Across the Stars VII: The Planet of Ghosts

“We’re coming out of lightspeed, nerd. Get your nose out of that book and come get strapped in.”

                “Oop! I’m coming, I’m coming.”

                Nathan flipped the weathered notebook closed and climbed out of the bunk, scrambling towards the harness of the co-pilot’s seat. In a bigger ship, it wouldn’t be necessary, but the Lucky Star was so small (and poorly made) that being untethered while entering or exiting hyperspace was suicide. And Nathan, naturally, cared very much about safety.
                The ship came hurtling to a stop, and the marble-sized planet before them looked like it suddenly grew a thousand-fold, to a massive, intimidating sphere that dominated their vision.
                Ossus was a deep orange color, and flashes of blue trailed across the dark forms of cloud systems within its atmosphere.

                “Looks like some serious storm activity,” Nathan guessed, pulling up what little geological and environmental data he could. “I’m not seeing much, it could be the storm, or maybe your sensors are just too old to be useful.”

                “Oy, watch what you say, the Star can be sensitive.”

                A blip appeared on one of Nathan’s screens. “Hold up, I’m getting something. Some kind of technology, I think it’s a sensor beacon. Weird. Whoever’s down there isn’t afraid to be found.”

                “Humph. Maybe they just figure no one would bother comin’ to a place like this. Those lightning storms don’t inspire much confidence. Where the heff have you dragged me now, nerd?”

                “Hey, Luke said there was someone who could help us, here. We got to at least give it a shot. It’s our one lead on the holocrons, Pyerce, and Mayla.”

                “Y’know, I been thinkin’ about that. What’s wrong with you, huh?”

                Nathan raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

                “I mean…” Ozz chewed on the words. “You had a stable job, place to live…family?”

                Nathan shook his head.

                “Ah, well, you mighta been better off for it. My point is, you had everything, but you dropped it to come find some chick ya barely knew! And she’s an Imp spy? What’s wrong with you?”

                This spoke aloud a thought that had bothered Nathan for the last week. This life on the move was way more exciting than his old job as a reactor Safety Inspector, but he also had to wonder if he was insane to have left in the first place. What was he really doing out here? Trying to stop the Empire? He barely knew anything about that. Trying to find Mayla? What if she didn’t want to see him, what if—worse—she was lying, and he was playing into the Empire’s hand?
                While all this filled his thoughts, he shook his head and closed down.

                “Dunno. Let me know if you figure it out.” Ready to change the subject, he directed Ozz’s attention to the scanner. “Whoever’s broadcasting from that beacon, they’re in the northern hemisphere, see this?”

                “Yeah, yeah. I’m going the long way around, no chance I’m getting us anywhere near those storms. Krif, this place looks like a wasteland.”

                It took them the better part of an hour to circumnavigate the storm systems, which were fast-moving and hundreds of miles across. They alone would be enough reason for Ossus to stay uninhabited. Which just made the presence of people an even bigger mystery.
                The moment they entered the atmosphere, Nathan felt it: a pull within the planet, something like gravity, but altogether different. There was something strange about Ossus. Something powerful, he thought, watching the far-off storms burn away at the land below.

                They saw the outpost from above, a small collection of tents, sensor arrays, and a shield generator, all concealed around a rocky outcropping. Ozz reached out on the comm to see if anyone would pick up.

                “Uh, hello! Anybody down there? We…come in peace.”

                Someone did.

                “Who is this?” a woman’s voice replied.

                “Uh, Captain Ozzamandes Sabaran, of the Lucky Star. Requestin’ permission to land, ma’am.”

                “You’re not who we were expecting. Stupid beacon…What the hakat are you doing on Ossus, Lucky Star?”

                Nathan leaned in toward the microphone. “We’re looking for a Duros named Abay. A friend of his sent us, a man named Luke.”

                Ozz looked at him sharply, and whispered, “What’d I tell you about trusting everybody!”

                Nathan motioned for him to shush, and they waited in tense silence for a reply.

                “…Abay says to let you land. If you try anything, you’re dead.”

                That was as good a welcome as any.
                The shield allowed them through, and Ozz brought the ship to a rough landing on a pad made of loose durasteel plates laid over the orange sand. Even for the Star, it was uncomfortable bumpy.
                They left the ship to surprisingly cold air for a desert planet, which explained the snow that capped the higher rock formations. A woman—the woman from the comms—approached them. She was dressed in full armor, carried a blaster pistol, and had a loose cloak hanging over her shoulder. She looked dangerous, and Nathan and Ozz kept up their guard.

                “I’m Van Konn, this is an outpost of the Ordu Ascriptis, the Keepers of the Force.”

                “Thanks for letting us in,” Nathan said politely.

                “The Scriptist—Abay—says I should be nice to you, but you make one wrong move...”

                Ozz grimaced. “We’ll be sure not to do that, then! Appreciate the warnin’, very kind.”

                Another woman walked up—a Rodian in green robes who had the air of a scientist.
               
                Van greeted her. “Eefo! This is Eefo, she’s the Scriptist’s Assistant.”

                “Say that three times fast,” Ozz whispered to Nathan, who chuckled.

                Van looked at them suspiciously. “I’ve got better things to do, so she’ll lead you the rest of the way. Touch anything, and I’m coming back for you.”

                “Thank you, Van. Welcome, both of you,” Eefo said, her voice calm and controlled, a pleasant contrast to the brusque Van Konn.

                “Thanks for having us,” Nathan said, again, politely.

                “Come with me, please,” she said, and turned to lead them through the camp.
                The outpost was large, the product of years spent establishing a base camp for research and exploration. Nathan guessed there were about 50 Keepers in all. Two freighters sat side-by-side, covered by heavy tarps to protect against the storms. The camp was crowned by a pole, some sort of tall device with controls at ground level.
                Curious, Nathan took the risk of asking about it.
                “It’s a Conductor, something I designed soon after we arrived on Ossus. It protects us from the storms, drains them of their power. Occasionally we need more energy for our experiments than our generators are able to muster. On those days, we can draw the storms towards us to harvest for their potential.”

                “Sounds…dangerous,” Ozz grunted.

                Nathan grinned. “Genius.”

                Keepers milled around, doing maintenance or talking to one another, or gawking at the two strange arrivals. Nathan saw a few scholarly-looking individuals inside of tents, hard at work writing in large tomes.
                Eefo led them to an opening in the rocks that had been adapted to house a work tent. It was obviously the domain of an archeologist: fragments of colorful stone, artifacts, and old books were stacked, sorted, and hanging from a net overhead. A tower shelf housed numerous glowing blue records, with a single record glowing red.
                A Duros stood at the center, wearing a flowing blue robe over a green boiler suit. He seemed old, bent, and slightly crazed. An eccentric, Nathan guessed. Who else would come to Ossus?

                He reacted to their approach with alarm, turning suddenly and crying, “Another spirit? Begone!”

                Eefo bowed slightly to the researcher. Nathan sensed that she was carefully hiding embarrassment at his behavior.
                “The guests, Scriptist.”

                “Ah, yes! Ah, yes…silly of me. Tell me, Eefo, do you sense anything? Does anything pull at your feelings?”

                She hesitated, then said, “Nothing that gives me pause.”

                “So it is also for me,” he agreed, with a great deal of nodding. He gestured for Nathan and Ozz to draw closer. “Come in, come in, tell me your names!”

                Ozz gave Nathan a wary look. Nathan gave him a reassuring wave, and pushed ahead.
                “I’m Nathan, and this is Ozz. I’m sorry, I’m a little confused…what is this place?”

                “You do not know! Eh! Young…unknowledgeable…” the Scriptist muttered. “We are Keepers, those who, eh, seek to pierce the veil of untruth that blinds so many. We’ve come to Ossus to study what remains of the Sith-Dead world. Ancient truths and insights, unseen.”

                Nathan had never heard of Keepers before, but then, he had never hunted holocrons before. “So, you know Luke?”

                “The Skywalker boy!” he squawked. “Yes, yes. The last of them, yes. He studied with us briefly, as our goals, for a time, slid into alignment. But he doubted the spirits, and how they spoke to me. Very rude of him. What do you want from me?”

                Nathan was taken aback by the Scriptist’s abrupt demeanor, but he was starting to catch on.

                “Luke sent us. An Imperial Remnant is searching for holocrons, and we’re trying to get to them first.”

                “Ah! Hmm. Hmm…no Holocrons on Ossus! Not as of yet, I should say. Still many depths to plumb, many truths to uncover…The unmapped crypts sound their siren song, their lyrics full of the secrets concealed…” muttered the Scriptist.

                Nathan and Ozz looked at each other. Eefo looked on, worried, from the edge.

                The Scriptist returned to the present. “I can do you no good. The spirits…they toy with my research, obstruct learning! I need…need…help.”

                “You have lots of help, Abay,” Eefo interjected. “Er, Scriptist.”

                “Ah, but I am concerned for your welfare, Eefo. I do not know these two, and as such, so far, for theirs I am not!”

                “Oh, gee, great…” Ozz grunted, raising a wispy eyebrow.

                “See, I am hounded by a saboteur of mischievous intent. Not sinister, as no act of violence has been performed. But my machines cease to work, my materials go missing. In such small quantities and degrees that they think I will not notice, but these are not coincidences. Whether physical or spiritual, this saboteur must be caught!”

                Eefo crossed her arms. “I still think it might be the Sorcerer, returned.”

                “I do not agree, Eefo! I do not agree in the slightest. We vanquished that threat long ago, this is something entirely less impressive, but no less confounding. I would like you two,” he said to Nathan and Ozz. “To go and find the source of this mystery. This mystery, yes.”

                Nathan frowned. “And uh, why is it again that you can’t send one of your…knights?”

                “They are trained and skilled, and this task requires neither of those things! I would rather risk your lives than theirs. This is the simple truth. If you go, if you succeed, I will tell you whatever might aid your efforts.”

                Nathan thought about the ridiculous request. At least the Scriptist was being honest with them, if not a little too honest. Was he willing to risk his life for this cause?

                Finally, he nodded. “I’ll do it. Ozz, you don’t have to come.”

                “Nah, nah,” Ozz sighed. “I’ll help ya out.”

                “This is satisfactory,” said the Scriptist. “Be on your way! I have much to attend to.”

                Eefo led them away from the tent, and stopped them once they were out of earshot. She rounded on them both, her face a complicated mix of emotions.
                “Listen to me. If you want to risk getting yourselves killed for whatever it is you’re after, be my guest. But you should know…” her expression changed to concern, and her tone softened. “Abay is a master, and the wisest of us all, but…he isn’t what he used to be. He has spent many cycles on Ossus, communing with its ghosts and hidden knowledge. It has changed him. If you want to leave, you’re free to go. You’re not beholden to anything he says.”

                Nathan considered this, as did Ozz, but what other choice did they have? They glanced at each other to make sure they were on the same page. Nathan turned back to Eefo.
                “Thank you for telling us, but…it doesn’t change our minds. Your…Scriptist, is that what you call him? Your Scriptist is our last lead.”
               
                “And the kid doesn’t give up easy.” Ozz threw up his hands. “Great, we’re workin’ for a crazy guy.”
               
                “Watch your tone, Iakaru,” Eefo said sharply.

                She stalked off, giving them a strange look before she disappeared amongst the tents.

                “Wonderful,” Ozz grunted. “Wanna wander out into the cold desert and get fried by a storm with me?”
               
                Nathan stood looking towards the camp, his face contorted with thought as he considered what he knew. A possibility was brightening in the corner of his mind.

                “We may not have to leave the camp at all.”

                “What? Didn’t you hear—“

                “Come on, follow me!”

                Nathan Booke was not new to sniffing out tomfoolery and sabotage. He had been a Safety Inspector, after all. In fact, as Ozz knew very well, the young man had proven extremely talented at the part of his job that involved tracking down wrong-doing and exposing those responsible. He had become something of a Detective in his time at the reactor on Targonn, and an investigative mind had been a strength he displayed since he was a child in the orphanage.
                It did not take him long to put together a plan. He roamed the outpost, interviewing several of the Keepers about any suspicious activity. The ones he questioned were adamant no one else had entered the camp. That pointed to one of their own, but they were quick to defend their brothers and sisters against any accusation. Nonetheless, he followed snippets of conversation, pieces of truth behind offended words, and small comments let slip here and there.
                Something tugged at the back of his mind, an instinctive thought that seemed pulled forward by every conversation he had. Ozz could only listen, dumbfounded, as Nathan told him about his theory, explained his evidence.

                “Well then,” the Iakaru said. “Let’s go get her.”

                They entered the tent of Nathan’s primary suspect to find its occupant busily fumbling with her databanks. She came to an abrupt halt, slammed a cabinet closed, and stared at them.

                “Can I help you?” Eefo asked, her voice struggling to maintain its calm, steady tempo.
               
                “It’s you, isn’t it?” Nathan wondered. “You’re tampering with Abay’s work.”

                Eefo looked stunned, speechless, and didn’t reply for a long moment. Finally, she sniffed in derision. “Insane.”

                “And not only that, you’re a spy, aren’t you?”

                “Yeah!” Ozz added. “Workin’ for old Pyerce.”

                She glared at them, rising from her chair. “You’re both insane. How dare you accuse me—“

                “Aww, give it a rest,” Ozz scoffed. “We know about your buddies on Garel, Targonn, Yavin VI…We know you got a disintegration thingy shoved up in your teeth, we knows Pyerce wants information. Information you’re in a pretty nice spot to find out.”

                Looking around quickly, she dropped her voice to a frantic whisper. “Lower your voices! I do not work for Pyerce, understand?”

                Ozz and Nathan looked at one another in triumph.

                “I have not transmitted in months,” Eefo went on. “I am done with him and his remnant.”

                “Oh yeah? Came to your senses about the Empire, then?” Nathan asked.

                “Ha! Though their methods need dire reform, the Empire is still the galaxy’s best hope. But the work here…” she became jittery, nervous. “No one should know about these things. Not Pyerce, not the Scriptist…not myself, not you.”

                “What are you talking about?”

                “I will say no more. Leave me be.”

                Ozz crossed his arms. “No can do, lady. We came to this rock to learn what Pyerce is after and get it before he can do any damage. You’re gonna tell us what you know. I got credits riding on this.”

                 “I will tell you nothing.”

                “You sure about that?” Ozz grinned toothily.

                “If you’re thinking of blackmail, none of the Keepers will believe you. We are kin, I have their trust.”

                Nathan frowned at her. “You spy—sorry, spied—on them for the Empire. You think they’d feel the same way about you if they knew that?”

                Eefo was, by now, stewing with rage. “You do not know what you speak of.”

                “Ha, even if they do trust you, they’re not the only thing you gotta worry about. Maybe you guys don’t get news out here, but Pyerce tried a big attack and failed. The bounty for any of his spies is enough to get some attention. Now, we had a lead, but if we let out word, we could make it a race to see who gets you first. And I bet old man Pyerce's boys would be curious too."

Nathan was uncomfortable with this tactic. He frowned at his companion, but said nothing.

The spy's face paled in the diffused tent light. She hung her head. "I see. It appears you have leverage. But I warn you, this knowledge you seek ought to be forbidden.”

                Her conviction troubled Nathan. He scratched his chin. “I don’t get it. What can possibly have you so spooked?”
               
                "You've met the Scriptist? Once, he was as sharp as you or I. Now he is addled and distant. Do you have any idea what it is they study here? Have you felt this planet's power?"

                Nathan had, distinctly. The very ground was seeped in it. Centuries of raw strength imbuing the soil and the stone. He did his best to keep a stoic expression, to not look perturbed.

                Eefo went on. “Do you know what sorts of things are buried in those crypts? Horrible things! Books about artifacts that release darkness and plagues, that make people lose their minds. Do you know what these "jedi" and "sith" were? Armies of magic sorcerers, thousands strong, trading off rule of the galaxy every few centuries, oppressing people like you and me!"

                "This isn’t really relevant,” Nathan interjected. “…But just for the sake of argument...how is that any different than your Empire?"

                She turned bitterly away. "I'm done with all that. I have a new mission, to keep any of these horrors from being found and disrupting the galaxy."

                "Very noble. I wish you’d get that we’re trying to help, too. What is Pyerce looking for?" he asked again.

                "Holocrons, you said it yourself. I know nothing more."

                Nathan's eyes narrowed. "...you're lying."

                Ozz grimaced. "I'd watch out for him...kid can spot a coverup a mile away."

                Eefo glared at them both, but her resolve finally failed.

                "So be it. You seek calamity, but if what you say is true, what choice do I have?" She leaned forward and steepled her long fingers, waiting a moment to make sure no one would overhear. "I have not transmitted, but I still receive my orders. Pyerce seeks an object called Balaam's Heart. It is said to be a source of immortality, and fear of death seems to have invaded the Moff's mind as of late."

                Nathan raised an eyebrow, recalling Pyerce's recent defeats. "I can't imagine why."

                "Yes, unfortunately for you, I've not seen a scrap of information about it."

                "Why not?” Ozz said skeptically. “Sounds like it would be pretty famous."

                "Ossus was a stronghold of those who follow the light—the Jedi. The heart is not an object of the Jedi, but of the dark side of the force. Seeking it is foolishness."

                Nathan shook his head. Trying to get anywhere with this was like teaching a Bantha to read. "If all this is true, we can’t let an Imperial get their hands on something that might make them undying. There’s got to be some texts or records about dark side subjects. Know your enemy, right? In fact, I think there probably are. I think you probably know where, and you've kept it a secret from the other Keepers. How am I doing?"

                Eefo ground his teeth. "...Perturbingly well. I will not tell you where they are. This is for your own good."

                A sly grin broke across Ozz's face. "No, that's okay. You're gonna show us."

                "Excuse me? I'll do no such thing!"

                "Oh yeah? Then we let your comrades in on the secret. Think your little warnings would stop them?"

                Nathan looked aside to Ozz. An unpleasant feeling was sitting in his chest. This blackmail made him feel strange.

                Eefo blanched. "...The Scriptists know no limits in their quest for knowledge."

                "Yeah,” Nathan said firmly. “Neither does the Empire. Which one is worse?"

                Someone entered the tent without warning, causing Eefo to leap out of her green skin. It was Van Konn, the outpost's chief defender. She glanced at Nathan and Ozz, frowning.

                "Eefo, apologies for the interruption-- we've got an Imperial cruiser picked up in orbit."

                Eefo turned to face her. "Another one? Is the beacon turned off? Our camouflage powered-up?"

                Ozz looked between Eefo and the new arrival, shooting Eefo a significant look and mouthing, 'friends of yours?'

                If he wanted to, he could spill the beans right now.

                "Already taken care of, they should move on soon," Van assured her. "Just wanted to make sure you knew."

                "Thank you," Eefo said, and Van bowed out.

                Ozz continued to look smug in the silence that followed. Eefo understood his meaning. She composed herself, glaring at him while Nathan stood by.

                "Say nothing," she finally growled. "I will take you to the ruins."

                The speeder flew along the bright dunes of Ossus, dipping between dark rock formations and dodging occasional lightning.

"Can’t believe I'm saying this, but...it's beautiful, isn't it?" Nathan shouted over the whoosh of air and engine.

"Settle down, nerd boy!" Ozz hollered back. Because it was a two-seat speeder, he was strapped to Nathan and sitting on his lap, his short legs dangling off the back of the vehicle. "Yeesh, this is humiliating."

They reached their destination and hopped off the speeder to stretch their legs. Nathan rubbed his own, which had gone squarely numb from Ozz's weight.

"Few less Nerf Burgers in the future, huh?" he snarked.

Ozz shot him a look. "Ohhh, you really going there? Beanpole?"

Nathan waved him away and wandered to an overlook. Dark clouds shadowed the vibrant orange flatlands.

"It's very...dramatic," Nathan observed.

"Yes, it would be," Eefo nodded. "The planet did not always look like this. According to records and scrolls from other worlds, Ossus used to be fertile and green."

Nathan frowned. "What changed, the storms?"

"No, no, the storms are a side effect of whatever destroyed the planet. The short answer, I believe, is war.”

                She was setting up a pole, about 2 meters long, outside the entrance.

                “One of your conductors…miniaturized?” Nathan noted.

                “Woah, woah!” Ozz cried. “You trying to bring down a storm on us?”

                Eefo turned to Ozz calmly. “The charge is negative, it will only serve to redirect the lightning should a storm arrive. The charge would have to be positive to draw one to us. Come along, I'd like to be away from this place soon."
                They strode past enormous statues of hooded figures to delve into the dark entrances of the temple. The light from outside only reached so far. Each of them activated a hololamp, and they continued on. Eefo and Nathan talked quietly as they walked.
               
                “Archeology is my passion,” Eefo sighed. “It pains me to disgrace the profession by covering up knowledge. Despite this, I feel that protecting the galaxy is more important.”

                “I thought you’d put a higher premium on knowledge.”

                “Knowing for the sake of knowing is not always wise, or good. Knowledge is powerful, human. As with all things, consumption should be moderated.”

                Ozz was feeling a little less enthusiastic about things now that they were walking into the dark. Old stone wrapped around them, stairs that hadn’t been walked in centuries, a temple of life, now dead. The old chassis of an analysis droid lay slumped against the wall, its circular eyes staring as they passed by.

                “…Creepy place, huh?” Ozz said idly, trying to sound casual.

                “You wanted to come here, did you not?” Eefo said bitterly. “Be careful what you wish for.”

The darkness of the temple was all-encompassing. Their hololamps felt like comically weak attempts to fight back, as dim and small as they were. The huge, empty halls seemed to call out to them as they passed. More than once, Nathan thought he’d heard someone.

                “What was that?” he’d asked Ozz, who stared at him with concern.

                “Nothing, kid. Just like last time. Get a grip, would ya?”

                Something glinted in Ozz’s light. He peered at it, trying to get a closer look.
               
                Eefo, their guide, (and current victim of blackmail) led from the front.
                “Come,” she said. “The deep archives are this way. If there are any records related to Balaam’s Heart, we will find them there.” Then she added, more bitterly, “We can only hope this excursion does not doom the known galaxy.”

                Nathan frowned over at her. “Or maybe it’ll keep it safe. If we don’t find the Heart, Pyerce might. It’s worth the risk.”

                “Woah, woah, woah!” Ozz exclaimed, and his excited cry echoed in the tunnel. He hurried over to what he’d found—a pile of artifacts, gleaming beneath the dust and sand. “These babies look valuable!”

                Eefo and Nathan stood in the entrance of another hall, pausing to look back at him. Eefo couldn’t hide her disgust with his priorities.

                “Artifacts for processing, not what you seek.”

                “Yeah, not what we came here for,” Nathan said. “Come on, Ozz. Sooner we get out of here, the better.”

                Of course, Nathan should never have said that, because that’s the exact kind of thing that leads to ironic catastrophe. And so it did.
                The rumbling began quietly, but was deafening before they had a chance to react. The walls were trying to shake apart. The ground bucked underneath them. The tunnel was filled with the cacophony of shouting and the crashing of rock as they all dodged rubble dropping from overhead and dived for cover. What felt like forever was over in just a few seconds.
                Nathan pushed himself off the ground and looked frantically for his friend.

                “Ozz, Ozz!”

                “Nerd?” came the weak reply, through a layer of fallen rock.

                “Ozz!” Nathan shouted again, trying to pull away rubble. His efforts were in vain.

                “I’m alright, kid! Just…in a different room. You got our bounty?”

                Nathan felt a mixture of relief and annoyance surge through him, and he took several deep breaths. Eefo was getting to her feet nearby.

                “You okay?” he asked. She replied with a thumbs up.

                “Yeah, she’s okay,” he told Ozz. “Hey, we’re gonna make it out of this. Listen, try and go back the way we came, or find another path out. We’ll all join back up at the entrance, got it?”

                “Sure, sure. Me, worried? About the dark? Nah. See ya in a bit, no problem.”

                Nathan took a moment to rest after the stress of the cave-in. “He’ll be fine,” he told himself.

                “Perhaps he will,” Eefo replied dryly. “Forgive me for my lack of concern.”

    “Okay, Ozzie, okay. You’re gonna be okay,” Ozz whispered, casting his hololamp around the rubble to find a good path out. The way they’d come in was blocked, so he chose the next best doorway and started trudging along. “No worries, no worries. Think happy thoughts. You’ll get paid! Oh—“ he turned back and—at least something was going right—a few of the gleaming artifacts were strewn across the floor.
                “Ooh-hoo-hoo-hoo!” Ozz hooted in glee, scooping up a few golden discs to stuff into his jacket. “Come to Ozzie! Now we just gotta find a way outta this pit, and Papa Ozzie can find a nice fence to hock to you to!”
                He was glad Nathan wasn’t here to see him talk to treasure.
                Now weighed down with future fortunes, Ozz trudged ahead into the dark tunnels and empty halls of the temple, all by his lonesome. He hummed to himself to ward off any fears. He really needed to start carrying a blaster. Nothing like a blaster to make you feel safe.
               
                “Your pockets are heavy, thief.”

                Ozz spun around, looking for the source of the voice. “Whosaidthat!” he cried, brandishing one of the discs.

                “A denizen of this sacred place,” said the voice from nowhere.

                “Oh…oh great, now I’m really going crazy. Amazing. Just ignore it, Ozzie, keep walkin’…”

                “Ignoring a thing does not make it go away. Your name is Ozzie?”

                “What? No, it’s…Ozzamandes. Hey, I’m not talkin’ to you. You’re just a voice in my head. Guy might look crazy talkin’ to himself like that.”

                “I am not a manifestation of insanity, but of the force.”

                “Ha, the force! Good one, brain.”

                Suddenly, a creature appeared before him, a woman who seemed both there and not there at the same time, who shone with a ghostly blue glow. Ozz froze in place and stared at her, stunned.

                She spoke with power and grace, and her face was severe. “A faith is a necessity for a creature, Ozzamandes. Woe to them who believes nothing. Woe to you, for I sense this void...within you.”

                Shocked, Ozz’s grip went limp. A disc fell to the floor with a ‘clang’.

                “Follow me,” Eefo said. “I will find us a way out of the tunnels.”

                Nathan stopped in his tracks. “Wait a second. I want to get out too, but not before we find what we came for.”

                Eefo’s face twitched. “Don’t you want to find your friend?”

                “Yeah, but he’ll be fine, and ticked off at me if we leave this place with nothing to show for it. Can we still get to the archives after the cave-in?”

                Eefo had been caught trying to wiggle out of showing him the archives, and she looked accordingly hateful.

                “…Yes,” she spat. “Come, do not lose the way.”

                As they walked, Nathan questioned her.

                “The Scriptist’s madness, or whatever…he mentioned spirits. That’s just you, right? You’re gaslighting your mentor?”

                “The spirits are real. The sabotage is mine, but the drain on his mind…the spirits are real. Dark things.”

                This was not exactly the answer Nathan had wanted to hear while spelunking in a pitch-black tunnel.
                “Oh, I see,” he said, shining his light behind him and hurrying to catch up.

                “So what was your life like around here, huh? See any good holos?”

                “As a Jedi scholar, I forbade myself from material pleasures, if that is what you ask.”

                “Sheesh, aren’t you a bucket of fun.”

                Ozz now continued his journey through the tunnels with the ghost woman at his side.

                "You scoff. There is moral grandeur in this, no? The renunciation, the sacrifice this station requires? The self-exile, the remembrance of mortality, the committing of one's spirit to mystery and thought rather than toil?"

                "Hah, I'd love to see you tell that to my pops. He loved toil."

                "You use the past-tense. Your father is one with the force?"

                "He's dead, if that's what you're askin'. We didn't see eye-to-eye, so wouldn't make much of a difference if he wersen't."

                “But now you have another family? One of your own?”

                “Hah! A family, nah. Just this kid mooching off my ship.”

                “You have a child?”

                Ozz shook his head, muttering to himself before replying. “No, no. Human’s name is Nathan, we’ve been working together for a few weeks. Can’t stand the guy, honestly. Always going on about safety and stuff. Takes himself too seriously. Got me fired once! For something I didn’t do, I’ll have you know.”
               
                The woman smiled softly. “I sense care in your voice.”

                “Pah! You’re hearin’ things too, then.”

                “Love finds us in unlikely places. When it crosses our path, we are often slow to embrace it. We deny ourselves the comforts of familial care in order to protect our vulnerable, fragile egos.”

                Ozz raised an eyebrow up at her and grimaced. “Geez, you get personal, lady. Bet you were a weirdo as a kid.”

                They were stopped by sounds up ahead, strange howls and whispers that seemed to slither by in a tunnel before them. The woman flew in front of Ozz, her expression stern.

                “What the keff was that!” Ozz cried, covering his head and looking around for danger.

                “Dark spirits. My counterparts. The other side.”

                “Well geez, terrible roommates! You just all hang out in the temple together? Just a big spirit party, good and bad?”

                “I do not wish it to be this way. Their presence is a desecration.”

                “Okay, okay…why don’t you evict ‘em then? You’re all glowly, I bet you could get rid of ‘em.”

                “It’s not a question of my power, but of my purpose. I pledged myself in life to study and knowledge, it is not my place to raise hands against evil, but to equip those who do. I put them out of mind, and avoid their distraction.”

                “Hm, couldn’t you make, like, an exception?”

                She rounded on him, her expression fierce, her eyes wide.

                “Does my life sound like one of exceptions, Ozzamandes?”

                Ozz shrunk back from the frightful display. “Well, no. No, that’s a good point. But…”

                The look on her pale face told him not to continue, but he was never good at listening to warnings.

                “Well, you don’t really have a life, anymore. You’re—sorry if I’m the first one to tell you this—but you’re dead, lady.”

                “I know this. Don’t insult my intellect.”

                “Well then, you did good! You held to your pledges! They were pledges for life, right?”

                She looked thoughtful, her brow knit. She said nothing.

                “Besides, weren’t you the one that told me…ignoring something doesn’t make it go away?”

The deep archives were once locked behind doors that required power to open, powers neither Nathan nor Eefo had. But time and war wears away all things, this time to Nathan’s benefit. The doors were long since destroyed, and their access unblocked.
                It was a narrow hall. Rows and rows of old books, many of them destroyed, lined the shelves.

                Eefo gestured forward. “Feast away, you fool.”

                Nathan shot her a look. “Kind of unnecessary, but…thank you for bringing me here. Where do I start?”

                “Balaam’s Heart? I recommend ‘B’.”

                “Oh, it works like that? Huh, I expected something weirder,” he said, and he stepped forward to scan the massive stacks.

                Eefo looked on the shelves—the sheer amount of terrible, dangerous knowledge—and at the young man now searching amongst the tomes. Fear clutched at her heart. Her mind went to the blaster under her robes.

                “You speak sense. Most unexpected,” the ghostly woman said.

                “Oh, nice,” Ozz grunted. “I’ll try not to be offended about how you said that.”

                “My apologies. Perhaps, as a spirit, my purpose is something different than what I was bound to in life. Perhaps I must evolve, as my being has evolved. Perhaps I must oppose the dark things here, and purify this temple. Thank you, Ozzamandes, for speaking with me. It has been most enlightening.”

                “Sure, sure, any time. Now, I gotta get outta here, any chance…?”

                “We have been following that path for some time. I have been leading you to your friends while we talked. They are just ahead.”

                Ozz blinked in surprise. “No kidding? You’re alright, lady.”

                “Ozzamandes,” she said, and her voice became serious and heartfelt. “Do not deny your care for your friend. You would rob yourself of greater riches than those you carry in your coat.”

                Ozz avoided her gaze, nodding vaguely. “Oh, uh, sure, sure. Yeah, thanks for the advice.”

                “And Ozzamandes,” she said again.

                “What?”

                “Please leave behind the things you’ve pilfered from my temple, if you please.”

                “Oh,” Ozz blushed, and he casually removed the golden discs from his pockets and dumped them on the floor as gently as he could. “Sure thing, of course.”

                She smiled. “Thank you. Farewell, I hope we meet again.”

                “Me too, ‘cept I got no plans to come back to this joint. But uh, I’ll see ya when I see ya.”

                A fondly amused expression was the last thing on her face before she faded away, and he was left in the dark. A door stood in front of him.

                Ozz smiled proudly. “’Most enlightening’…Old Ozzie, who woulda thought!”

                Ozz entered the deep archives. The first thing he saw was Eefo, hand on her blaster, and an unaware Nathan. Something in his chest swelled up, and his eyebrows furrowed. She was gonna blast his partner? Not on her life.

                “Hey, what’s the big idea?” he shouted, and Eefo spun in alarm. She hastily drew her blaster. “Nate, look out!”

                Ozz threw himself into the Rodian researcher, knocking both of them to the floor. The blaster went off harmlessly, a bright red bolt striking an ancient tome and completing its transition to nothing more than a pile of ashes.

                Nathan ducked and swiveled. He stared at the prone Eefo. A few seconds and he would’ve been toast.

                “Woah, woah! Thanks Ozz!” He suddenly grasped that Ozz was here, and grinned widely. “Ozz! You made it!”

                “Yeah, yeah,” Ozz said, dusting himself off. Eefo looked trapped. “Had some help. I’ll tell ya about it later. Geez, once a spy, always a spy, huh!”
                Eefo glared at him defiantly. “You’ll bring ruin to the galaxy!” she said, her voice trembling.

                She stood on shaking legs, and occasionally her eyes darted towards the shelves, wide with fear. She was like an animal, and Nathan felt, most of all, pity. He understood what was driving her.

                Nathan grabbed Ozz's arm and pulled him aside. He whispered, "Hey, I'm trying to honor what you said on Yavin, I'm telling you before I do something crazy."

                Ozz looked at him warily. "...Kid, whatever you're thinking, you better not risk our profit, here. We're in a golden spot with this!"

                "No, I'm not okay with how we've done this. Catching spies is one thing, but blackmailing, threatening deserters to get what we want?" He shook his head firmly. "That's not how I want us to do things."

                Ozz looked between his eyes, searching for a way to convince him otherwise. There was no chance. He had no choice but to back down.

                "That's...another payout lost, kid. I hope you know what you're doing: we need credits! Finding your girl is gonna take credits, you understand?"

                "I know, we'll figure it out! I'm sure we can pick up a side job or something, but...I want to let Eefo go free. She's not even a spy anymore."

                Ozz threw up his hands. "Have it your way. But you're the least lucrative partner I've ever had."

                "This pays off in other ways, Ozz.” He turned back to the Rodian, approaching her cautiously.

                “Hey, I’m not mad that you wanted to shoot me, alright? It’s…well, it’s not okay, Eefo. But I get it.” He stepped forward, and she flinched. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he told her. “We’re going to let you go free. You don’t have to worry about us leaking anything, or telling anyone where you are, okay?”

                Eefo raised a brow skeptically. She waited for him to continue.

                “Now, I know you think what we’re doing is wrong. But…I wish you could trust me. My intentions are nothing but good, I swear. You’re right that this is dangerous stuff. The Empire is looking for it, and I can’t leave whether they find it or not up to chance. Please, you don’t have to agree, but…don’t shoot me?”

                She met his gaze, and gradually seemed to calm. Her eyebrow still twinged in frustration, but she sighed, and the fight had left her.
                “Yes. Alright.”

                “Great,” Nathan nodded. “Ozz, help me find this book!”

                Ozz was already by the stacks, and held up an old pile of slates bound together with rope. “Was it ‘Balaam’?”

                “Yeah, why—“

                “Here ya go.”
                He passed the slates to Nathan. Sure enough, Balaam’s name was on them.

                “No way,” Nathan said, staring. “Ozz, thank you!”

                “No problem,” he shrugged, unaware of his partners efforts to do what he’d just done in one glance.

                “We’ve got what we needed. Let’s go see sunlight again, huh?”

                Eefo led them back through the tunnels until they found the staircase they’d originally descended. They were cheered to see the light flooding through the open archways of the temple doors. Cold wind filled their ears as they crossed the old atrium floor and ventured out into the open air.
                They gasped in horror when they saw the sky.
                An Imperial Light Cruiser lay in the upper atmosphere. A small, white shape was gliding down towards them; a shuttle.

                “Aw, hell,” Ozz grunted, slumping hopelessly.

                “No!” Eefo screamed. “No! They’re coming for the temple!”

                Nathan blanched, and held Balaam’s slates tightly under his arm. “We’ve got to get out of here. We can’t fight that thing.”
               
                “The temple is bad enough, but we must not lead them to the Keepers! The unencrypted archives, the research, they cannot be allowed to have it!”

                His jaw firmly set, Nathan made a decision. “Ride back to the outpost, I’ll hold them here.”

                “Kid,” Ozz said weakly. “What the keff are you gonna do?”

                A plan was formulating in his mind. Nathan approached the small conductor Eefo had planted in the ground when they’d arrived.
               
                “Eefo, show me how to work this thing. Then you both go, get to safety!”

                “Hey, kid,” Ozz said, his tone full of worry in a way Nathan had never heard.

                “Yeah?”

                “We’re gonna come back for you. Just hold out, okay? Trust in the…the force, or whatever. You better be alive when I get here.”

                “I’ll do my best,” Nathan shrugged. “Chances aren’t great.”

                A grin broke on Ozz’s face. “Oy, bring back the optimism. You’re downright depressing, you know that?”
 

                “I’ll bring back the optimism when we make some money, how about that.”

                “Oh, so never.”

                “Well, never say never!”

                “Ha! There it is,” Ozz grinned. He patted Nathan on the side. “Take care, kid. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

                “Geez, what’s gotten into you?”

                “Oh, shut up. I dunno, had some time to think while I was in those tunnels. Anyway, enough dwaddling! Let’s get this show on the road!”

                “Yeah, I’ll see you in a bit, Ozz.”

                A few minutes later, Ozz and Eefo sped back towards camp, Balaam’s slates in hand.
                Alone at the entrance to the temple, Nathan waited for the shuttle to touch down.

Nathan stood alone on the steps of the ruined Jedi Temple, the dunes of Ossus cascading before him. High above he could make out the dim shape of the Imperial Light Cruiser hanging in orbit. Even closer were the pristine white angles of the Shuttle soaring down to the planet, coming for them.

    His mind raced. Why was the Empire here? Were they followed? Was the Empire tracking the Lucky Star? Had they led them right to a temple full of dangerous Jedi and Sith secrets?

    Worst of all was the thought that Mayla was somehow involved. That he had been stupid to trust her, that she’d been playing him all along.

    There wasn’t time to think about that now. It didn’t matter. What mattered was dealing with the situation.

    Ozz and Eefo were safely away to the Searcher’s camouflaged outpost on the speeder bike. They couldn’t risk the Empire following them and finding the outpost, there was too much to lose there. That’s why Nathan had stayed behind: he was going to be the distraction. How very brave of him, he thought wryly. How was he going to find Mayla as a corpse?

    He had a blaster pistol and one of Eefo’s storm conductors. It wasn’t one of his better ideas, but he could make this work.

    Step one: draw their attention. It was crucial that he make them forget about the speeder bike. The process for this step was a little inelegant, but sometimes the obvious choice was the best one.

    He flicked off the safety on Eefo’s blaster pistol. He couldn’t help but laugh. This was going to look absurd.

    He raised the pistol, aimed at the shuttle, and pulled the trigger. He did this several more times, firing enough shots at the starship that it might draw its pilot’s attention. It was impossible to do any damage--especially from a few hundred feet away--but their sensors would notice, and he had to hope they’d choose the temple and the source of the blaster fire as a more interesting landing zone than wherever the speeder bike was headed.

    It worked. He watched the shuttle nervously, but soon he could tell it had worked. Based on their flight path, they were coming in an arc towards him. He punched the air in triumph, but he didn’t have time to rest on his laurels. It was time for step two, and he had always been disciplined when it came to processes. That’s probably a part of why he had so few friends.

    Eefo showed him how to operate her Conductor before she’d left. The Keepers used the charged chromium poles to attract Ossus’ giant storms and drain them for energy. Energy wouldn’t do him much good; all he needed was the storm.

    He flicked the switch to reverse the charge on the pole, and left it planted in the ground. Nothing seemed to happen, and he looked at the sky anxiously. He guessed it took a few minutes.

    The shuttle alighted a few hundred feet away, its wide wings closing gracefully with its dorsal fin, its ramp lowering with a hiss. Down walked an Imperial officer clad in gray, accompanied by a tall figure in black robes, and a squad of remnant stormtroopers.

    It must’ve been the sight of the stormtroopers that did it. Suddenly it felt real. Those people could shoot and kill him. Nathan felt every fiber of his body push him to run and hide. But he had to wait for the storm.

    The sky began to darken as the group of Imperials crossed the dunes toward the temple, creating a dramatic shadow over the flatlands. Lighting arced in the sky above, occasionally flashing down and striking the conductor, forcing Nathan to cover his eyes to avoid being blinded. The stormtroopers were close enough that he could make out the vents on their helmets. The storm was here, he had to move now.

    He raised the blaster once more, and fired a bolt at the conductor.

With a dramatic burst of energy, it exploded, knocking him off his feet and into the temple atrium. He scrambled to his feet to find some sort of cover. He located the dead droid chassis on the staircase and clambered behind it, like a rabbit running to its warren.

    Outside, things had become dangerous. Lighting, previously contained and directed toward the conductor, now had no conductor on which to focus. Bolts now struck the ground freely and often, crystalizing the orange sand. A flash of light incinerated a stormtrooper and created a rush of activity among the group, who dashed towards the temple doors for cover.

    Lt. Syfot brushed himself off once indoors, surveying his squad for casualties. The Vu’othh stood by, disturbingly serene as always.

    Syfot turned to scan the empty atrium. There was obviously someone here. Someone who would presently be killed.

    “Come out, swine! Pathetic,” he sneered. “Troopers, find them!”

    The stormtroopers, emblazoned with the Pyerce colors, fanned out into the ruins, E-11s raised.

    Two approached the staircase where Nathan was hiding. Any second now and he’d be done for.

    He turned to stare at the darkness of the tunnels. He had only just emerged from that pitch-black pit, no part of him wanted to go back down there. But he knew the way, at least better than the Imperials. It was his only chance to survive.

    So he allowed himself to be pushed further inside the temple. He scrambled down the stairs, ignored the shout from the stormtroopers above, jumped to dodge the blaster bolts that flashed past, and ran at a sprint through one of the lower doorways. He would disappear into the dark.

    Nathan ran, and turned, and ran, and turned, until he was sure he had taken a convoluted enough path that the stormtroopers wouldn’t easily be able to follow. It was silent now, in the horrible way that caves sometimes are, where the pressure of the rock above seems to bear down and muffle everything in a quiet dark.

    The blaster, he realized, had fallen when the exploding conductor knocked him down. He had nothing to fight with.

    He felt terribly alone.

    He really didn’t want to die in the dark.

    Thoughts of Mayla helped brighten his mood, and her smile appeared in his mind’s eye. But those thoughts were quickly soured by the possibility that she was behind the Imperials’ appearance. Instead, he remembered the only people he knew he trusted, or at least closest to it. He wished Ozz were with him; he’d be just as terrified, of course, but at least they could banter back-and-forth about the hellishness of the situation. At least he’d have a friend.

    “You must be Nathan.”

    His heart flew out of his chest and he stumbled to the ground. A soft blue glow touched the dusty ground under his fingers, and illuminated his arms as he raised them in defense.

“Woah!” he shouted. “What--”

    A woman stood there, though what she was doing was closer to floating. She was ageless and calm, and smiled at him softly in a way that the caretakers at the orphanage had, when he looked particularly foolish and in need of rescue.

    “I met your friend, Ozzamandes. We enjoyed a lovely conversation.”

    Nathan starred in the way one does when encountered with a ghost, when they had previously believed ghosts to be entirely fictional. Despite his shock, he was able to mutter a skeptic, “Doesn’t sound like the Ozz I know.”

    He climbed to his feet with some effort, suddenly afraid this glowing...whatever-it-was would give him away. And that he was going crazy.

    The woman became suddenly urgent.

    “Come with me, young one. They search for you. I can show you a way out.”

    “Yes,” Nathan burst. “Please, please. Thank you!”

    She smiled, and gestured for him to follow.

    They hurried through the tunnels, away from the distant sounds of stormtrooper chatter and the barks of the officer.

    “Dark spirits haunted these tunnels, until today. Your friend convinced me to banish them.”

    Nathan wasn’t sure what to do with this information. “Wow,” is what he settled for.

    “Come, it isn’t far now--” she turned suddenly, alarm flashing across her noble face. “What--? Such...evil,” she scowled. “That presence, do you sense it? But I banished--”

    In a horrible dying of the light, as though her glow suddenly sickened and withered, the woman disappeared. Nathan was left alone, once more.

    “Hello?” he called in a unnerved whisper. “W-Where did you go?”

    He gasped and jumped. A facemask peered at him from the half-dark, a long-fingered hand outstretched.

    “What did you do to her?” Nathan demanded, backing slowly away from this new figure.

    The creature stepped slowly toward him, its black robes swishing against the rock-strewn ground.

    “The spirit returned to the Force. Do not be afraid,” slithered a voice.

    Nathan felt himself go still, bound by unseen, unfelt hands. He grunted and struggled, but the ghastly mask appeared in his vision, craning down at him. The pallid fingers pressed against his face.

    “Come, speak to Absalom.”

    Nathan came to with labored, frantic breaths, his body numb. He slumped against the stairs in the atrium, the crumbled edge digging into his back. Thunder rolled overhead, shaking the ground.

    The creature from the tunnels stood watching him, but it was the Imperial officer who now filled his sight. He grinned like a madman, the sort of grin only moments away from killing you.

    “What...the--” Nathan managed. Lt. Syfot had no patience for blubbering.

    “You, boy. I came here for something, and--congratulations--you are in the fortunate position of giving it to me.” He cast a glance to the Vu’othh, saying quietly, “If my...consultant, is to be believed.” He then straightened and said, once again in his loudest, most in-charge tone of voice, “You seem to know these ruins well. I suspect your presence here indicates familiarity with the subject of my search. Yes, yes...I’d wager good money on that. You little leech.”

    “Uh,” Nathan said, raising an eyebrow. “ I’m sorry, but...what the krif are you going on about?”  

    Syfot turned and whacked him painfully across the face.

    “Shut your mouth, until I order otherwise.”

    Hanging his head and wincing in pain, Nathan considered that maybe mouthing off hadn’t been the right move. One of his teeth felt loose.

    “Don’t worry, I’ll have plenty of time for you to talk soon. Garel, Targonn, Yavin VI...you have been busy, haven’t you?”

    No way, Nathan thought. He couldn’t know that was them.

    “Yavin is, naturally, the odd one out. But to lose two spies in the same sector, in the same week? These, I am sure, were you. And from there you picked up the trail, found your way to the temples of Yavin’s moon, and of course, to here. How do I know this? Because I am brilliant, you little fool. Hit him!”

    Before Nathan could react, a stormtrooper stepped forward and slammed the butt of his blaster carbine into his gut, knocking the air out of him. He doubled over, his side aching.

    “And if you started on Targonn, well, I wonder which of our agents it was you encountered first…the girl?”

    Nathan felt any number of sudden, powerful emotions. He did his best to keep all of them away from his face. He went slack, diligently avoiding Syfot’s gaze.

    Syfot apparently found this amusing. He leaned down until they were inches apart, a smile toying at the corner of his mouth. There were scars across his face, subtle ones, ones he had tried to conceal. The violence in his eyes was overwhelming up close. It was as though a wild animal were trying to play dress up as a gentleman.

    “Ahhh, the girl. Quite the beauty, but, as I understand, it’s only skin-deep. You must know her as...Mayla, perhaps? Oh, my poor boy. Did she put you up to this? Is she why you’re here?” He tisked sympathetically, and Nathan wanted so badly to hit him. “Then she is truly cruel indeed. Now, I admire a little imagination--let no one say differently--but most of our agents accomplish Moff Pyerce’s goals in more traditional ways. I’m not sure I approve. But…” his grin widened, as did his eyes. “I cannot complain about the results. A most useful tool you’ve proven to be, indeed. You’ve rooted out our weak links beautifully! Congratulations are in order.”

    Syfot started to clap, then looked around to his squad. “Come now, congratulate our young friend! Quite the hero.”

    Hesitantly, the Stormtroopers began to join in the applause. Some of them added mocking words or cheers.

    The Vu’othh just watched.

    Nathan stared at the ground defiantly, feeling utterly defeated. What if it was true? It wasn’t unlikely. Of course he’d been played. Of course this had all been for nothing.

    Finally, Syfot had had his fun. He gestured for them to stop, and like that, the room was silent but for the sound of thunder. His grin disappeared. He grabbed Nathan’s shoulder and his fingers dug in, his face so close Nathan could smell his breath.

    “Now, your chance to be truly useful. Tell me, boy, what you know. Where is Balaam’s Heart?”

    As if on queue, the sounds of starships rose over the peals of thunder to reach their ears. The stormtroopers rushed to the doorways, and raised their blasters. Syfot stared at Nathan a moment more, running his tongue over his teeth before releasing him, and turning towards his men.

    “What is this? What’s going on!”

    Nathan knew, and he managed a weak smile.

    The Keepers had arrived.

“Secure my shuttle! Go! You, contact the Rigorous for fighter support!” He turned last to the Vu’othh, whom he stared at as though wondering if it was worth it. When he finally spoke, it was painfully polite. “If it pleases you, any aid would be welcome.”

    The Vu’othh bowed its head slightly, and Syfot was glad to leave off there.

    Nathan heard the scream of TIE fighters and the sounds of battle outside. He was pulled to his feet; they were going for the shuttle.

    They left the temple for the diminished light of the storm-cloud sky, lighting striking with no delay. The Keepers, he saw, were on speeder bikes and on foot. Their freighters were not warships, and were only useful as transports. The stormtroopers had kept the Keepers at bay, engaging them where they’d taken cover behind the rocks. The lightning was a constant danger, and struck unpredictably around the dunes.

    Nathan was pulled out into the open, and he saw the open ramp of the shuttle waiting for him. Imprisonment, torture...Imperial victory.

    He heard a buzz from his left, and the stormtrooper let go of his arm. A speeder bike came hurtling towards them. Blaster bolts rang past his ears, downing one of the stormtroopers, and he felt someone grab his harness. All of a sudden he was being dragged behind the bike, the sand scraping against his backside. Someone grabbed his arms, tried to help him onboard.

    “Gotcha, kid! Not bad for a guy who’s never fished!”

    “Ozz!” Nathan grinned. He grabbed the bike as tightly as he could with both arms and legs. Eefo was driving. “Eefo! Thank you!”

As selfless and heroic as their mad dash to Nathan had been, it was bound to cost them something. That’s when the bike lost control. It was struck by blaster fire in the charge, lost one of its balance pylons, and went spinning out from under them. They all had the sense to bail, jumping and rolling roughly into the sand as the bike went smashing into the sand, bouncing, losing parts with every impact.

The battle raged around them. Syfot and the Vu'othh passed by, making their way to the shuttle when step 3 of Nathan's plan miraculously came to pass: a stray bolt of lightning came down in the exact spot where the shuttle had been landed. Superheated molecules made impact with engine fuel, resulting in a blinding flash. A spectacular blue explosion threw sparks and metal out of the left side of its hull, and the entire thing fell unceremoniously onto its side.

Syfot and his entourage stopped in their tracks, staring at what had been their plan of escape.

"No!" Syfot shouted. He turned to survey the battlefield, and that was when he spotted Nathan, Eefo, and Ozz lying a few meters away. The three climbed to their feet, and a stand-off ensued.

"Contact the Rigorous," barked the Lieutenant. "They must send everything! All our forces! Crush these insects!" He ordered, before turning to Nathan with fury in his eyes. "WHERE IS THE HEART, BOY! WHERE IS IT!" He screamed, his dignity long-forgotten.

"You'll never get it!" Nathan taunted, unable to resist the chance to rub it in. "You're a failure! You're pathetic! And you'll never get what you want. I'm going to take it from you." Nathan glanced at Ozz. "We're gonna take it from you."

Ozz had enough to worry about already. He had no axe to grind, and definitely no desire to provoke the near-rabid officer any further. "No, no, just you! You're gonna take it from him. I'll just...eh, watch."

There was a wave of noise from behind them. The Keepers made a push forward, giving the Imperials no choice but to retreat. Abay, newly restored to his former glory, led the charge.

Syfot turned to run. "I'll find you! I'll find the heart! You'll rue this day, boy! You'll wish you'd never crossed my path!"

One of his troopers pulled him into safety behind the wreckage of the shuttle, while the Keepers similarly enveloped Nathan, Ozz, and Eefo into their own battle line.

"Quite a mess!" Exclaimed Abay. "But nothing we can't handle."

Eefo looked at the Duros with barely restrained hope. "Scriptist, are you..."

"Back?" He smiled. "I certainly am." He looked at Nathan. "Did you find what you need, Son?"

"Yes! Once this fight's over, we'll go--"

Abay cut him off with a shake of the head. "No. If it concerns something worthy of the Empire's interest, you must go immedietly. Take one of our speeder's back to your ship. We'll handle these stragglers!"

Nathan struggled with that, but Ozz knew there was no time to waste. "We'll take you up on that, gramps!"

Eefo turned to them, her eyes serious. "I'm really free?"

"Yeah, I meant what I said," Nathan replied.

"Then I'm staying with my people," she said firmly, with another look at Abay as though she couldn't believe it. "I'll make things right. Thank you. Don't let the Heart fall into the wrong hands."

Nathan gave her a wry look, considering their previous conversations. "Are there right hands?"

"There are wrong hands," the Rodian replied bluntly, and she pointed at the waiting speeder. "Now go!"

They hustled away, ducked low to avoid blaster fire. Abay called out once more before they sped away.

"Take heart! Find hope! And may the Force be with you!"

Nathan sensed a funny feeling in himself, in response to those words. A sense of kinship.

"You too!" He called back, and, after checking to make sure Ozz was strapped in behind him, he gunned the speeder's accelerator. They'd get to the Lucky Star and get off this planet. They had to start translating Balaam's writings, and find the next clue, and they had to hurry, before the Empire could catch up.

There was no time to waste.

The battle raged on in Nathan and Ozz's absence. The Keepers pressed their advantage, but ultimately, they were unprepared for the sheer might of the Imperial reinforcements. They fought bravely, but TIE Fighters and the arrival of three more squads of Stormtroopers proved too much to endure.

When they had woken up that day, only a few of their most sensitive had sensed the coming tragedy. Most of them never saw it coming.

Robed warriors lay still on the orange dunes, white-clad troopers walking among them and prodding the bodies with their guns.

Only a few remained alive, including Abay and Eefo. Van Konn died in the fighting. The survivors sat defeated in a circle, some mourned aloud.

Lt. Syfot, now bandaged for a minor blaster wound, commanded the situation. The Vu'othh was at his side.

"The Duros is strong with the force," the Vu'othh told him. "He is dangerous. He must not live."

Syfot listened and considered the Scriptist with an appraising eye. Abay sat kneeling, his head bowed in solemn sorrow.

Syfot made his decision. "Which of you knows the most of things like...this temple?" He asked the circle.

Slowly, Abay looked up. "I do."

"And have you any pupils?"

 Eefo struggled to her feet, her head held high. "I have had the honor of learning all he knows!" Then the fire entered her eyes and her voice. "You sick, poor man. You lack knowledge and respect. Your life is a withered one."

Syfot sneered. "Shoot the old man."

Eefo's eyes went wide.

"No!"

A shout went up from the Keepers as the Stormtroopers took aim. They shot Abay, again, and again, until he'd fallen over in the sand, his body smoking. This only happened for a moment, for his body soon disappeared, fading away into nothing.

This disturbed Syfot, but to the eyes of those around he was only thrown off for an instant.

"Bring the Rodian!" He commanded. "The rest will pay for their defiance: you know what to do, Sergeant!"

The squad of Stormtroopers trained their blasters on the defeated Keepers. Many of the robed scholars and warriors reacted bravely. Others bargained.

Troopers dragged Eefo away to a waiting transport, as she struggled and raged.

"No! They have done nothing wrong! Leave them be! LEAVE THEM BE!"

Her cries were muffled by the ship, and the rest of the Keepers joined their fallen brethren in a hail of blasterfire.

When the Imperials were gone, and the Keepers safe at the outpost found them, rites would be performed to return their spirits to the living Force. Each one of the dead would be well mourned and dearly missed.

Already concerned with something else, like a child quickly bored by a toy, Lt. Syfot shook his head in unsettled frustration.

"The boy has our lead on the Heart. Surely he's escaped by now...blast it all to hell. What do you think, Vu'othh?"

The tall creature had watched the execution with passive interest. It now turned to the Leuitenant with a wave of deference and spoke in its persistently unaffected tone.

"Cast away your fears, Absalom," it said, voice filtered by its mask. "The child will continue the hunt as the unknowing servant of the cause. You need only go where you know he must appear."

Syfot thought about where this might be. His eyes grew wide with understanding.

"Back to Mustafar. To the house you first spoke of, yes?"

His tone turned threatening. "Unless he already has that part of the puzzle. If I do as you say, we might very well waste time and lose the trail."

"Waste not your time. Send this one, Absalom. This one submits to your will."

Syfot considered it, enjoying the idea not the least because it meant a great distance between him and this vile thing.

"Very well. Return to the Mustafar system. Wait for the boy there."

"As you desire," said the Vu'othh, and it bowed. Tall and thin as it was, even inclined it towered over the Lieutenant. Another reason he kept their conversations brief.

Syfot turned to survey the battlefield once more, his gaze idle and passive, and entirely unemotional.

That is, except for pride.

The sight of the many bodies, their robed forms at odd angles and in crumpled positions, made him smile. He so enjoyed a lack of loose ends.

"Back to the Rigorous, men!" He announced. "Time is of the essence, and I have a guest to host."