Had the forest moon of Aron Beta been possessed of any standing colonies in its northern continent, one might have born witness to the twin pillars that seemed to be carved into the cliff face of one of its western-facing canyons. Spanning dozens of miles, a massive gouge in the stone formed from millions of years of running water, the barely perceptible design of civilized intent was the only sign of previous habitation one might find on the planet. Beyond this formation, however, the planet was largely uninhabited, and only occasionally visited by surveyors with unfulfilled ambitions to return and exploit its resources. Perhaps more remarkable than these simple ruins was the fact that most people forgot the moon itself even existed.

Acolyte Ruhan felt thankful for that on the one hand, as it meant that nobody was present to see shadow-clad human descend down the cliffs, his black robes in stark contrast to the light-orange stone against the setting sun. A howl of the wind buffeted against him and he cursed, gripping his descent cable tighter and planting his feet against the rocks as his long blonde hair whipped around his pale face. With a wary blue eye he risked a glance below, quickly reminded that in the event that he released his grip, there would be nobody to hear his screams anymore than there would be to find his body.

He breathed in, the tension easing as he waited for the wind to die down, studying the surrounding environment for a few moments. Some few meters away he spotted a long line, a dark burn in the stone that caused his brow to furrow. Keeping his grip on the cord tight he leaned over a bit closer, peering at the line, which seemed to have started from near the top of the cliffs and extended almost to the temple below. With a curious mutter he looked around, making sure he was not being watched. As soon as he was satisfied he braced his boots against the wall and descended again, rappelling down the cliff until the stone gave away into the carved pillars themselves. With no foothold to keep him steady, he loosened his grip and swung back, eyes peering to the shattered stair landing below; to the right were the remnants of a stairwell, carved from the cliff itself but now destroyed and useless, its ruins worn further by millennia of wind and rain. All the remained now was a small landing leading up to the main stairwell, entering the temple itself, no more than a few square meters in size. With a grunt of exertion he released his grip, swinging towards the landing and performing a forward-moving backflip.

His boots stomped into the stonework as he landed cleanly, then straightened and gazed up into the dark entrance ahead. Behind the ruin pillars was a series of statues, each distinct in shape but all imposing in size and grandeur; hooded figures holding ancient swords, blades lined with carvings from a language and script long lost to history. Only the ancient symbol of the Launrian Order, a faction of Force adepts, would have granted a clue to those who stepped within.

To Ruhan, it was proof that his search had not been in vain. He bore a grin as he ascended the stairwell, musing that in the end there were nothing more than statues to impede a disciple of the dark side of the Force from entering their hallowed grounds; no guardians to turn him away, to run him off. Were it a Sith tomb, any number of traps would have triggered just from stepping into the hall, an oppressiveness through the Force that would have tried to cow him into submission. Here there was only dust, and silence.

What light was left outside was not enough to illuminate the way ahead, and once he was deep inside enough that his sight was hampered he drew a simple glow-rod from his belt. Even the low-powered torch was enough to cast away the darkness several meters in every direction, allowing him to see deeper into the abandoned hallways. He stopped briefly at a junction at the end of the hall, where the interior branched off in three separate directions, worn-out carvings in the walls in a dead script offering directions. It did not matter that he could not read them, the acolyte snorting at the unknown lettering and turning to the south; he'd pored over his research on the site for weeks leading up to this moment, insights granted through stolen Jedi holocrons giving him the knowledge he needed to locate his prize.

As the minutes wore on a swagger crept into his stride, a smirk on his face as he gazed at millennia of lost knowledge; a cache of secrets that were now his, power grasped by his own hands instead of thrown from the masters' table like dinner scraps to a dog. Serving the Inquisitorius, and then Circle of Syn, had taught him that the only power that mattered in the universe was that which was either developed through one's own private training, or that which was taken by force; power granted was diluted, cantrips passed on through the ages by those lacking the will or intelligence to create something original, or to keep something exclusive. He had only to consider his surroundings, the lifeless halls of stone and dust that once held a Force culture that had died out and been forgotten. No Jedi nor Sith pretender would step in these halls- what lay within was his alone, kept secret even from his 'master.'

His stomach turned at the mere thought of the word. Had it been Knight Thresher, the shark would have sent his own acolyte, an insipid Lepi with no appreciation for the Force; had it been the traitor Locke, he'd have sought the artifact and been obedient about it, returning it to a withered old man who was banking on long-dead Sith alchemy and the knowledge of a useless corpse of a Sith Lord. There was much to be thankful for, as in either case they both would have found it much sooner and claimed it for their masters. In Ruhan's hands, however... it was all his. There was no obligation for him to report it back to the Circle, and he'd all the time in the galaxy to study the halls and their lost secrets. No Jedi nor Sith to stop him, no traps or guardians to impede him, no apprentice to covet his discovery and betray him.

At the end of the hallway were a massive pair of stone doors, the icon of Alter carved into their surfaces. No handle was built onto their frames, no console to trigger access through them, yet they were designed to swing outward; all factors to prevent those not skilled in the Force from gaining entry, with no consideration spared towards the consequences of a student of the dark side getting past them. With a scoff, Ruhan gestured to the doors- a low rumble and scraping of stone filled the halls as the heavy door swung open, revealing the chamber within.

It was lit well, a hidden power source fueling light fixtures lined throughout the space; a chamber as deep as it was high, a massive, cylindrical tomb with some five or six levels, separated by sturdy transparisteel floors and ceilings; a stairwell built into the wall allowed access into higher and lower levels filled with caskets embedded in the walls, names or identifiers carved into small plaques in the same dead script and language as before. A few caskets were built onto the floors themselves, their more ornate carvings of marble indication that those interred were of higher status or greater reverence.

It didn't matter, not to Ruhan. He stared up into the chamber, spotting a single casket high above on the top floor. A grin cracked along his features and he strode to the stairwell with a quickened pace, certain that the artifact he'd been looking for was now only moments from his grasp. The nerves in his hands tingled, his grip on his torch loosening until it fell from his trembling grasp, clattering to the floor. He continued on without sparing it a thought, now taking the steps two at a time until he finally reached the apex. No caskets were built into this level's walls; the only resting place was the one built in the middle of the floor. The moment he reached it he stopped short, staring at the coffin as joy surged through him.

"I've found it," he whispered.

His avarice greatly outweighed his patience and caution, flinging the heavy stone lid with the wave of his hand. The din that echoed in the chamber was deafening, yet not so much that it deterred him from rushing forward to claim his prize, leaning over the coffin and gazing down at the desiccated remains of a long dead non-human sage, covered in a thin white linen sheet. Years of looting bodies both fresh and ancient came in to play as he upended the light corpse, the bones rattling and breaking, scattering in different directions as the hit the floor.

Something was wrong.

He felt around in the coffin, a frown creasing his brow as he pressed his hand into the cushion at the bottom. There was nothing there. Anger and panic started to build within as he grabbed the cushion and tore it out, desperate to find the artifact he'd coveted for so long. Hoping to find some false bottom or concealed partition he groped around the sides, peered around the edge of the sarcophagus; finally using the Force to flip the tremendous coffin on its side in a last-ditch effort to find a hidden compartment.

"It's... it's not here," he growled, stepping back.

This was not right. He looked back at the corpse, into the grinning skull of the sage. The holocrons had told him the amplifying band was interred with the body of the First Master, the sage that formed the Launrian Mystics of the planet. Here, then, was where the First Master must have rested, venerated by his followers and set to the top of the tomb itself to honor him. That his artifact should be missing was inconceivable- nobody else could have known of this place, much less know of the artifact itself.

"No, this... this can't be! It was supposed to be here! Where is it!?" he snarled, striding forward and kicking the skull; it sailed into the air and shattered against the wall. "Where is the band!?"

"In the last place scum like you would have looked," a voice behind him said.

He whipped around, hand snatching up the basket-kilt lightsaber at his side; the bluish-lighting of the tomb was mixed with the crimson of his blade, illuminated the figure who had been standing behind him. She had drawn at the same moment, a cyan-blue blade held out defensively and casting light on her; a tan-pelted Trianii female with amber eyes, cloaked in dark gray robes, and standing in the way of the only stairwell leading to the lower levels.

Ruhan glared at her, alarmed at the unexpected visitor- a face he did not recognize as either Jedi or Circle. "You followed me?"

"I was here ahead of you," she replied, circling him cautiously. "You didn't bother checking this temple to see if it was abandoned, you went right for your target. Even if I hadn't been paying attention, that racket you just made would have clued me in." She glanced at the discarded body. "You really should have better respect for the dead."

"You're not an Acolyte," he hissed, holding his lightsaber high. "Who are you?"

"You don't need to know that," the Trianii growled, stepping forward with the point of her blade tipped toward him. "All you need to know is that you don't belong here. I'm gonna give you one chance to turn off the weapon and leave- because if you don't, we're going to have a problem."

If she'd anything left to say, he was intent on not hearing it. With a snarl, he charged in and swept his weapon at her. With a twist she brought her weapon up and blocked, stepping into his range and bringing her elbow up to his jaw. What would have been a sharp jolt to his chin turned to a throbbing graze as he leaned back and away from the blow, blunting the counter and staggering back.

"That was your one chance," the feline told him, her eyes narrowed and locked on the dark figure before her. "Best you make peace with the Force."

"I'll not be stopped by some delicate whelp from a backwater species! You wish to lie with these corpses, then so be it!" Ruhan snarled, closing the distance.

She met him halfway, springing into action at the same moment with natural, agile footwork. Their blades hummed dangerously as they swept through the air, a sharp crack of energy bursting between them as they met; his blade had crashed down on her overhead block. She buckled slightly beneath the blow, but stood firm. With a grunt of exertion she pushed his blade back, retaliating. Her cyan blade aimed for his hip; a twist of his arm and the blow glanced away expertly. With a lift of his arm he swept upwards, aiming to cleave her in two; it took a gasp and a sidestep for her to narrowly avoid his attack, leaving her on the back foot.

The advantage was his, and he pressed it with wide, heavy swings that caused her to backpedal away. Her natural agility and flexibility prevented him from landing a hit, but nor could she enter his effective range to counter or capitalize on his openings. He swung high and she ducked, darting in to jab at his legs; but before she could step in fully his blade was on the backswing, forcing her to lean back. The crimson blade gouged into the stone walls around them, hot lines cutting into the embedded sarcophagi as their duel took them down the stairs.

His lack of footwork kept her alive, his unsteady and slow descent keeping him rooted each time he swung. Here she found an opening, sidestepping and knocking him off balance with a counter-blow. He backswung again, but by then she'd grabbed the railing and flipped over it, a firm grip on the bar and her feet against the outer steps as she dueled one-handed. He slashed again and she sidestepped with a spin, his blade easily cleaving through the steel barrier, as she gripped the railing and cut a shallow mark into the shoulder of his robes. He slashed horizontally along the barrier, anticipating her flipping over it again and aiming to bisect her in mid-jump; instead, she rolled beneath it with all the grace of an expert acrobat, kicking out with a foot. Her boot thumped against his chest and he grunted, free hand going to the railing as he sought to rebalance; before he could steady himself her blade found its mark with a shallow, vertical slash that sliced his other shoulder and glanced against his thigh.

It was not enough to be painful, not on the level of all the grueling training and injuries he'd been subjected to; but as he staggered back he was filled with mix of rage and shame. It was only too obvious that the runt he was facing was little more than a novice who relied only on a mix of natural agility and beginner-level bladework. In every facet that mattered he was her superior: better-trained, human, and an intelligent Acolyte of the Circle of Syn. The fact that she had lasted longer than a few minutes, that he had been unable to end such a weak foe, cut at his ego far more deeply than her glancing blow had. The humiliation and anger coalesced into a toxic energy and invigorated him, lashing out in a tremendous blow that battered the feline's defenses and knocked her off balance. She barely defended the followup strike, saved only by her losing balance and falling over the railing.

With natural grace the Trianii landed between a pair of coffins and staggered back, and in that moment Ruhan scrambled for the momentum, leaping off the stairwell with his blade aiming for her head. The lack of balance saved her as she defended, falling to her back as the heavy-handed blow knocked her off her feet, the last few inches of his blade sinking into the glass floor near her shoulder, leaving a glowing red hole as he drew back, He slashed again; she'd struck his blade and diverted it away, the crimson light burning a long line through the glass. Before he could attack again she kicked out and knocked him back a step, long enough for her to flip up to her feet.

It was here the duel surged in intensity, Ruhan working his blade hard and battering the smaller fighter's defenses relentlessly, intent on keeping her off balance. Dark satisfaction painted his features as what strength she possessed was not enough to match his own, forcing her to duck and dodge. No amount of swift cuts or shallow jabs could slow his bladework, his experience outmatching her agility as he started to anticipate the flow of her movements, cutting her counter-attacks off before she could execute them. An attempt to jab at his legs was intercepted by his weapon; a flick upwards and it slashed barely half an inch from her nose, causing her to backpedal- in fear, he noticed with vicious glee.

Now on the back foot, she was not prepared for his next move. With rage still coursing through him he rushed at her with a vicious slash, the feline barely catching the blade with her own as blue and red formed a cross; yet he did not stop the saber-lock, driving her backwards with his stronger frame and footwork, forcing the younger fighter to scramble back- until there was no room left, slamming her against the stone. Her arms trembled as the Force surged through his body and doubled his strength, threatening to drive her own blade through her, and it was here the Trianii stared back up at him with a look of defiance, holding against his superior strength with little more than sheer grit. There was fear there. But the drive to live had not been extinguished.

He would give her no time to resist- and he would make her hurt.

One hand left his saber and grabbed her wrist, wrenching the lightsaber off to the side. On reflex her paw caught his wrist in return, focused on not letting him run her through. It was the only opening he need, pulling her from the wall and stopping short, sinking his knee into her gut. The Trianii gasped and fell into a curled up position, her weapon clattering to the floor. Before she could muster a second's worth of recovery he planted his boot into her gut and sent her rolling across the floor until she slammed against another sarcophagus, leaving her coughing and desperate for oxygen.

"Pathetic," he spat, his rage now mixed with satisfaction on seeing her agony. "Of all the Jedi in the galaxy they could have sent, they chose a novice to get the job done. The Circle have killed dozens of uneducated fools; and you will be no different."

"I'm... not..." she wheezed, rolling onto her hands and knees.

"Silence," he snapped. His right hand held out like a claw, he hoisted her into the air by her neck, the Trianii gasping and choking as she was was suspended before him, pawing at her throat. "The only words you will be allowed to utter are those that tell me where the Laurnian Band is. Where have you hidden it?"

"You... fool," she hissed back through strangled breath. "It's in the First Master's coffin."

"You lie!" he roared. With the thrust of his palm she flew threw the air and slammed into the wall, eyes bulging with pain as she slid to the floor. In her weakened state she could to nothing to stop him from approaching. "Do so again and I will remove a limb from your worthless body until you tell me where you've hidden it!"

Then she did something he had not expected. She started to laugh. It was one of pain and exhaustion, but loaded with derision for the dark disciple; the look of contempt in her eyes replaced the fear they'd held only moments before. "How many... coffins did you search?" she hissed.

"I searched the only one that mattered, at the top of the chamber!" he snapped. "I care nothing for the rest, the First Master's coffin is all that matters! Now where is his artifact?!"

"The First Master was never put to rest in that coffin, you moron," she spat back. "And she wasn't male. It's always the same with your damned Sith and Imperials- too proud to consider that someone so revered would never be laid to rest above everyone else; too pig-headed to think anyone but a male could be a skilled and revered leader." She staggered back up to her feet, holding her midsection with a glare of raw contempt. "She was the foundation of the Launrian Mystics, supporting her students and her people. And so she was buried beneath those who followed her example," she explained, pointed to the transparent floor beneath them. "At the bottom."

Ruhan took a step back, stunned both by her forthright answer and his inability to process how he could have overlooked something so obvious. "You knew this...?" he started to say, eyes wide.

"I did my research," she told him, giving him a smirk. "I even know a shortcut to get to the coffin more quickly."

Ruhan's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking abo--"

He never finished. The snap-hiss of a lightsaber activating behind him drew his attention, the Sith Acolyte spinning in place to intercept an attack. His eyes instead fell on the Trianii's lightsaber, which had flipped with its emitter angled downward, its blue-hued blade penetrating the floor and exiting through the other side. He spun back to face the Trianii, but by then she'd already made her move, her paw outstretched and sending a burst of Force energy into his chest and knocking him back several paces.

She rushed him, weaponless, and in his moment of surprise he swung for her head; but she'd dipped low before it reached her. Another slash to match her lowered form; but she'd leapt into the air in a clean, impressive flip. He had just enough time to watch her twist into the air; a blur of blue light in one paw as her weapon returned to her, while her other paw was held out and aimed below right at him with a look of deep focus. In the next moment he felt the tremendous, crushing pulse of Force power blasting from her palms, bearing down on him as if a starfighter had landed directly on his head and shoulders. Bowed to the floor with his head down, he could see the First Master's coffin only a single floor below, in the center- in the next moment, the view was obscured by the spider-webbed crack pattern creeping along the glass floor, a tremendous crack echoing in the room.

In the next moment the floor gave way and shattered, and Ruhan screamed.

There was no rope to grab this time.

To a Trianii like Jinory, it was far too loud.

The din of massive glass shards smashing into the floor below was beyond deafening, painful to her feline ears such that Jinory had collapsed to the other side of the floor covering her head with one arm. It had been an idea formed in desperation, a small price to pay for the effect it had in dispatching her foe, yet excessive enough that a small part of her regretted it, hoping it would not permanently damage her hearing.

She waiting until the trembling stopped and her ears ceased to ring, before risking a glance around. Where there had once been a pane of thick, durable glass acting as a platform, there was now an empty expanse between her and the stairwell, a square shaped by the durasteel beams that held the platform in place. The coffins that had laid to either side had tumbled into the wreckage below, dimly lit by the chamber's wall fixtures.

A breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding poured out of her chest, tension leaving her body; though the same could not be said for the soreness in her neck and body, hampering her movement as she struggled to get to her feet. With a second glance down into the pit she found herself thankful she'd had enough presence of mind to summon her lightsaber back before the floor fell through, feeling the carnage below would have made it difficult for her to retrieve assuming it would have remained intact in the face of such destruction. Still, she found herself smiling somewhat as she spotted much of the glass and one of the coffins having landed on the First Master's final resting place, knowing it would take time to get it sorted out.

Still...

"Best to be sure," she sighed to herself, steeling her nerves and keeping her weapon in hand. She could not see the acolyte's body below, even with her exceptional natural vision and ability to see in dark areas. With a moment of hesitation holding her back a few brief seconds, she crept across the side of the floor, along the durasteel beams and towards the still-intact stairwell leading down into the bottom floor. Her thumb triggered the energy blade, holding it out to illuminate the immediate area as she reached the bottom, frowning at the thousands of shards of glass covering the room. With a gentle sweep of her paw the shards slid across the floor, clearing a pathway between her and the shattered remains of the coffins.

A part of her winced, having wanted to leave as much of the chamber intact out of respect for both the dead and a long-gone Force tradition. It was only the words of her master telling her that she use any means necessary to prevent the artifact from falling into Imperial or Sith hands that eased her spirit. She hoped that the spirits of the Launrian Mystics would not hold it against her, to ensure someone so selfish, arrogant, and evil could not use a potentially dangerous artifact for dark uses.

As she neared the central coffin she stopped, a tug in her consciousness that warned her to remain alert. Silence lingered in the air as she reached out with her senses, mindful of any change in the air, any sign of movement.

It broke with a slight shift in a single shard of glass. It might as well have been the crash of thunder.

She wrenched herself up and back, sailing into the air as a nearly invisible pane of glass sailed through the air at neck level, slicing through the space her neck had occupied only a moment earlier and shattering into the wall behind her. The sound of it smashing into hundreds of pieces was drowned out by the dark acolyte's raging war cry as he charged out of the shadows and activated his blade.

Their blades met and locked, and in the ensuing flash of light Jinory could see the acolyte's face, mere inches from here own, his features slashed up violently with shards of glass still embedded in his flesh. A larger piece was still lodged in his left eye, oozing with blood; his right eyes sported a broken blood vessel, painting the iris red and matching the color of his snarling face and crimson-painted teeth as her screamed at her.

"YOU WILL DIE FOR THIS, JEDI!"

But the fear she'd had minutes earlier was gone.

"What you do next will decide your fate- not mine."

She broke the saber-lock with a growl, driving him back and devoting her focus to beating back her foe, weaving her blade in a series of rapid strikes that he could only barely keep up with. Her pattern alternated between striking at his shoulders, sweeping at his legs, jabbing at his face- anything to keep him on the back foot, his boots crunching over the shards as he backed away. Using every ounce of training and study she had undergone she continued her assault, her tight focus keeping her a step ahead of his attempts to counter-attack; every assault he attempted to mount, she unbalanced with a parry, keeping him off-balance.

Yet despite his injuries he remained upright, leaving drops of blade in his retreat, the look in his remaining eye a mingling of fear and anger, and with a roar he attempted to shift the tide with an overhead slash. It took little more than stepping to his left for her to disappear entirely, for while she had no ability to conceal herself through the Force, his useless left eye could no longer see her. She struck hard and fast, her blue blade crashing against his crimson. He had sensed the attack coming- but she found her mark nevertheless, beating his defense by a mere fraction of a moment and cutting into his upper arm deeply, eliciting a howl of rage and pain from him.

Even in the middle of pain and fury, he still fought, thrashing around like a wild animal and causing Jinory to back up half a step to avoid his mindless rampage. A second too slow, he lashed out and caught her blade in a weakened grip, ripping it out of her paws as it sailed to the other side of the room. There was a brief pause as both fighters realized what had happened, Jinory staring at the acolyte as he reoriented himself and rushed in to strike her down.

And staggered.

He'd lost too much blood, had suffered too much pain, had spent too much endurance in their duel. In that moment, the combination of damage came crashing down all at once, marked by a heavy, lethargic bootfall that Jinory backed away from as he sank to one knee, gasping for air and glaring up at the Trianii. For a few moments he looked ready to curse her, to scream at her again, to express his rage in the only avenue he believed himself to have left- only to realize that he was deprived of this too, unable to speak.

She stared back down at him as she summoned her energy and felt for the environment around her. The environment, still dimly lit by the wall fixtures, almost seemed to morph into space, with thousands of glittering pinpoints of starlight orbiting around them for a few seconds. The rage in the acolyte's face disappeared, replaced with awe and wonder as he watched her raise every minute shard of glass from the floor and suspended it around them. His features only turned to fear once he realized what she was about to do.

With a snarl of exertion she brought the shards down on one point, the starlight streaking towards the knelt acolyte. In under a second he was screaming again, as an innumerable amount of glass tore through him, slashing across his face, splitting through his clothes, and turning the floor beneath him red. The second ended- and he fell forward, kept upright on his hands and knees.

His breathing was ragged, the floor trickling with his blood, but as Jinory approached she could hear the punctuation cough of a quiet blood-choked laugh, his body shaking from the tremble each laugh brought. Where he found the strength to raise his head, she did not know, but as she summoned her lightsaber back into her paw she knew it didn't matter.

"You... held back," he rasped.

"I did," she agreed solemnly. "My way is not perfect, but I will not succumb to the darkness you wallow in."

"Typical," he spat. "I expected mercy from one as weak as you."

"And I will grant you mercy," she told him, activating her weapon again. He jerked up, his still-intact right eye gazing at her weapon. "By easing your suffering."

"You..." He shivered. "But I am weaponless. Defenseless. This is not... Jedi don't strike down the defeated."

Jinory sighed and shook her head. "You're right, they don't," she agreed, as she raised her weapon point-foward. "But then... I'm not a Jedi."

The scream he uttered lasted only half a second, cut short as she drove her blade into his remaining eye and through his skull, a brief shudder trembling through the nerves of his body before it followed suit and died. She drew it out as he slumped forward, swiping her blade down and removing his head in a skilled execution. His eyeless visage rolled away a few feet, his body thumping to the floor.

Seconds passed before she deactivated her blade with a sigh, regarding her defeated foe with a mix of pity and dissatisfaction.

"I did warn you."

She'd had the foresight to search the forgotten temple for medical supplies ahead of time, and had been pleased to find that its healing wing was still intact, along with still-viable salves and tomes written in basic script that instructed its students on the skill of healing through the Force. Though her tutelage under her master had given her a deeper understanding of her potential, she had been eager to find other avenues of education. The bulk of the three days she'd spent in the ruins had been focused on preparing for the Dark Acolyte to arrive, having been informed of his plans by her own master- it was the perfect opportunity for her to try her hand at healing through the Force, something she was now putting to use as she sat on the steps to the temple's entrance, looking up into the beautiful starry sky.

Despite wanting to know how he'd come across the information, it was enough to her that he had been right. It was yet another victory against the Sith-aspiring Circle of Syn, though as she rubbed the salve into her sore shoulder she had to admit that this one had been hard-fought. He'd been stronger and faster than most humans, clearly the work of augmentation through Sith alchemy. Nevertheless, she found it in her to smile as she got back up to her feet, taking a moment to survey the peaceful valley before her. The one reason that had brought a servant of darkness to the planet was now buried under a ton of stone and glass. And as the sound of a ship echoing through the valley reached her ears, it was better knowing she had the means to seal the temple under even more stone.

The howling twin ion engines grew louder and she drew a pair of lightsabers, the other belonging to her fallen enemy; both the blue and crimson blades were as good a signal as one could hope for, the ship in the distance zeroing in on her position and slowing to a halt. She grinned as she looked up at the TIE Reaper, a ship she'd managed to customize and modify extensively through the installation of several new parts. The hatch to the cockpit popped open and she flicked off her blade- leaving the other one active as she tossed it to the steps. With a running start she leapt from the stairs and high into the air, performing a graceful flip before landing perfectly on the cockpit and sliding into the vessel.

The moment she got into her seat, a series of beeps sounded behind her.

"Heh, yeah I'm doing just fine, Waxer," she replied, glancing behind her in the custom-tooled slot where her astromech was snuggled up in, keeping the ship running. "I'm sorry I had you waiting for so long, I couldn't risk that Sith scumbag finding the ship and blowing our ticket out of here."

Another series of beeps, this time more inquisitive.

"Yeah, he's dead. He put up a hell of a fight, but... there was a lot at stake this time. I couldn't let him win or walk," she sighed, deactivating the droid's autopilot and taking manual control of the ship. "And now we need to seal this temple- it's too much to hope for that the Imperial Remnant won't know about this place. If they do, they'll have to waste time digging into the cliff and give us time to do something about it."

She stared out into the temple entrance, spotting the still-lit lightsaber on the steps. To say she did not have reservations would be untrue, knowing there was much she could learn if she could spend just another week in the ruins; but knowing she would risk getting caught if the Empire did show up, and that her master needed her back, she took in a breath and steeled herself, nodding resolutely.

"Let's blow it, Waxer."

She wrenched the yoke back, the ship swinging to the right as she guided it away from the temple, keeping an eye on her instruments to gauge the distance. As soon as she was a kilometer away she swung the ship back around, peering into the darkness through the Force and spotting the still-lit lightsaber from so far away. With a deep breath she focused, bringing her cannons up a fraction away from the center and squeezing the triggers.

Two blazing-hot streaks of green spat from her ship, slamming into the center of the left pillar and shattering it, the ceiling above it crumbling. A second blast caught the right pillar at the base, toppling it over and cracking it in two- one half perfectly sealed the inner hall away along with the tumbling ceiling that caved in over it, while the other rolled and smashed what was left of the ancient stairway, the remains tumbling into the forest below.

Another beep rang out and Jinory nodded, spotting the gaps in the barrier on either side and at the top of the rubble. Knowing full well that a tenacious climber could get in she peeled her ship away. "You're right, not good enough. All we need is one more pass."

She banked hard and yanked back the throttle, the thrill of flying painting a smile on her muzzle as the pressure of acceleration pushed her into the seat. It took only a few seconds for her to whip back around and spot the still-glowing spots that her cannons had torched, giving her a good idea of where to place her final shots. With the reticle angled between them and slightly higher, she blasted the ceiling of the structure dead on with a barrage of lethal energy that trailed up part of the cliff face, tons of stone cracking under the weight and caving in the entrance completely.

She let out the breath and peeled away, leaving behind the fiery, smoking remains of the Launrian Mystics' temple as she ascended into the sky.

"Alright... with the rate we're going on this hyperdrive, it'll take a couple of hours to get back home," she sighed, keying in a new readout on her onboard computer. "The route should be clear, thankfully. Nobody uses there hyperspace lanes anymore."

Waxer beeped behind her, the droid's response appearing on the screen she'd just used. "If nobody uses them, they could be valuable to pirates and smugglers. Are you sure it's safe?" he asked.

"Relax, Wax," she laughed. "We're on the fringe of Imperial-occupied space, and if there's one thing they do right, it's cracking down on pirates." She paused, considering her words for a moment. "Not that they do it well, of course, but it's not a huge risk. Besides, I'll take smugglers and pirates over an Imperial checkpoint. We can get through both just fine, but all I gotta do is screw with the heads using the Force and we're golden."

"If you say so," Waxer replied with what were clearly skeptical tones. "And you're not worried about the Circle of Syn? They might be furious enough to notice you, for preventing them from getting their hands on that artifact."

She shook her head. "Master's report was that it was just one guy looking for the Band of the First Master, so it wasn't even a big Circle project. And besides, we're not even a big part of that fight, good buddy. I haven't heard any of the latest news, but Syrra's name keeps popping up here and there, along with her crew. Rumor was that there was something big going on in the Wild Space region with both of them."

"Weren't they banned from there?"

"Only on certain Trianii-controlled planets, and even then, not all of them," she reasoned. "The point is, if there's any Trianii that the Circle of Syn should be worried about, it's her. Me, I'm just... working behind the scenes, taking out the threats in the shadows." She let out a soft laugh, followed by a softer comment. "She probably doesn't even know I'm still around."

There were a few minutes of awkward silence after that, leaving her staring aimlessly into the swirling blue tunnel of hyperspace and wondering how her friend was doing. She jerked a little at that, a pang of sadness filling her chest at the thought of her being a 'friend' after her first and only interaction with the older feline Jedi; an interaction that involved a one-sided duel, and Jinory lashing out at Syrra while she was unarmed. While Syrra might have had the situation well in hand, in no real danger from the inexperienced Force-user, she could not help but feel ashamed for what she'd done.

Another round of beeping brought her out of her thoughts. "Hey. Are you alright?"

She sighed. "Just thinking."

"My only experience with this other Trianii was shooting a trio of smoke canisters in her direction so you could escape, but I've read up on some of the things she has done, as well- and one thing that does keep popping up is that she was, at that time, the only Trianii that was part of the Jedi Order. She probably remembers you because you can do a lot of the things she does."

"Heh, not even close," she chuckled. "She's way past me."

"The point is that until she met you, she was probably the only Trianii she knew who could do what she could. Being able to meet you would probably have stuck with her. Besides, you sent her an e-mail, right?"

At that, Jinory cleared her throat, feeling another round of shame. "I mean... I had wanted to. I just... I spent a few weeks trying to figure out what the heck I was going to say and I..." She sighed. "I couldn't think of anything. I wanted to apologize, and I wanted to tell her I hope we could see each other again. I mean... not to put too heavy a burden on you, Waxer, but you're the only friend I have left."

"I appreciate that, Jinory, you know I do. It doesn't have to be that way, though. You should reach out when you can. Something small to start, and then let that grow from there. You told me that you helped save her life- she's not going to forget that."

She managed a smile. "I guess so. Ever since Cidgillo..." A slight ache in her heart made her pause as she recalled her first mentor, the inspiration for her trying to learn the ways of the Force. "I miss him. I miss that connection we had."

"I do, too. He was my first master as well, after all. But I don't think he'd want either of us to isolate ourselves from people we care about."

She did not answer immediately, letting her droid's words sink in. She'd spent plenty of time studying with her master that she'd spared little time, if any, building anything beyond her skill in the Force. There was no home for her to go to, no friends or family to wish her well before she left; or welcome her back when she returned. Her throat tightened, realizing now how close she'd come to being murdered in the Launrian Temple- a fact that hurt more knowing that if she had, nobody might miss her. Search for her, yes- but actually miss her...?

"Do you think," she asked slowly, "that the Jedi Order would be okay with me visiting her?"

"Without a doubt- though it'd be better to ask if your Master would allow it."

"I'm halfway tempted to drop out of hyperspace and send him a request, after bringing him up to speed- after all the work we've been doing, he wouldn't mind us taking a brief break, right? Especially if it's to learn more about the Force from a friend," she reasoned.

Before she could continue, the ship suddenly shuddered, a violent tremor that would have knocked the Trianii out of her seat had she not been strapped in. A chirp of fright rang out as she grabbed the flight yoke and braced her feet against the floor, watching as the blue tunnel of hyperspace fade out and the pseudomotion of streaking stars receded into their natural pinpoints; in a matter of seconds, her ship had phased out of the dimension and back into realspace, the hyperdrive in the back of the ship groaning and straining as it tried to re-engage. With a curse, Jinory grabbed a nearby handle and yanked it back- the noise ceased all at once.

"How close?!" she shouted, eyes scanning around for whatever planetoid, star, or celestial anomaly had cut their trip through hyperspace short; all the while her heart hammering in her chest despite trying to master her fear.

"I'm reading... nothing," Waxer booped back.

The Trianii blinked, checking their position on the local scanners, then peering out into the vastness of space. All that lay before her was a wide expanse of stars and vacuum, a distant nebula of blue and green some light years away.

But nothing else.

No celestial bodies in the area. No planets or stars to exert a mass gravity shadow powerful enough to bring her out of hyperspace- the only thing that could have done it.

A feeling of fear crept up her back. "Waxer, we need to get out of here."

"We can't- we're locked down by a mass gravity shadow."

"There's no planets around!" she responded quickly, the tingle of panic starting to set in. "There's nothing around here that could be keeping us locked down, not unless--"

But she stopped short, eyes widening as a sharp knife of fear stabbed into her back. In the next moment, she had her answer in the form of a beeping red diode.

"We're being locked," Waxer beeped frantically. "Energy signatures behind us, two capital ships and a dozen fighters."

Jinory swore, tearing the flight yoke to the left just as her ship jolted from a barrage of cannon fire exploding against her shields, her heart dropping as she saw a pair of standard TIE fighters streak past her. A sharp yank back allowed her to swing upwards, avoiding the next barrage as another four fighters screamed by, giving her enough space to pull the throttle and shoot past the second half of the squadron.

"No no no, dammit no!" she shouted, her eyes falling on the pair of capital ships ahead, far too close for comfort. The Interdictor did not have to do a thing but float placidly in the vacuum, it's gravity wells preventing the Trianii from making a jump into hyperspace; but it was the second vessel that caused Jinory to go cold- a heavily-modified Imperial Star Destroyer, with several extra gun emplacements and a reinforced pair of shield generators.

A ship she'd seen before- shortly before losing Cidgilo.

The scene was shocking enough that she found herself unable to react as the ion batteries on its port-side wedge zeroed in on her ship, landing a barrage of blue bolts against her vessel and sapping the shields in a matter of seconds. The second volley completely disabled her ship, the engines cutting out and the stabilizers going inert as she began to sail through the void.

It wasn't until Waxer beeped behind her that she reacted, a tear running down her fear-stricken face.

"They found us."