Rescue

The villager looked up at me in awe. Her two children cowered behind her, peering out from behind the folds of her cloak. I heard the two Sith expell the last of their breath from their lungs on the ground behind me. I hooked my vibroknuckler on my belt and knelt down before the frightened family.

"My name is Maast Lofor," I said, "I'm here to rescue you."

It was the fifth such group that I had discovered that week. Rohak had wasted no time in putting me to work for the Aurillians, and had sent me off with Whip to organize a plan for locating several villagers who had been captured by the Sith.

Whip's information was sketchy at best, but it was enough to provide a vague picture of what had happened. During the assault, several groups of villagers had been seen being led away from Aurillia with Sith escorts, presumably for their own nefarious purposes. Their headings had been noted and scouts had reported signs of their movement a few days later, but there was no more detailed information as to their locations. It would be up to me to find them.

I had a fully fueled speederbike with me, a machine that seemed completely alien to the Aurillians. I could travel much faster than even their fastest scouts, so I volunteered to head up the search. I stored the information we had in my datapad and set out.

It didn't take me long to locate the first group. For some inexplicable reason, the Sith were holding them less than five kilometers from the village. It seemed that there was clearly a greater plan at work here, but how this piece fit into it, I could not guess.

Nevertheless, the guards posted with the stolen villagers were weak and ill-trained, and quickly dispatched. Over the course of a week I was able to locate all five of the missing groups and lead them back to Aurillia in safety.

It was a small thing, really, in light of the brutal destruction the village had faced as a whole. But having those five groups of Aurillians back meant a lot to the community. It seemed to give them a small measure of hope, and for that I was grateful.

Rohak expressed his own gratitude to me by giving me a statue that was crafted by Aurillian artisans and represented their village. It was a beautiful piece of art, though getting the five-foot high piece of granite home on the bike seemed like it would be a challenge in and of itself.

Then I was offered the true reward: knowledge.

From the unlikeliest of places came a wealth of information. It turned out that Whip, the small, unassuming man who was the first Aurillian I met, was something of a specialist in survival skills. These were not everyday survival skills, either. As an Aurillian, Whip was Force sensitive, and knew how to manipulate and channel the Force to enhance certain skills. He demonstrated to me his uncanny skills at things like maneuvering difficult terrain (he could move up nearly vertical cliff faces with ease and virtually walk on water over short distances) and interacting or avoiding indigent animal life (I watched him, with my own eyes, mask his own scent and presence and walk into the middle of a pack of hungry Rancors, just to tap one on the nose).

For the next several weeks, I spent all of my time with Whip, learning to survive. My knowledge of the Force grew.

The Aurillian Cycle

Understanding the story of Aurillia requires something of a shift in perception, especially when it comes to the understanding of the passage of time.

For most, the passage of time is a linear experience, with a past, present and future. The present becomes the past and the future passes into the present. There are beginnings and ends, clearly defined phases of time. Those who experience time this way are able to understand finality, completion, closure. Moreover, they can perceive of new experiences, completely unique temporal events that have not yet occurred in their memory.

Aurillians see time in a much different way. In Aurillia, time is cyclic. There is some unknown element that causes time to behave differently in this singular region on Dathomir. Whether this element is the mist surrounding the village, or some other, unseen influence, I do not know, nor could anyone tell me. In fact, when I tried to discuss it with the villagers, they looked at me as if I was speaking a foreign language. I quickly learned to accept this anomaly as simple fact so that I could continue to interact with them.

This made for some difficult mental exercises on my part, as there was no telling what day or time it would be when I emerged again from the mist. Whenever I went to Aurillia, I traveled between two timesets playing by completely different rules.

As you might understand, it is just as difficult for a person accustomed to linear time to understand the cyclic conception of time. I will do my best to relate it in comprehensible terms.

Aurillia is centered on a concentration in the Force. This is perhaps the most likely reason for the temporal inconsistencies in the area. There is no record of why this concentration exists, or what purpose it serves. The Aurillians know that it exists, as they are sensitive to the Force. They channel it for their purposes, which primarily consist of perpetual defense against the Force-sensitive Sith.

The Sith, at least the faction of that group that concerns Aurillia, are a group of Force-sensitive fanatics aligned with the Dark Side of the Force. They seek to exploit the Force for their own gain and for the acquisition of power.

The Sith know of Aurillia, and know of its connection with the Force. They seek to conquer the village stronghold and capture control of the concentration focused there. Because of this, the Aurillian elders maintain the mist surrounding the village. It prevents those from entering who are not sensitive to the Force, as well as blocks the movements of those aligned with the Dark Side. It is a powerful barrier, but not one that cannot be overcome. With sufficient numbers and consolidated power, the Sith can penetrate the mist and attack the village.

You may notice that I speak of everything here in the present tense. That is because in Aurillia, there exists only the present. This is the closest approximation of cyclic time that I can present in linear terminology. If the village were in a space governed by linear time, I would say that everything that happens in Aurillia has happened already in the past, and will happen again in the future. As it is, the village follows cyclic time, and the events there are in a perpetual state of occurring.

The cycle of events roughly follows this progression:
The Sith ready their forces, combine their efforts and assault Aurillia in a large-scale effort.
The Aurillian defense prevails, but only barely.
Aurillia is nearly destroyed during the attack and must rebuild completely.
The Aurillians train their citizens in the Force for defense against the Sith.
The Sith attempt periodic strikes in small groups, without success.
The Sith ready their forces, combine their efforts and assault Aurillia in a large-scale effort...

This is the tenuous cycle that prevails in Aurillia. It is unknown how long it has existed in linear time. For indeed, it does not exist at all in linear time. It is a cycle unto itself, governed only by the mysterious laws of the Force.

The story Rohak told me, of course, was separate from the linear perspective, and consequently rather different from what I have related here. It took me a long time to grasp what was actually going on in the village.

Rohak had never heard of the Jedi. He knew nothing of the old Jedi council, much like the Twi'lek I met on Dantooine, named K'te. Indeed, none of the Aurillians knew much of anything at all about life outside of their village, much less on planets other than Dathomir.

Yet they were skilled in the use of the Force (though they had no similar name for it). They practiced these skills to prepare in their defense against the Sith. They did not weild lightsabers, but they were proficient at manipulating the Force in ways far beyond what I was capable of. They accepted their Force skills as natural abilities that needed honing like any other trait. Aurillia, then, was a sect of people very grounded in the living Force, yet completely outside of Jedi lore.

"You passed through the mist," Rohak told me, "This tells me that you are cunning. You say that you defeated several Sith by your own hand. If this is true, this tells me that you are true of heart, as well."

"It is true," I answered.

"If you are willing to prove your integrity to us," the elder continued, "We will train you to better your skills. In return we ask only that you use those skills to aid our defense."

It dawned on me quickly what was taking place. Rohak was recruiting me to the Aurillian effort to repel the Sith. More importantly, though, he was offering me training.

Force training.

With the Jedi all but extinct and the only known heir to their lore deeply entrenched in the war to defeat the Empire, it seemed that Aurillia was the last outpost of Force knowledge in the Galaxy. I was certain my Path had led me here purposefully, and doubted that another such opportunity would present itself again.

Solemnly, I nodded to Rohak. "I will do whatever I can to help you. I am grateful for the opportunity to learn."

Rohak nodded back to me. "Such is the way it shall be, Maast Lofor. You shall reinforce our struggle, while we strengthen you. Together, we shall overcome all odds."

Thus began my training in Aurillia.

Rohak

Whip led me into the village of Aurillia, past smouldering, ruined buildings, the wreckage of all manners of structures. I sensed fear and anguish all around. The voices I heard all around me were filled with dispair. Horror had been visited on Aurillia, and its touch still lingered.

To the center of the village we walked, until we reached what appeared to be a central meeting area. An elderly man stood speaking to a soldier dressed in battle-worn armor. Whip approached the older man and said a few words, then beckoned me over.

"This is Rohak," Whip said, "He is the Elder of Aurillia."

I bowed my head. "I am honored," I said.

"Whip tells me that you survived a Sith attack," Rohak said. His voice crackled with age.

I nodded, then briefly recounted my tale of meeting the mysterious old man, and the subsequent Sith ambush. I showed Rohak the crystal that the old man had given me. He examined it silently, then looked at the soldier next to him with a raised eyebrow.

"This is Captain Sarguillo," Rohak said finally. "He will show you to a place where you can rest. You've had a long journey, I'm sure you're tired. Rest, and we will speak again later."

With that, Rohak nodded to the soldier Captain Sarguillo, then turned and headed off into the village.

The Captain brought me to a small hut at the edge of the meeting area. There was a small cot inside. He motioned to it, then departed, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I did not think I was very tired at first, as I had only journeyed a few kilometers from my camp that day. Nevertheless, after a few minutes I felt the weariness of the whole journey on Dathomir wearing on me, and I dozed off into sleepy blackness.

Sometime after the fall of night, I was awakened by Whip and led to see Rohak once more.

For the next several hours, I learned the story of Aurillia.

The Village

It is a strange sensation, suddenly encountering something that you did not know was there. It is something akin to falling from a great height with no sense of how far you are from the ground. That was the sensation that ran through my body when I crossed through the mist.

The mist.

The mist that was not there, yet was everywhere. From a distance I saw only a barren, empty plain. Yet after only a few hundred meters of driving from the edge of the tangled Dathomirian forest, I was suddenly engulfed in a deep blue fog, so thick that it eliminated almost all visibility and forced me to slow my bike to a crawl. I could not explain what it was, but I sensed that it was a protective cover of some kind, concealing whatever was beyond it. I felt nothing on my skin as I passed through it, but I sensed that it was there, teeming with a power of some kind.

The mist persisted for several hundred meters before suddenly dropping off. I emerged suddenly on the other side of the mysterious expanse after several hundred meters, and the air was suddenly clear again. It was darker, though, as if the light had been blotted out. I looked up and saw that the mist not only covered the ground, but extended up into the sky, creating a sort of enormous dome.

To say that I was without fear at this point would be a lie. The mist was such an alien entity, such an unexpected turn of events that I could feel myself tensing involuntarily. Yet I was determined to get to the bottom of this. I pressed on.

After about another kilometer's drive, a plume of smoke appeared on the horizon. Soon, I saw a large wall appear ahead of me. I slowed as I approached to get a better view of what lay ahead.

It was a settlement. The wall surrounding it was a defense installation, but that defense had been breached. There were gaping holes all around it, and evidence of explosions and carbon scoring. There were no sounds of battle currently, but it was clear that a large one had occurred here, and not long ago.

I drove around the perimeter of the wall until I reached a gate. There, I was surprised to find a young man. Small enough to be mistaken for a boy, he clutched a battered stun baton and stood nervously, shifting his weight back and forth. When he saw me, he swallowed and took a step back.

"Stay back!" he warned. "Don't come any closer!"

I shut down my speeder and dismounted slowly, then raised my hands in a peaceful gesture. I did my best to exert a calming influence. "I'm not here to hurt you," I said.

"Who are you?" the man said quickly, "Why are you here?"

"My name is Lofor," I answered. "Maast Lofor. I'm here because...because I'm looking for information. I was attacked. One of those who attacked me was carrying this." Cautiously, I reached into a pocket and produced the waypoint datapad that I had found on the Sith thug. I offered it to the man.

With even more caution, he approached me, stun baton always at the ready, and took the datapad from my hand. His eyes widened as he looked at it, and seemed to recognize the device. "They attacked you?" he said.

"Yes," I nodded, "They tried to kill me."

An incredulous look crossed his face. "And yet, you live."

"I defended myself. The won't trouble anyone again."

The man swallowed again, but his demeanor had clearly changed. I sensed relief in him.

"Where am I?" I asked. "What is this place?"

"This is Aurillia," he answered. "My name's Whip."

Dathomirian Trek

I frowned and checked the waypoint datapad again, for the fourth time. The location marked should have been just over two kilometers from where I was standing, but all I saw in front of me was a large, empty expanse of Dathomir's scarred landscape. There was nothing there.

I had driven for what had seemed days since arriving at Dathomir's tiny Science Outpost, one of two locations on the planet where anybody lived. In reality, it had been a trip of about six hours. At first, I had feared an encounter with a Nightsister, or perhaps something even worse, but in the end it was the environment of the planet itself that was the biggest hindrance.

Dathomir's confounding surface is riddled with an extensive network of valleys and chasms, like the deep scars of a vicious attack by some ancient, clawed giant. Such environmental hazards are difficult enough to maneuver through with a speederbike, which performs best over level ground. To add to the misery, though, Dathomir's ravines are infested with a vile species of tree, that is more a weed than anything else, but astoundingly hardy and tangled. Driving through it is almost always impossible. Consequently, a lot of time is wasted trying to find alternate routes around particularly thick patches of this vegetation.

After six hours of hard riding, I now stood on a small rise at the edge of one such ravine, where I had a clear vantage point of the landscape to the east, for several kilometers. From the intelligence I had gathered from the dead Sith, I expected to see a settlement of some kind, a town, an encampment, something. Anything. But there was nothing but an odd, empty plain.

And yet...not empty.

As I concentrated on the distant horizon, I could feel a faint glimmer of presence rippling through the Force. There was something out there, I was now sure. What or where it was, though, was beyond my skill to know. To find out, I would have to venture out into the empty expanse I saw before me.

That, however, was a task for another day. Exhausted, dehydrated and sore, I made camp for the night. Tomorrow, I would investigate the mysterious plain to the East.

Screenshots Update

Just a brief note to say that I've updated the hosting location of my screenshots...

They are now hosted here:
http://photobucket.com/albums/v693/maast/

This site allows for more convenient viewing, as well as direct linking, so I can post pictures into my entries.

On the Dark Planet

It was hard to believe how much time had actually passed since Spiderwell and I had laid the foundations of the Galactic Domination Corporation. It seemed like only yesterday.

But there was no denying the changes that had taken place. When I had last spent any significant time around Mos Nox, the GDC was but a fledgling start-up, with fewer than 10 member partners. I had no political aspirations of any kind. Now, I was the elected Mayor of an independent city-state, and our Corporation was the most powerful group in the northern Dantooine hemisphere.

Consequently, our own businesses and economic interests had grown at an equally exponential rate. Spiderwell's success secret, in my opinion, had always been his skills in interpersonal relationships. The Wookiee just knew how to talk to people (as ironic as that may seem, considering the odd collaboration of howls and growls that is Shiryywook), and as a result, people liked doing business with him. To say that everyone on Dantooine knew Spiderwell of Spiderwell's World of Medicines was only a slight exaggeration, if at all.

It was good to know, then, after all this time, that Spiderwell's defining characteristic had not changed, despite his success. What's more, he was just as willing as ever to lend me his contact files. He knew all manners of Rangers, bodyguards, soldiers for hire. If there was an expedition to be mustered, he knew the personnel to call.

I was humbled by this generosity, of course. But something told me that bringing others along would not be wise. It was just a feeling, perhaps, but it was an insistent one. I needed to investigate the Dathomir location I discovered in the Siths' data alone.

Spiderwell had been on several reconnaisance expeditions to Dathomir, looking for rare herbal roots and vegetation that he sought in order to increase the potency of his buffs. As I had never been there, he was able to provide me with lots of insightful information about the planet.

Dathomir is a dark, foreboding planet. Most sentient beings can survive in its atmosphere, though its terrain is extreme and its native inhabitants dangerous. There are few that are comfortable going to Dathomir, and none who enjoy it. In addition to the brackasets, baz nitches and carnivorous plants that are scattered generously around its forbidding continents, Dathomir is also home to two of of the most feared factions in the galaxy - the Nightsisters and the Spider Mountain Clan. These two groups had been at war for as long as anyone could remember. The Nightsisters were reputed to be weilders of great power, mystic weapons and unstoppable force. Needless to say, I was not excited that the next stage of my journey along the Path would take me to this dangerous place.

Spiderwell and I spent another night at our camp outside Mos Nox, discussing the challenge ahead of me, as well as other municipal matters that needed attention.

At the back of my mind through the whole night, though, were my origins, where all this had began. Thinking about the GDC's fledgling days in that very region of Tatooine carried my mind back even further to Rori, to a spaceflight that was supposed to be a pleasant holiday trip...to an unexpected Imperial encounter and the calamity that sent my life spinning blindly on a Path into the unknown future.

All I knew was that there was something important waiting for me on Dathomir.

What I didn't know, though, was if it was going to give me answers.

It seemed there was only one way to find out.

Attack on the Sith

Within moments of my arrival at the Sith encampment south of Mos Nox, it was clear that my preparations had been unnecessary. Warranted, of course, for the sake of caution, but Spiderwell's best buffs had clearly been overkill.

The encampment consisted solely of a large tent near a smoldering fire pit, surrounded by several dark lumps on the ground. I had parked my speederbike about one hundred meters away and approached on foot, but before I even reached the camp, I knew that these lumps were the Sith bandits.

Was it Jawa Beer that had inebriated them to such a degree that they were the lifeless, unconscious lumps I saw before me? Perhaps it was a case of Bantha Blasters, stolen from the cantina in Bestine. Whatever the cause, it was readily apparent that the entertainment they had provided themselves with the night previous had taken charge of these worthless beings.

I stopped at the edge of their campsite, literally tapping my foot in the dust and surveying the spectacle before me with disgust. Certainly I did not relish the thought of slaughtering sleeping, drunken slobs such as the ones before me, however vile I was certain they to be. Yet searching their bodies and escaping without a fight did not seem right, either. Considering, I stepped forward and quietly prodded one of the sleeping forms with my boot. There was no response. The Sith did not even budge. I bent over to have a closer look at him. During the attack by the first three Sith I encountered, I hadn't had a great deal of time to examine them closely. I wanted to see exactly what it was I was dealing with.

As I stooped near the lifeless form, a dark wash of dread ran down the length of my spine. Too late, I had sensed a trap.

With incredulity, I watched the dark lump at my feet roll swiftly away, then rise to its full height. The Sith was awake. In my peripheral vision, I saw movement from the other side of the camp. All of the Sith were awake!

Cursing my own arrogance and stupidity, I took several quick steps back and raised my vibroknuckler to the ready. Just a moment earlier, I had been telling myself I was overprepared. Now, as dark shapes rose ominously all around me, I realized just how wrong I had been. I had been far too confident in my meager abilities with the Force, and it might cost me my life.

I struggled to calm my emotions as the dark figures advanced toward me. There were six of them, each carrying a gaderiffi baton with a confidence that suggested much more extensive training and skill than I had previously surmised. This wasn't going to be easy. My suspicions of their competence were further confirmed when they didn't rush me. I had expected them to come at me with everything they had, like the last of their kind I had encountered, but instead they approached cautiously, sizing me up with intelligent, ruthless eyes. I couldn't allow them any more time to think than I had already given them.

With a growl, I launched a Spitting Rawl attack at the Sith closest to me. This was a devastating attack that a smuggler had taught me in Kadaara, which crippled the target's sensory abilities and landed a brunt force attack on their torso. The Spitting Rawl can kill an ordinary man within a matter of seconds. The Sith, however, merely stumbled a half-step back, grimaced, and continued to advance toward me. It had taken the brutal hit with hardly a reaction. Refusing to be intimidated, I dove to the side and shoulder-rolled to my feet, a few meters away from another Sith. Fortunately, this one had not expected this sudden move, and another Spitting Rawl crippled him before he knew what was happening.

At once, there were two more on me. I feinted as if to muster my strength to throw them off me, but then dropped to the ground and thrust upward with my vibroknuckler, making a vicious, slashing arc from one to the other. They fell backward, both screaming in pain.

I rolled to my feet and wiped the blood out of my eyes to see the remaining three Sith crouching in front of me, gaderiffi batons at the ready. Wary after seeing their numbers reduced by half, they waited to see what I would do next, hoping to force me to make the next move.

I was secretly thankful for their hesitation, as the explosion of action I had just unleashed had dramatically exhausted me. If they had pounced, I might have been finished. As it was, I had time to catch my breath and wait for the fatigue to fade somewhat. The largest Sith, directly in front of me, signaled to his companions. They fanned out, circling around behind me.

To anyone untrained for such tactics, a simultaneous assault from three directions spelled almost certain death. However, to a well-trained Teräs Käsi warrior, such a predicament was ideal, contrary as it might seem. A Teräs Käsi Master uses the art like a gunslinger uses firearms. Consequently, just as a Master Pistoleer can turn a situation where he is surrounded on its head, into a deadly crossfire against his enemies, a Teräs Käsi Master can do the same with melee assailants.

The Sith were tough and determined, but they were still thugs at best. They reacted as I had anticipated, rushing forward together and attacking me at different target zones. The two that I could see in front of me were going for my head and torso; I could only assume that the third was targeting my legs. The obvious reaction would be to block the forward attacks to my upper body, but that would leave me exposed to the attack from the rear, which would cripple my legs and end my ability to defend myself.

Sacrifice is sometimes required to gain that which is important. I knew that the Sith would not expect me to take a blow that I saw coming. I would use this to my advantage.

They made their move, the two Sith before me snarling as one came in high and the other in a sweeping arc toward the center of my chest. I threw up my fists to create a blocking wall against the attack targeting my head and tensed my abdominal muscles to receive the second blow. The Sith's eyes widened as he connected - he had not expected to be able to make contact.

I was already reaching out with the Force, however, trying to sense the third Sith behind me. Suddenly I knew where the attack was going. I shifted my hips and lashed out backward with my foot, blindly yet seeing through the Force, connecting squarely with the Sith's nose. It exploded under my heel, and he fell to his back with a cry of agony.

With several quick movements, the two in front of me were dispatched before they knew what was happening. Wasting no time, I picked up one of their gaderiffi batons and spun to face the third, who was cowering on the ground with his hands over his face. I pounced upon him, thrust my vibroknuckler into the soft spot under his chin and lifted it up before me. The metal blade held the thug's head securely in place as I swung the gaderiffi baton into his temple. His mangled head fell to the ground, and he was no more.

Adrenaline and instincts forced me to my feet immediately, urged me to prepare for the next assault, but there was none. At my feet was only the carnage of the attack and the darkened, blood-stained sands of Tatooine.

On the corpse of one of the Sith I located an encrypted datapad, similar to the one given to me in an alley in Wayfar. That one had directed me to the location of Obi-Wan Kenobi's former home. I wondered where this one pointed. Along with the waypoint datapad, I found a data disk, the contents of which I could not discern until I returned to my base camp.

I thumbed my comlink and signaled to Spiderwell that I was returning, and that he should meet me at the camp. Then I mounted my speederbike and roared North.

Spider was waiting for me when I arrived. He looked me over and then roared a comment in Shyriiwook.

"I'm fine," I responded, "It's not my blood."

I showed him the items I had recovered, then pulled my portable terminal from my pack and inserted the data disk. The disk was encoded and access was restricted, but it was a simple password block that was easily routed - another trick the smuggler from Kadaara had taught me. With the protection thus disabled, the information contained on the disk appeared.

"It looks like military plans," Spiderwell commented in Shyriiwook, looking over my shoulder.

I nodded. "They are rendezvous orders and assault plans. It looks like the Sith are gathering for a large-scale assault on a fortification of some kind."

"But where?" Spiderwell asked.

I picked up the waypoint datapad and looked at Spiderwell. "I assume this will give us a clue. It's referenced here, in this file, as the target location. See? The serial number matches the datapad."

"Why wouldn't they just name the location in the files?"

I shrugged. "Maybe for security, in case someone got hold of the plans. They wouldn't be able to identify the target. These two items were probably not supposed to be kept in the same place."

I pressed a button on the underside of the datapad to activate it, but it only responded with a negative-sounding beep.

"Encrypted," Spiderwell said.

I nodded, then pulled a cable from a port in my terminal and connected it to the datapad. I ran a few cracking programs, and soon the encryption was broken. I tried the button again. This time, the datapad responded properly and displayed the coordinates of the Siths' target.

We both looked at it for a moment, then at each other.

"So," I said, "Do you know anything about Dathomir?"

Morning Preparations

I arose an hour before break of day, quickly gathered my things and shook Spiderwell's sleeping form. The wookiee rose with a groan, wiping the sleep out of his eyes and the sand out of his white fur.

As Spider readied his medical droid and prepared his buffs, I knelt before the quiet embers of last night's fire and concentrated, trying to quiet my mind and feel the Force flowing through me. I tried to cast all images out of my mind and focus on sensing my immediate surroundings. As those became clear in my mind, I searched further out, expanding my internal vision in every increasing distances. The Force allowed me to see quite far, nearly into the center of Mos Nox, but it was not yet powerful enough to reach the Sith encampment further to the South.

When I returned to the immediate and opened my eyes, Spiderwell was already applying his buffs to me, grunting softly to himself in Shyriiwook as he did so. He noticed me open my eyes and asked, "Are you ready?"

I nodded silently, feeling for the first time that morning the weight of the task ahead of me. I turned my concentration to my inner body, feeling the power of the buffs' enhancement course through me like silver water. The initial elation of a buff can be psychologically addictive. There were many who, once they tasted one, could not get enough buffs, and eventually succumbed to an overdose of the powerful medicines. For this reason, I acknowledged the euphoric feeling, but reminded myself that it would pass, and set my mind firmly on the task ahead.

During the previous night, I had considered whether a stealth-based infiltration of the Sith encampment might be more prudent, considering the circumstances. Though I did not relish the thought of taking more life, however, I realized that these Sith would press an immediate attack on me, were I discovered. I sensed that the encampment was filled with more of the same tribe as the three who had previously attacked me. There was a great deal of hate to the South. If they truly were of the same ilk, they were not worthy of the consideration of preserving them. They were a scourge to be erased.

Since destruction of the camp was the only answer, I then considered whether calling in reinforcements, such as the Temple City Militia (who were under my sole command), would not be wise. I decided, though, that a large-scale involvement in this matter would likely raise more attention than would be helpful in the long run. If I could decimate the camp quickly and quietly by myself, the chance that a larger force might discern what had happened and come after me was relatively low. If I stormed in with a large assault group, however, the chances of leaving more detailed evidence behind grew exponentially. No, this was a solo effort. I needed to get in and out quietly, then cover my tracks.

Without being able to see into the camp from a distance, I could only sense their presence and create a general plan of strategy for the assault. I discussed a few tactical maneuvers with Spiderwell, mostly to reassure myself of the plan's validity, then rose and swung my leg over my waiting Speederbike. I flipped the ignition switch and the engines erupted with a roar, spewing bright blue flames into the early morning air. With a nod to Spiderwell, I was off.

The Eve of Battle

It was a Sith encampment. I could feel it.

Nothing in the ordinary data waypoint storage device I had retrieved from the corpse of the dead Sith assailant told me this. It gave no indication of what destination it pointed toward, only a location somewhere in the desert several kilometers South of Mos Nox.

Yet I knew that whoever traveled to that location would be facing more of the same scum that had just attacked me. It was a feeling, a tingling throughout my body, yet detached from it at the same time. The Force was speaking to me, and it was telling me to be prepared.

The first three Sith had been dispatched almost without any trouble at all, but an encampment was sure to shelter more than just three. It was time to call in some support.

As I have mentioned before, since leaving Tatooine, Spiderwell had established a reputation for himself as a medical specialist that placed him clearly in the upper echelons of the profession. He was particularly skilled at crafting and applying combat medical enhancement preparations -- more commonly known as "buffs." Buffs are a medium-term enhancement that allow the patient to endure far more physical abuse than would normally be possible, by artificially enhancing the body's natural defenses and pain response. They also allowed a person to undertake physical activity for an abnormally extended period of time, due to their great enhancement of endurance and recovery. The only thing they didn't help was psychic stress and battle fatigue -- common side effects that professional soldiers often experienced after long-term battle, but not something I expected to encounter here.

Spiderwell was on the planet Talus when I reached him, inspecting his water collection installations that supplied his buff production facilities with precious, enhanced Talus spring water. I had been secretive about my Path with nearly everyone except Spiderwell, so there was no need to go into great details about my situation. I told him I needed him, and he came.

Luckily the hop from Talus to Tatooine was not particularly long, and he arrived in Bestine later that night. We made camp outside the northern border of Mos Nox, where we enjoyed the opportunity to catch up with each other and regale each other with stories of the old days. Finally, I explained what had happened to me recently -- about my encounter with the mysterious old man and the attack by the Sith. Spider didn't ask many questions. He just told me that whatever I needed, I had.

My plan, I told him, was to assault the camp at dawn. Under the cover of the early morning desert shadow and the lethargy of the chill in the air, I expected to be able to take them by surprise and dispatch them before they knew what was happening. Then I hoped to learn more about who they were, and what they were doing.

There was no question in my mind that they needed to be exterminated. Though their encampment was still kilometers away, I could feel their presence like a dagger in my back. They reeked with the Dark Side of the Force.

Spider agreed to apply his best buffs to me in the early morning, then stand by in Mos Nox in case I needed further assistance. He dabbled in handgun combat at that time, but was no expert. He could, however, apply more short-term medical enhancements during combat if needed.

Thus agreed, we retired for the night. For several long minutes I watched the stars of the galaxy drift slowly by overhead, and wondered what the next day would bring.

Sith Attack

The Sith were dead almost before I knew they were even there. Their bodies hit the sandy ground with three dull thumps, kicking up three small clouds of dust into the air.

I was on Tatooine to clear up some final real estate arrangements outside of Mos Nox. We were finally letting go our plot of land where the GDC had originally been headquartered, to some local entrepreneurs hoping to make a quick buck on some new-fangled solar energy capture devices. I was just happy to be done with it all - I had no patience for playing landlord anymore.

The Sith had come up suddenly, roaring up on Swoop bikes and howling as they hurled themselves at me. They were human, or humanoid anyway, and frightful in appearance, dressed in dirty, dark cloaks and baring teeth as yellow as the sands of Tatooine.

Instinctively, I lowered myself and extended my right leg, sweeping it in a tight radius - a basic Teräs Käsi defense against a charging attack. The sweep caught two of the Sith and sent them sprawling headfirst into the dirt. The other leaped over my leg, just barely escaping the blow to his shins.

In an instant, I was up and at the ready as the third Sith came at me, this time raising a vicious looking dagger and preparing to strike with all his strength. That was his undoing, of course. I let him throw himself into the blow with all of his power, then simply evaded at the last moment. Before he knew what was happening, the dagger had fallen out of his hand, into mine and was then lodged into his lower back. A sharp twist ensured that his spinal cord would never again send signals to his brain.

The other two were back up and upon me by that time, but they were dispatched more easily than their partner. They launched themselves at me as if to grapple, but with two easy blows they both fell, the bone of their noses impaled into the grey matter inside their heads.

I looked at the three bodies sprawled in the sand around me in bewilderment. I had done battle before, but this was the first time that I had been hunted. Every other encounter I had experienced had been of my own volition, of my own design.

I considered what the Old Man had said, and the crystal he had given me to protect. It must have been what they were after.

I knelt down to search the bodies, to see if I could find any clues as to their origins or intentions. Aside from a few credits, I found nothing on two of them. On the third, however (the one with his own dagger lodged in his spine), I found a datadisc. I picked it up and examined it.

It was a waypoint disc. It told the location of, well, something.

It seemed my return to Dantooine would be delayed. I had a new destination for the time being.