid down to the floor.

“Get out of here,” he muttered.

She didn’t move, instead watching him with her eyes furrowed in worry. She got up and knelt down in front of him, placing a hand on his. “It’s alright, Iisska. Talk to me.”

“I said, get out.” He snatched his hand away from her and glared.

“Iisska….” She said, not leaving his side.

“NO!” He shot up and stomped to the other side of the room “Don’t fucking talk down to me! It’s not alright, okay!? It’s not!”

“I’m not talking down to you.” She said, sitting still and watching him. “I’m just trying to help.”

“Where is she?” he turned on Cynthia.

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t know?” he sneered, “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means that I don’t know where she is, Iisska.” She snapped back.

“Well she didn’t just ‘poof’ out of existence!”

“I know that. Nyrette, Cheshik and myself scoured all over. We couldn’t even find a trail.”

“Don’t feed me that! She shouldn’t have been able to walk! And all the--” He made a gesture over his face and looked sick before cutting himself off and starting for the door. “There has to be a trail. I’ll find it.”

“Cheshik won’t let you leave the ship.” She sighed.

“He can’t stop me.” Iisska flung the door open.

“Are you really going to attack another friend?” She asked.

Iisska stopped and his shoulders tensed. He shuddered a little and glared back at her. “No. I don’t have to attack him, I just have to out-run him. What? You want me to stand around here and do nothing?”

“Iisska, it would be best if you did. You...you have done a lot of damage.” She paused for a time. “They think you’re a monster.”

He took a long rattling breath and put a hand on the doorway to support himself. There was the empty hallway. All he had to do was run down to the cargo bay as fast as he could and escape through the damaged hull. If only his knees hadn’t turned to jelly. He opened his mouth to speak and shut it again.

“Iisska. Please.”

“They’re right,” he shrugged, “Then I shouldn’t be here. No point in fixing up this pile of shit if I’m just gonna snap and kill everyone first. I’ll go find Quin, bring her back, then you’ll never have to see me again.”

“I don’t want you to leave. It’s too nice seeing you every morning.”

Iisska snorted and shook his head. “What kind of backward priorities…” He let himself take a few steps back into the room and paused before turning to face her. “Doesn’t change much. I can’t stick around… I don’t think.”

“Of course you can. They won’t say so right now, but if you left...things would break apart. They...we all need you. Quin is resourceful, she’ll be back. That, at least, I know. There was something you told me you did before you came here...mediation, I think. Why...why don’t we try it and calm down.” She was a little nervous as she said it.

“Pfft, eh, no offence, but that stuff never really worked out for me. Some things… and people can’t be fixed.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try, at least, would it?”
“I dunno… sitting for a long time hurts my ass… and I might get bored.” He couldn’t keep from cracking just a hint of a smile. “Whatever you say.”

_________

Thrown into a cell and left to rot, Quin didn’t know where she was. There was a solitary window across from her where rain pecked through the bars and into the room. A light thunderstorm was erupting outside, but the walls were thick enough that she could only hear the muffles through the window. She had watched Nyrette be dragged away to be executed for her crimes, she saw the entire crew killed without mercy, and now she was left to live with her choices.

She sat in a corner of the room, the faint light from outside illuminating her while she had her knees drawn to her chest as she hugged them in sorrow. She was alone in the dark. Nobody was coming for her now as they had been all eliminated by the republic she used to know, rebranded as “The Empire”. She didn’t have the will to fight and survive anymore. Everything was gone.

She was alone. Yet...something stirred in the dark.

“Outlander...you have such a beautiful sorrow about you.” There, in front of her, she saw it. From the forest on Eos. The piercing white eyes of the creature of the forest. “I have dined on the souls of kings and queens. Arch-wizards and great witches. Few compare to the soul that I see now yet cannot reach. That god forsaken inquisitor has locked out behind a cell door and I cannot reach you, my child.” It sat at arms length from her, unmoving. She couldn’t bring herself to move. She wasn’t shackled or restricted in the slightest, her body simply refused to move anymore.

“Child.” The creature’s hand entered the light, sitting mere inches from her body. “Take my hand. Allow me to take away the pain that you have endured. Let the nightmares stop.”

She stared at the grotesque hand, matted scales and boils covering it from the decades of terror. Long fingers with razor sharp nails at the end. Her hand trembled as her mind fractured into pieces, she wanted to just take it’s hand and finally rest...but deeper in her mind, something sprouted from the tiniest of seeds. A miniscule light of hope in her. The sight of the harpoon and everybody smiling. In her mind, the shadows that had grown were being snuffed out one by one. She felt something in her hand; a handle of sorts. Her head swivled down to see what it was. A vibroknife.

She refused to die.

Leaping to her feet, Quin screamed and jumped at the monster in front of her. It didn’t react in time, only managing to yell in surprise as Quin slammed Nyrette’s knife into it’s throat. It bellowed and fell backwards with Quin on top of it, stabbing into it’s chest and face wildly while it convulsed and fought back as hard as it could. It got hands around her waist, but it was a waste of time for it as Quin planted a hand on it’s head, slamming it to the side while she plunged the knife deep into it’s cranium.

____

She bolted upright in the makeshift bed in Lucius’ camp, her chest heaving and her mouth parched. She was immediately given a tankard of water and a serving of salted bread. “It is uplifting to finally see you rise.” She downed the water and bread with reckless abandon, daring not to slow down for fear of falling back asleep. “Slow down, girl. You’re going to kill yourself.” She ignored him, finishing the loaf of bread in less than a minute and washing it down with a second tankard of water. When she had finished she sat back and ran a hand over her face, digging off the sleep-dust that had built up around her eyes.

“You have been out of commission for about four days. For a time, I thought you might not wake up, but I am glad to see that my thoughts were misplaced.” He pulled a pack from behind him and placed it to his side. “Come. Stand up.” He stood and held out his hand, helping Quin to her feet. She nearly fell right back to the ground from not having stood in four days, but with Lucius’ help, she regained her footing and was able to stand decently well. “Walk and run around a littl-”

In the darkness, a dreadful howling echoed through the forest. Quin felt a clawed hand wrap around her heart, she knew exactly what was howling.

“It seems that we lack the time for you to fully recover. Here.” He knelt down and picked up the large backpack. “Some leather armor, a heavy crossbow, and some bolts. I dipped the bolts in holy water. Take them.

She nodded, but only took the leather armor, saying that she doesn’t need the crossbow.

“I insist, please.” But she refused again before pulling Nyrette’s vibro-blade from her boot, popping the visceral blade from it’s hilt. “A dagger...very well. The beast will fall either way.” He knelt down at the campfire and collected a few things that he had placed about.

“Are you ready? Once I snuff out my soulfire, there is no turning back.” She strapped a leather bound piece of armor to her shoulder and a piece of leather armor to her chest, nodding.

Lucius snuffed out the flame, leaving them in darkness.

____

Walking side by side, Quin and Lucius followed the howling of the dark beast that Quin had defended herself against. According to the Inquisitor, it was in the same part of the forest that he had found Quin in. Even though she refused to use the crossbow, Lucius had pleaded with her to carry several bombs of holy fire. They bounced slowly along her chest, hooked onto the leather armor, as she walked.

They entered the grove for the second time and saw the beast by the river, holding it’s stomach. Black blood was strewn about the ground. It seems that Quin had done physical damage to the beast in her dreams, weakening it severely.

It snapped around, staring them both down, and roaring loud enough to hurt Quin’s ear drums. “You! You dare approach me!” It screamed. It turned around fully and stood at full length. It seems Quin did much more damage than she thought as it’s stomach was completely ripped open. Black organs could be seen in the light given off by the river, there was a small pool of blood at it’s feet. “I will not allow you to live for your defiance!”

“Stay your feet, Quin. Now is not the time.” The Inquisitor summoned his dual glaives and held them at his side while Quin took a couple steps backwards.

The beast broke into a crazed four legged sprint, coming right for the Inquisitor. He threw his glaives at the beast as it charged him. Once smashed into the beast’s side while the other missed entirely. Lucius summoned his glaives again and smashed them together just as the beast was upon him, he wound back his flamberge and slammed it into the beast’s skull, but it all but ignored it. His blade was wretched from his hands as the Inquisitor was thrown backwards by the beast’s crazed attack.

He slammed into a tree and dropped to the ground only to be slammed against it again and grabbed, thrown into the canopy only to drop down moments later. The inquisitor rolled to his feet, summoning his weapons again as his foe jumped at him from above. He dropped down and came up with his glaive, catching the beast in the throat, using his body to stop the momentum. Before the beast could overpower him again, Lucius ripped the glaive up the beast’s exposed organs and ripped at the throat.

The beast broke off of the Inquisitor, stepping back for only a moment before wrapping a bloody hand around the Inquisitor’s throat, lifting him off of the ground several feet. The Inquisitor stabbed at the beast’s arm in an attempt to escape, but the beast used it’s free arm to grab at Lucius’ leg and slam him into the ground once, twice, thrice, four times, before swinging him around and throwing him into a tree with enough force to topple the tree itself.

With the Inquisitor out of the way, the beast turned towards Quin. “I will have your soul, Outlander.” The beast’s voice rang in her head as it approached her. She grabbed one of the three bombs on her chest and threw it at the beast, but it just swatted it away before it could detonate. It exploded in the darkness in a brilliant white light for but a few moments before disappearing.

“I know what you fear. I know what will break you.” Smoke enveloped the beast for several moments as it changed. Quin grabbed her dagger and popped the blade out of the sheathe, readying herself, but she was not ready for the monster that stepped out of the smoke.

A grotesque, deformed, harrowing vision of Iisska stepped forward, his horns were misshapen and too long, his skin pitch black and scaley. His fists were balled up into large metal gauntlets that shined with the blood that still seeped from his stomach. He smiled, fangs extending past his jaw line, but all Quin could focus on was the bright white eyes that pierced the darkness. As he stepped towards her, he twitched and spasmed randomly, instability wracking him at his core.

He charged at her, the ground kicking up into the air in his wake.

When he reached her, he raised both of his fists into the air to drop them down on Quin’s head. She jumped out of the way and dropped a bomb at her feet. He dropped into it and it exploded in his face, making him bellow out in agony as the holy fire scorched his face. He came at Quin faster, throwing punch after punch at her. She barely dodged them with how fast they were coming, but with a haymaker barely missing her face, she came up and plunged her knife into the beast’s chest before ripping it out and sticking it right back into his chest, stabbing once more before he back handed her and threw her back. She landed on the ground only to roll to the side when the beast punched where her abdomen was. He followed her, punching right where she was as she crawled and rolled away. She finally got onto her hands and rolled backwards onto her feet only to be nearly caught off guard as the beast hammered her defence, mixing elbows and feet into each attack to keep her off balance.

She found one more opening when he tried to sweep his leg. She jumped up into the air, flipping the foot long blade, and bringing it down onto the beast’s skull. She yanked it out and slammed it right back in, ripping it out the front of his face. It fell backwards in agony and shrieking, writing on the ground. Quin knelt down to look the creature in the eye. One of it’s eyes was missing and the piercing white eye was trained on hers, almost begging for mercy. She had none to give as she grabbed the last bomb on her chest and plunged it into the mess of organs in the beast’s stomach. She yanked on the fuse at the top of it and stepped back as the bomb went off inside of the unstable Iisska clone, enveloping it in holy white fire. It rolled on the ground back and forth, shrieking and bellowing in pure agony, begging for Quin to save it and for the pain to end. With one last ditch effort, he flipped onto his belly and struggled to his feet, turning to Quin.

He looked at her, unmoving as the flames burned. “I have seen into your dreams. Your memories. Your future.” He said, reaching out. Quin stepped back and he dropped to his knees. “He will abandon you in the lust for power and become a beast like myself.” He whispered quietly. “A monster capable only of death.” He dropped forward and dissipated, the white flame burning away the monster until nary but the ash was left. One of the first rays of the sun broke through the darkness that covered the forest and shined onto Quin, whom was frozen in place, looking at the remains of the beast.

The sun’s light overtook the grove and started to spread over the rest of the forest. Flowers started to bloom in excess as their life was returned to them. “Praise the sun!” Quin heard from in the distance. She saw the Inquisitor approaching, his arms were bent in strange directions and he was limping on an equally strangely bent leg. He held his hat in hand as he approached her. His clothes were torn and tattered but they seemed to be mending themselves via a white light.

“Thank you, Madam.” He said to her happily. “If you do not mind however...could you...ah…” he held his arm out and Quin quietly grabbed it, bracing it against her shoulder and snapping it back into place. “Ahhh. Thank you very much.” He said as he went to snapping the other arm back into place as well as his leg. “You would make a fine Inquisitor, Quin.” He said as he reached to his face and took off the mask, revealing what was underneath.

“Do not be alarmed.” He said as he revealed the skeletal head underneath. The jaw didn’t move as he spoke. “This is my curse, but it is not as harrowing as you may believe.” He said as he gazed up at the burning orb above them. “The sun, the representation of my dear lady Patron Hamara.” He turned to her again and Quin could hear a notable change in his tone. “My dear lady, if I heard the beast correctly, you are an outlander. Is that true?” Quin nodded. “Then I have another request of you if I may be so bold. I have see most of Eos and have been to every continent, but I have yet to see the stars. Might I accompany you?”

Quin stood there quietly and stared at Lucius for a few moments too long after he finished speaking. Then her gaze wandered off to the forest around them. “I’m still dreaming,” she nodded.

“No. You are not.” Lucius said.

“Prove it.”

He shrugged and slapped her. “See. Not asleep right now.”

Quin’s hand flew to her jaw and she gave him a stunned pout. “You-- Tch! That was uncalled for! I just meant that… This is too much to take in so fast.”

“Take your time. The woods should be safe now. If you need to sit down….” He tried to comfort her.

“I don’t.” She sheathed her blade with a snap. “I’ll process on the way… and I would appreciate it if you would accompany me.”

“Then lead the way, Ma’am.”

“Certainly,” she chirped, “I assume that you will be giving me directions from the rear as I haven’t the slightest where we are.”

“I...thought you did.” He admitted.

“An injured and delirious foreigner sprints into a cursed wood where she is accosted by a nightmare beast and a skeleton with a knife fetish, the later of whom takes her unconscious body to a camp further into the wood where she remains asleep for four more days. He then drags her through more of the same indiscernible landscape to face a creature that has no business existing. You seriously think she knows where she is?” Quin asked, “... Do you know where we are?”

He was quiet for a moment, staring at her through his mask. “I do not have a knife fetish…” he said, looking up to the sun. “It is early morning and the sun rises in the east, there is a caravan road that stretches along the eastern edge of the forest. We can go there and see where we are lead.”

“A caravan road?” she asked, “I might be able to find our way to the ship afterall.”