Letting Go

Rain was the first thing that came to mind on Dxun. It was always raining on Dxun, perhaps due to the fact that Dxun's lunar orbit was rather quick and seasons were nearly nonexistent. Occasionally the rain might be relieved by Dxun's so-called 'dry days' when the cycle restarted itself but even then it was wet -- just less wet.

One might have thought that perhaps the forest canopy, which covered the sky in a blanket of vegetation, might have served as some kind of natural parasol and shielded visitors from the liquid onslaught. Their hopes would soon be dashed however, the moment they stepped out of their ship and onto the waterlogged rock that was Onderon's only moon. Not only would the rain drown their dreams of a tropical vacation but also it would quickly render most machines they brought with them unusable -- promoting corrosion and rust while shorting out any circuits within a few days of exposure.

And the ragtag collection of Mandalorians, smugglers, mechanics, and who knew what else now trekking through Dxun's jungles knew that all too well.

'Frack this damned rain!' Xarga swore violently, slamming at a power pack in the Mandalorian assault rifle he held clutched between his arms. 'The power pack's corroded beyond repair - I can't shoot a damn thing with this piece of osik!'

'Guess you'll have to rely on your skill with a sword wontcha?' Mira replied, gritting her teeth at the noise the idiot was making. 'Until then, why not try a little quiet? This mission's hard enough has it is without half the moon knowing we're here.'

The Mandalorian quieted immediately, turned, and bowed his head to Mira in a mark of obedience.

'Apologies, sir,' Xarga said. He slung the useless rifle over his shoulder and brought his right hand to rest on the sword sheathed at his hip. 'I will refrain from such noise in the future.'

Mira flinched slightly when he called her 'sir.' She'd never been one for working as a team with others, her line of work called for self-reliance and a cautious distrust of others. Even worse was the fact that he saw her as his alor, his commander, a position she hardly desired although Ariadne had assigned her with that task. She didn't like taking responsibility for others, looking over their shoulders to see if they were all right. She preferred to worry solely about herself.

Not to mention that Xarga and this place together brought back all too many memories.

'You do that,' she commanded simply, shrugging off her discomfort. It wouldn't do well to let her personal feeling get in the way of the job.

'Not like he was going to hit anything anyway,' a voice muttered from behind. Mira turned around to see an olive-skinned, dark-haired man dressed in a thoroughly soaked ribbed jacket. At his side were two pistols, as well as a lightsaber -- the mark of a Jedi. The same mark that she too carried on her hip.

'You have something to say, Rand?' she growled.

The rogue pilot stepped forward, looking deeply unhappy with his current state.

'Nah, nothing,' Atton replied, shaking water off of his sleeves. 'Except that I hate this rain.'

Mira ignored him and turned back to the path ahead. It was going to be a long walk, despite the fact that she already knew a shortcut and was already leading them that way. The terrain was rough and the weather and predators had done a good job at slowing them down. They'd been out in the jungle now for nearly the entire day trying to find the Sith. She felt as though they were close -- but she wasn't sure.

Aside from the rain there was something else that often came to mind when thinking about Dxun. The wildlife. The dreary moon was renown amongst xenobiologists and zoologists for its flora and fauna, of which there was a plethora. And if it weren't for the fact that almost everything on Dxun wanted to kill you Mira herself would have found the world's astounding diversity exotic or exciting. But the moon did want to kill you -- slowly and painfully.

If you were lucky you might get killed quickly by a maalraas, who hunted with precision many a bounty hunter envied. But more likely you'd eat some poisonous fruit that would give you lethal dysentery or you'd be caught by a boma, a beast which delighted in playing with its food. Or maybe you'd be swarmed by a host of cannoks who'd tear you apart as they ate you alive.

There weren't many great ways to go on Dxun -- Mira knew that from firsthand experience.

Suddenly, Mira felt something in the air. A subtle change, as though something had fallen into place with them. She looked around, seeing if she could catch anything by sight. Nothing. She listened, relying on her ears to hear the snapping of twigs or rustling of leaves that might give an enemy away. But all she could hear was the wind in the trees and the rain falling gently around them.

'Up here!' Xarga shouted. He was the farthest head, being the one who knew the terrain of the land best. Mira turned her attention to him. He'd climbed to the top of the rise they were currently treading upwards on. He was waving his left arm forwards as he looked downwards at them and with his right he was holding a pair of macrobinoculars. 'I think I've found something!'

Mira rushed up the hill, to see what Xarga had come across. Upon reaching the summit she saw that the rise they had been climbing appeared to be a tall cliffside looking over an immense clearing in the jungle. In the center of the clearing was an enormous, rather unattractive looking stone structure, its sharp, lethal-looking edges contrasting sharply with its organic surroundings. And not very far away, perhaps a hundred meters or so, was a Sith transport vessel and a makeshift camp with the telltale sign of smoke -- indicating recent residence.

'So, that's the Sith base, is it?' Xarga asked, now laying down on the edge as he gazed through the macrobinoculars in his hands. There was a hint of disappointment in his voice. 'From what I remember of Revan during the Wars I expected a little bit more.'

'These aren't Revan's Sith,' the Disciple reminded him. Aside from his pretty blonde hair now being thoroughly soaked he was his usual meditative, thoughtful type. 'Remember that Revan turned on the Sith five years ago, playing a role in destroying their Empire. These Sith, whoever they serve, are only a shadow of what they once were.'

'Don't let that go to your head though,' Mira observed, not wanting the false impression that lesser Sith were poor fighters. 'An animal when cornered is often at its most dangerous.'

Xarga laughed, a hearty, booming sound.

'You speak like a true Mandalorian, alor,' he said, complimenting Mira in his own way. 'How I wish we had more of your kind amongst Clan Ordo.'

Mira didn't respond. Instead, she gestured for the macrobinoculars Xarga was holding in his hands. He gave it to her without question. Looking through them she examined the camp carefully. There were five Sith patrolling the camp, which was located near a Sith transport that had landed in an open pasture surrounding the nearby Tomb of Freedon Nadd. Of the five three were Sith troopers and two unarmored officers. The image blurred as she spun to take a look at the tomb itself. Its entrance was guarded by two Sith elite troopers, complete with the signature red armor. How many lay inside the tomb was impossible to tell.

'How many are there?' Atton asked.

'Seven,' she answered, giving the binoculars back to Xarga. Atton groaned.

'I knew we should have taken Bao-Dur and the droids with us. I wouldn't have even minded bringing that shifty Sith girl with us if I'd know we were up against these odds.'

'I'll admit that more manpower would be pragmatic,' the Disciple agreed. 'But unfortunately we can't change that now. And the Exile was right about the need to leave at least a few of us behind to guard the ship.'

'Okay, so leave a few behind,' Atton said sighing. 'All I'm saying is that I don't like the odds.'

Mira sighed. She was beginning to realize just how much trouble the Exile -- Ariadne that is -- had to deal with on a daily basis.

'Alright,' she said. 'Here's what we're going to do. It looks like a cave entrance near the Sith's ship is the only way into that clearing. It's an obvious entrance, which they almost certainly have guarded. So it's important that we remain unnoticed for as long as we can. If we can a pull a surprise attack on these bucketheads then we'll have them.'

'Agreed,' Xarga said, nodding. 'What's our battle plan then?'

'Xarga, when we're moving in, you and Dis'll cover the left flank and make sure we don't get any unwanted company from the tomb. Atton, you and I will cover the right flank. We'll try and take out the Sith guarding the transport ASAP while the others cover our flank. We'll use a sonic grenade to catch them by surprise.'

She looked around at all of them.

'We all clear?'

They all nodded except for Atton, who shrugged.

'Hey, I'm used to being outnumbered and outgunned. Why the hell not?'

'Good, then let's get to work.'

With that they began their slow descent back down the cliffside and towards the rock tunnel. As they did so, Atton caught up with Mira and began walking beside her. He had an expression of curiosity on his face.

'Didn't know you knew so much about commanding a team,' he began. 'As far as I could tell you liked working alone better.'

'I do,' Mira said simply, continuing her pace as though he'd said nothing. 'But I didn't have much choice, not as though I could take on the Sith Empire all by myself.'

Atton didn't look entirely convinced. 'Doesn't explain why you're so professional about this,' the smuggler persisted. 'If I didn't know better I'd say you've had experience with this kind of work before -- maybe during the War--'

'I didn't serve during the Jedi Civil War.'

Atton sighed. 'Fine, you don't have to tell me anything -- though I'm getting a little tired of all the secrets. Seems like everyone on the Hawk has something to hide, someone they're running from, some secret allegiance -- even the droids.'

'What about you?' Mira shot back coldly. 'You haven't forgotten what I said have you? I know you've done something. Ready to come clean?'

That obviously had struck a soft spot. Atton's expression change from idle curiosity and slight annoyance to one of genuine anger. His lip curled at the implication.

'Listen, sister,' Atton snarled. 'I stay out of your past, you stay out of mine.'

There was a long silence afterwards, as they descended through the rugged terrain of the rainforest, the rain falling all around them. It gave Mira some time to think. For all his hypocrisy and nosiness Rand had one thing right. Mira did have experience with fighting wars -- far more than she wished she had.

In fact, she remembered it all best here, in this place - on a world that she once called home.

'Mira!'

The red-haired, green-eyed girl's head snapped to the origin of the voice. Behind her about ten meters squatted a burly, stocky Taung covered in thick metal armor, painted red and white. His face was covered by the helmet of a Mandalorian warrior, a small visor the only opening to the world. Within his arms he clasped a handcrafted assault rifle, which he held tight as he ducked for cover at the oncoming blaster fire.

The girl ran towards him, all the while continuing to duck behind the makeshift wall the Neo-Crusaders had assembled around them. With her she carried her own weapons, a small blaster in a holster on her hip as well as a small dagger. Along her shoulder was slung a satchel full of power packs, grenades, kolto packs, and other supplies needed desperately for the fight.

'Hurry up, adiik!' he shouted urgently, leaving his cover for a few seconds to return fire to the enemy.

Mira obeyed and hastened her pace, racing by the other Mandalorians squatting beside the wall as she rushed to reach the Taung warrior. The explosions and sounds of gunfire around her didn't slow her down -- she let it pass over her. It wasn't that she wasn't frightened. Only a fool was unafraid in war. Even for the Mandalorians, who held no fear of death, there was the prospect of dismemberment, loss of limb, or the greatest shame of all, capture by the enemy. Rather, she had learned that letting her fears prevent her from accomplishing a task was far more fatal than any weapon.

After what seemed like hours, but was really only a few seconds, she ran to the Taung's side. She took the satchel off from around her shoulder and sat it on the ground as she began shifting through it.

'What do you need, sir?'

The Taung, named Keldan, pointed towards three soldiers lying beside him. Two of them were low-ranking Mandalorians dressed in the traditional blue armor. Beside them lay a higher-ranking Mandalorian, a woman, whose armor was painted yellow.

'Our brothers, our vode, have been wounded gravely,' he explained. 'A Republic hu'tuun hit them all with a heavy repeater spray a few minutes ago. They've been lying here ever since. I trust you have some kolto on hand, Mira.' She nodded. 'Good, administer it to our vode, so that they may rejoin the fight.'

'Yes, Buir,' Mira obeyed, bowing her head as she knelt beside the three bodies in front of her, beginning to examine their various injuries.

The two lower-ranks were relatively uninjured, although clearly in a painful condition. They seemed to have avoided the brunt of the blast, taking only a series of scattered shots to the side or arm. Although far from fighting condition they were most definitely going to survive and Mira spent only a few minutes on them each, removing the armor around their wounded spots and spreading some kolto along the wounds.

The female commander, a ruus'alor judging by her armor and the insignia scratched into her shoulder guard, was the last she checked. A close look showed that she had taken the brunt of the blast. Her armor was severely burnt along the lower chest and right arm, with holes scattered throughout the charred metal. It was immediately clear to Mira that her injuries were far worse than those of her subordinates.

Mira began to carefully remove the armor surrounding the woman's wounds, opening the locks binding it together. Below was revealed a skintight, bland-colored jumpsuit and near the breasts, over the lower ribs, was a smear of blood. Gently, Mira brushed the blood away, revealing a deep, burnt gash. Slowly, carefully, Mira touched it. The woman groaned in response and Mira let go.

Quickly, she dug through the satchel she had before her, looking for another kolto pack. She found one quickly and clicked it open revealing the inside. From a small compartment she took a syringe and from another, a vial of kolto liquid which she then placed into the back of the syringe. Then, taking careful aim she pushed the needle into the woman's flesh and squeezed on the syringe. Slowly the kolto drained from the needle into her blood. The woman seemed to relax a bit, the miraculous kolto obviously already at work.

Then she coughed, a sick sound that sounded somewhat congested, as though the woman was breathing through a liquid. Suddenly, Mira realized the small amount of kolto she carried with her wouldn't be enough. This soldier needed real medical attention and Mira was no medic. To be sure she reached for the woman's helmet, and removed it, revealing the face of a young, blonde-haired human woman somewhere in her early twenties. And on her lips was blood.

She turned her head to the man she called buir, father.

'Buir!'

Keldan gave a hand signal to his comrades, indicating that he would return in a moment. Then he turned and looked at Mira.

'Yes, ner ad, my daughter?' he asked concernedly, taking note of the urgency in Mira's voice. 'Is something wrong?'

Mira nodded.

'The ruus'alor -- she's been coughing up blood. I think the blaster wound punctured her lungs. If we don't do something she's going to die!'

Although Keldan did not remove his helmet Mira had become accustomed to reading the body language of soldiers even when their face was hidden. His shoulders tensed, his posture straightened -- he was clearly worried by the development.

'I thought it might be so,' he murmured. 'Even as they lay her on the ground behind me it seemed as though her wounds were grave. Mandalore himself would waver between this life and the next with a wound such as that. Quickly -- fetch a medic from the war camp!'

Mira nodded and then began running in the opposite direction while Keldan, her father, turned his attention back to the battle at hand. She scurried over the corpses of dead men whose flesh was already stinking of rot, tumbling over the trenches the Neo-Crusaders had dug out for the defense of Dxun, brushing past soldiers running to the front. All the while the rain splattered down around her, soaking her as she dashed through the thick mud.

She would save the ruus'alor. She had never failed before.

Some hours later, after she'd reached the medic and told him of the emergency and after he had failed and the ruus'alor had died, Keldan came to talk to her. Night had fallen and the battlefield had fallen quiet, at least in comparison to its earlier state during the day. A few missiles still flew and every few minutes one side or the other would throw a volley of blaster bolts at the other. But the battle, for the most part, had subsided and there was a calm about the battlefield as both sides took their rest.

Before Mira laid the body of the woman she had tried to save, her armor removed and her body dressed in ceremonial clothes. Beside her and around her lay hundreds of other such victims, soldiers brought down in their pride. And around all of them were soldiers, gathered around in a circle, helmets removed to honor the dead. They were of many races, many planets -- Taung, Humans, Twi'leks, Trandoshans -- but all of them were Mando'ad, all of them were Mandalorian.

'It wasn't your fault, ner ad,' Keldan said soothingly, touching Mira's shoulder and clasping it tight. 'You did your best, no one asks for any more. By the time you came to her she was already dead though her body knew it not. You are not to blame and by your actions you helped aid two others. You should be honored, not ashamed.'

'I could have saved her -- I know I could have,' Mira lamented, squatting down and burying her heads. She tried to hide her tears. It was a sign of weakness.

'You are still but a child, Mira,' her father explained. 'One day, very soon, you will become a woman and join us on the fields of battle as a vod, a brother in arms. But for now, ner ad, you are not ready. Feel no shame in not living up to your elders for I see in you the potential of a true warrior.'

Then, he knelt down and took her in his arms, hugging her close.

'Ever since you came to me,' he said softly, 'as an orphan of our war I've known that there was something special about you. You were different from other orphans we took in; I can't quite explain how. But I am sure now. In every way you've exceeded my hopes and expectations. You are a keen hunter, an honorable soul, and a loyal daughter. You are more than adequate, Mira, you are exceptional. And I am honored to have you as my daughter.'

No longer able to hold back the tears Mira let go and hugged her father close, sobbing into his shoulder. And there, for a moment, they crouched together, holding one another tight.

Then Keldan stood up and Mira turned around. A single Mandalorian had stepped forward with a torch, holding it for all to see. Then, after a short pause, the figure threw the torch into the assortment of bodies, lighting the burial mound in flame. Then, as it burned, one of the Mandalorians, a leader dressed in red armor, began to sing.

'Kote...'

Slowly, the entire crowd, Mira included, began to join in the somber dirge.

'Kandosii sa ka'rta, vode an

Manda'lora a'den mhi, vode an...'

'That should be the last of the mines,' Mira whispered quietly as she deactivated the thermoptics camouflage flooding the surface of her body. They didn't want to alert the Sith, a few mere meters away, of their presence. 'I've swept the area three times now. If I missed anything than I'm not going to find it.'

'That's a cheery thought,' Atton put in dryly. His voice wasn't quite as quiet as Mira's but to his credit he was actually very good at staying hidden when he wanted to be. 'Sith sure gave us a warm welcome.'

Mira nodded, sighing. She touched her wrist launcher, opening it up and spinning the barrel inside to fit darts. From the pockets on her utility belt she took out five of her stun darts, fitting them carefully into them carefully into the launcher, and then closing it shut to conceal the weapons.

'Wish I had one of those,' Atton remarked sourly.

'I thought you'd be content with your new lightsaber,' Mira teased, closing the pocket along her belt.

'Are you?' Atton groaned, looking at the unused hilt hanging from his belt. 'I can barely swing the damn thing without cutting my arm off. Never realized these things were so hard to master. Can't believe Ariadne thought I was ready for this thing.'

'I know what you mean,' Mira admitted, picking her own lightsaber off of her belt and gazing at it somberly. She didn't know what Ariadne had been thinking when she'd decided to trust them with such weapons. And Mira still wasn't sure if she was comfortable with the very idea of becoming a Jedi. After all, for years she'd blamed them for her family's death.

Still, the Force had come in the handy, since the Exile had revealed its nature to her on Nar Shaddaa and before then too, when she hadn't even known it was working through her.

She closed her eyes and let it flow through her. It wasn't easy, she wasn't used to surrendering her defenses and letting some foreign presence invade her very being. But the small training she'd received from Ariadne had helped, and she'd come to recognize that the Living Force was not foreign, but rather, a part of every living being, although one that only a few were consciously aware of. And Mira had really been already using it for years before Ariadne had come into her life. The only difference now was that she was calling on it rather than relying purely on her instincts.

What came was faint, but all the same clear. Although she couldn't read their emotions the way a trained Jedi like the Exile might she could feel the presence of the five Sith patrolling the camp just outside the cave exit. And judging by the fact that they didn't seemed to be moving in regular, easy patterns she guessed they were still as of yet unaware of her and her companions.

She opened her eyes and looked at Atton, then Xarga, then the Disciple.

'You ready?'

They all nodded.

'Alright, Atton, execute the attack.'

Gritting his teeth in concentration the smuggler snatched a grenade from his belt, holding down on the arming device and timer with two fingers as he poked around the edge of the cave wall, took aim, and threw the weapon into the unsuspecting crowd of Sith soldiers. Moving into position from behind him Mira caught a glimpse of the blast and the following chaos as various Sith troopers ducked for cover and a shrill, ear-splitting noise filled the air. She clasped her hands to her ears, the high-pitched scream of the grenade painful even from such a far distance as theirs.

The Sith reaction was worse however, little surprise considering that, be it by the smuggler's seemingly innate luck or the will of the Force, Atton had thrown the grenade into the dead center of the camp. At that range the sonic shockwave was enough to incapacitate its unfortunate victims or, for the ones furthest from the blast, stun them for a few seconds. That was all that was needed for Mira and the others to take control of the situation.

Seeing her chance Mira took aim with the Mandalorian Assault Rifle she carried at one of the two turrets turning in her and Atton's direction. Before it could finish she fired a blast, sending a streak of red bolts colliding into the turret's armor with a shower of sparks and smoke. She pulled the trigger again and this time the turret's armor exploded completely, sending shreds of metal everywhere. The turret, nearly in firing position, stopped short.

Atton meanwhile proceeded to blast away at the other turret while the Disciple and Xarga behind them moved into an opposite position facing the tomb, waiting for any attempted flank by the Sith troopers. But if Mira and Atton's attack was pulled off as planned than there wouldn't be enough time for reinforcements to arrive.

By now the Sith who hadn't been immediately knocked out by the sonic grenade's blast were recovering from the initial shock of the ambush and were already falling into order again. Although they didn't have the discipline or training that Revan and Malak's troops had during the Jedi Civil War that wasn't much of a comfort as, even with some of the Sith knocked out, they still outnumbered Mira's team and had a far superior position tactically speaking, the plethora of war supplies stacked around them serving as makeshift cover.

Taking note of this Mira dived quickly beneath her cover, as her father had trained her to do and then, while the Sith powdered the rock she hid behind with blaster fire, she waited until there was a pause in the gunfire. Then, noticing one for even just an instant, she pounced from her position, took aim at one of the Sith rising from his cover to take fire again, and fired the concussion rocket fitted securely into her wrist launcher. In an instant it soared forward, and then, to Mira's satisfaction, exploded in front of the Sith, sending him flying backwards.

She didn't take time to celebrate, but instead, dove straight back down into her cover. Not quite fast enough, however, as she yelped in pain as one of the blaster bolts skimmed her left arm, along the wrist, a few centimeters from her wrist launcher. She gritted her teeth at the pain, cursing the Sith who'd dealt her it.

Her retribution was dealt by Atton apparently for a mere second later she heard one of the Sith cry out as Atton let out another spray of blaster fire. He continued firing for a moment, his fighting filled with spirit and enthusiasm. Then, after a few seconds, he turned back into his cover just as a stream of red blaster bolts flew past where his head had been.

'Fun, ain't it?' he said grinning. 'Sith didn't know what hit them.'

'Wouldn't exactly call it that,' Mira remarked bitterly. She knew that Atton didn't share her particular standing on some moral issues. For example, her reluctance to kill, which even exceeded Ariadne's. After all, Ariadne had killed millions, albeit indirectly, during her fight against Mira's people.

Mira shook her had that. If she thought about it that way it made Ariadne look cruel -- evil even and the Mandalorians, Mira's own people, look innocent and undeserving. Mira had, over the years, come to realize that things weren't quite that simple.

But there was that one thing. How since she'd joined the Exile, killing had become a little bit easier. It wasn't something Mira liked, but it was true.

'Something wrong?' Atton asked.

'It's nothing,' Mira said simply. 'Let's get back to the fight shall we?'

'No complaints there.'

With that Atton and Mira both poked out from behind their cover, Mira with her Mandalorian assault rifle and Atton with his twin pistols. For the remaining Sith trooper squatting behind a plasteel container it was far from a fair fight. The moment he poked his head out from behind his secure location a blaster bolt hit him on the left leg, and then on both arms. Stunned from multiple impacts he fell back, and then, while he was poised helpless on the ground Mira switched her wrist launcher to darts, and fired. The dart whistled towards the Sith's unprotected neck, sinking into his skin and sending him into a deep slumber.

'Well, I guess they're not so tough after all,' Atton commented, surveying the battlefield. 'Didn't even have to kill more than one.'

'Aren't you forgetting about the ones in the tomb?' Mira asked.

Atton sighed.

'Right, right, spoil my victory celebration why don't you.'

Mira rolled her eyes and turned to Xarga and the Disciple.

'How's our flank looking?'

'Looks like the sentries at the entrance have noticed our little excursion out here and've thought to set up. Looks like they've taken cover and are preparing for an assault.'

'Well, we wouldn't want to disappoint,' Mira chided as she reloaded her wrist launcher.

'Certainly not, not after they took such trouble in preparing for us,' the Disciple added.

Atton gave what sounded like a cross between a grunt and a half-spirited laugh.

'Was that a joke I just heard from pretty boy?'

'Alright, enough chit-chat,' Mira said. 'We're not through yet. Remember that Ariadne's counting on us to finish the job and keep the Sith from reinforcing Vaklu. Let's not fall short.'

I only hope I can finish the job without murder, Mira thought softly. I've killed enough in this life.

Mira stood crouched on all fours above her target, her dagger at the Zabrak woman's throat. The Zabrak, named Leela, grinned at her, stretching the elaborate, dark tattoos covering her olive skin out of shape.

'Why don't you end it bounty hunter?' Leela taunted. 'You'll never take me alive. I'll make sure of that.'

'Why are you so eager to die?' the seventeen year old girl shot back. 'Far as I remember the warrant says dead or alive and its several times more profitable for me if I take you back alive.'

'And you notice who signed that warrant?' the Zabrak answered coldly. 'Loppak Slusk -- Exchange. I'd rather die than be one of their prisoners.'

'Seems to me lying in a cell is several times better than dying.'

'Then you don't know much about life,' Leela spat. 'The way the Exchange treats their prisoners makes death look like a gift.'

Mira hated to admit it but from what she'd heard about the crime syndicate and her brief run-ins with it she'd guessed as much. The Exchange rivaled the Sith in downright cruelty and their ranks were filled with sadists who reveled in finding new ways to cause pain. And with their eyes and ears everywhere throughout the galaxy, it definitely wasn't a smart idea to cross the Exchange.

And she knew what it was like to crave death. She still remembered Althir. She still remembered cradling her father Keldan's body in her arms. She'd learned to live afterwards, but only just barely.

'I prefer not to kill my bounties,' she said simply. 'I think that, no matter the pain, there's always hope in life.'

'So you're an idealistic hunter, are you?' Leela sneered. 'I've heard of you. They call you weak.'

Mira gritted her teeth and pressed the knife closer against the Zabrak's throat.

'I'm not weak, di'kut.'

'Then prove it,' Leela egged on. 'Kill me. Show me that you're not the weakling I hear you are. Cut my throat open.'

Mira almost did, almost spilled the blood of that self-righteous schutta. The loss in revenue wouldn't have been much, a few hundred credits, which she could have easily made up for with another hunt. She clenched her left hand as she gazed at her right, its fingers clasped tightly around the dagger she'd had since she was a young child.

And then she remembered her promise. Her promise to her fallen father. Never again, not after Althir. She would never kill again, not unless she had to. She wouldn't bring that pain and suffering unto others that she had suffered on that cursed world. She wouldn't murder.

So she relaxed her grip.

'Just like I thought,' Leela sneered. 'A fool.'

And then, Mira realized her mistake. While she'd been distracted with the dilemma of killing her prey Leela had loosened the red-haired girl's grip on her. With a sharp and sudden kick she threw Mira backwards off of her. As Mira hit the ground a meter away, the Zabrak leapt into action, rolling off of her back and into a crouching position.

'Sorry about your bounty, huntress.'

Then, as Mira watched stunned, Leela stood up, turned her back to Mira, and began running for the edge of the walkway.

'No!' Mira cried out.

Mira thrust herself off of the ground, throwing all of her energy into pursuit. She couldn't let Leela kill herself, she could let her throw her life away, no matter her crimes. She'd made a promise that all life was sacred. She reached for her wrist launcher, setting the ammo load to her stun darts. If she could just take aim and shoot the Zabrak, before she reached the edge...

But it was too late. Smiling, Leela threw herself off of the walkway even as Mira took aim and fired. The dart whistled on past, mere centimeters over Leela's face as the Zabrak curved back into darkness. Mira ran to the platform, watching in horror as her bounty tumbled through the dark pit before her, streaming downwards towards the city floor kilometers below.

Leela...

She buried her face in her hands, kneeling down at the edge of the walkway.

Forgive me, Buir. I failed...

'Watch out!'

Mira dove for cover, alerted by the Disciple's warning, hitting the ground forcefully. She grunted as the air was knocked right out of her. Snapping her head around to look behind Mira caught a glimpse of a dark-clad figure jabbing a force pike towards where her head had been only a moment ago. Then, in an instant it was gone.

She rolled along on the ground, thrusting her left arm, the one her wrist launcher was wrapped around, outwards towards the place where the assassin had been only a second ago. With her right arm she clicked on the fire button, sending a dart flying. But she wasn't fast enough. It whistled on through empty air.

'Damn Sith Assassins!' she cursed. 'Wish they'd just stay visible for a moment!'

Around her, the rest of her companions were busy in the fight. As she'd expected the tomb had been filled with Sith forces although she'd expected more troopers and fewer Dark Jedi. And she hadn't expected the bomas at all. An error on her part.

The Disciple, who had just saved her life, was already wielding the green lightsaber he'd forged a scarce month ago, deflecting several of the red blaster bolts sprayed in his direction as he charged the Sith troopers firing them. Mira couldn't help but admire the man's finesse with the weapon for although, as far as Mira could tell, the Disciple had been just as inexperienced as she or Atton was with the Force, the blond-haired medic had taken to Jedi training much quicker than they had. His form was still clumsy in comparison to Ariadne's but considering that she had literally decades of experience that wasn't really a disappointment.

She turned her attention back to her own surroundings. She felt a tingling in her neck, a sudden chill down her spin, and she rolled out of the way.

As she spun around into a crouching position to face the opposite direction she realized that she'd been right. Just as she'd expected the Sith Assassin had appeared behind her. She took aim with her wrist launcher but before she could fire the Assassin knocked her arm out of the way, and then jabbed the force pike in her direction. She curled backwards, the pike thrusting forward over her.

The Assassin's attack having failed she reached for the blaster rifle at her side, pulled it out, and fired straight into her attacker's abdomen. The Sith gave out a cry as he was thrown backwards from the blast. Mira leapt up into a standing position, pointing the blaster at her opponent where he laid on the ground and shot his legs. He wouldn't be getting back up any time soon.

Not having much time to waste she spun around to survey the battle. The Disciple had now routed the troopers attacking him and Xarga looked like he was beginning to have the advantage on the boma beast he was wrestling desperately with in a struggle for life and death. Atton, stubborn as ever, seemed to be carrying wounds that would have incapacitated most men and yet he was still fighting on, yelling with unholy fury as he unleashed a firestorm of blaster fire on the three Sith Assassins still standing. However, they were quickly closing on him and it didn't look like he was going to last much longer.

Realizing what she had to do Mira dove behind wall along the ramp heading down into the center of the tomb as she reloaded her wrist launcher. Taking the last of the concussion rockets she'd thought to bring with her she loaded it into the miniature device and prayed to whatever gods existed that her mark would be true. Then, not even taking a moment to check her aim she lifted up, pointed her left arm over the cover, and fired at the space between Atton and the Assassins.

An explosion later she checked to see whether she'd fired true. Not quite as only one of the Sith had actually been knocked unconscious from the blast and the other two seemed only a little dazed. However, it had bought Atton time. The Sith confused, looked around to see from what direction the blast had come and while they did so Atton picked one of them off and Mira, rolling out from behind her cover, charged the last remaining Assassin, tackling him as he desperately tried to turn and take a swing at her. She felt the pike cut a swab across her shoulder but she didn't let out, diving into the last of her enemies standing.

The Sith's force pike flung out of his hand, sliding across the stone floor along with Mira's own blaster rifle as Mira proceeded to wrestle with him along the ground, gripping at his helmet as she struggled to remove it. The Sith reached for the small blaster pistol at his side and with her right hand Mira stopped him, pushing his arm down to prevent it from drawing blaster out of its holster. With her free arm she pressed the locks on the helmet open and with a hiss of depressurized air it popped open.

Desperately the Sith twisted, grunting as he tried to throw the girl off. Mira held on tightly with both arms, continuing to press down on both of the Sith's arms, which were caught on his left side. Then she swung her left arm at the Sith's mask, grabbing it and tossing it off, to reveal a male Arkanian. As she tried to hit him the Sith managed to break her grip on his arm, drawing out his firearm and preparing to take a shot at her. Before he could a foot stepped down on his outstretched arm. There was a distinct crackling noise and the Assassin howled with pain. His hold on the pistol released. Mira looked up to see Atton pressing his weight down on the Arkanian.

'Ooo, that didn't sound good,' the smuggler said, feigning pity. 'Might want to lay off the fighting for a while.'

The Arkanian grunted, sweat beading on his pale forehead. He struggled to release his arm but Atton pressed down harder.

'I wouldn't do that if I were you,' Atton warned, smiling cruelly. 'Otherwise you might end up with more than a few broken bones.'

'I'll take it from here,' Mira said. With that she picked up the Sith's force pike and turned it up to full. Then, putting in all the force she could muster, she swung the pike across the Sith's head, knocking him unconscious.

Atton sighed.

'You know, it really would have been simpler to kill him.'

'No,' Mira said sternly. 'We won't kill him unless we have to.'

'Listen, I know all about your code of honor and all but we can't take chances with this guy. He's a Sith Assassin; they hunt through the Force. You can't lose them or shake them, no matter what you do they'll keep following you until one of you is dead.'

'You seem to know a lot about Sith Assassins,' the Disciple observed, walking in from the other direction.

'Yeah, well, I hear things,' Atton explained, shrugging. Despite the fact he hadn't missed a beat Mira wasn't quite sure if she believed his convenient explanation. 'In any case it doesn't matter. He's a threat as long as he's alive.'

'Well, he won't be a threat for at least half an hour,' Mira said, examining the Sith's head wound. 'And a blow like that will give him quite a headache when he finally does wake up.'

Atton shrugged.

'Whatever.'

Mira noticed as he shrugged that he flinched and hunched forward, clasping his chest with his right hand. Then she remembered his wounds, the ones he'd suffered from the battle. His right arm was badly singed, as evidenced by the charred sleeve he wore over it.

'Alright, tough guy, let's have a look at those wounds.'

'It's nothing really,' Atton insisted. 'I've been through worse.'

'Let me decide that,' the Disciple offered. Atton cast a glare at the medic. It was hard enough for him to admit his vulnerability right now but having him accept the Disciple's aid would be asking the impossible. So Mira decided not to let it be a request.

'That's an order,' she put in. Atton grunted.

'And who put you in command?' he snarled.

'Ariadne, as a matter of fact,' Mira shot back. 'Now let Dis' take a look. Don't make me ask Xarga to interfere.'

Atton cast a look at the Mandalorian. Behind Xarga, lying in a puddle of its own blood, was the boma beast he'd just killed, its head twisted in the opposite direction evolution had dictated it should.

'Fine,' the smuggler conceded, sitting down with a groan. The Disciple approached slowly, pulling a medkit out from a satchel he had tied onto his belt.

'This shouldn't take long,' he promised as he examined Atton up close. Mira watched from afar, wanting to see how bad Rand had been wounded. His trademark ribbed jacket had three holes through it and with a closer look it was obvious he'd been hit pretty badly, with the undershirt beneath stained red. He also had what looked like a head wound, probably from a concussion grenade.

'Those look pretty serious,' she observed.

'They are,' the Disciple agreed. Atton opened his mouth to protest but the Disciple cut him off. 'No matter what he might say.'

Mira nodded. 'Patch him up, then leave him hear. I don't want him ripping open his wounds in combat.'

'Hey,' he objected. 'I may be hurt but I can still fight and who knows how many Sith lie beyond that door.' He motioned to the ramp behind Mira and she turned to look at it. It descended down to a great slab of metal. After a quick look she realized that she recognized the metal. It was Mandalorian iron, beskar.

Surprising that I'd find it in the middle of a dead Sith's grave, Mira thought. Metal like that suggested that whatever or whoever was on the other side didn't want to be disturbed.

'Doesn't matter what's on the other side,' Mira replied. 'Fact is that those wounds are going to make you more of a burden than a help. So you're staying here.'

'But--'

'Don't argue with me, Rand,' she ordered. 'I'll use force if necessary to keep you here.'

Atton grumbled something under his breath but stopped arguing. Meanwhile the Disciple popped open the medkit he'd brought and pulled out a syringe, placing a carefully measured dosage of kolto in its back before injecting it into Atton's bloodstream. Then he took out a few kolto-layered swipes, brushing Atton's wounds gently with them.

'That should help with the healing process,' the Disciple explained. 'He'll have to rest though for it to work properly. I can't do anymore until we get back to the Ebon Hawk.'

'Understood,' Mira acknowledged. She looked at Atton sternly. 'Do you?'

'Yeah, yeah, stay right here. Don't move. I got it.'

Satisfied she turned away and walked towards her blaster lying still on the floor and picked it up, slinging it over her shoulder. Then she saw the body of the Assassin that she'd shot in the gut laying still on the floor. A flood of fear filled her body. She rushed over the body and checked his pulse. It was still there, but faint.

'Damn it!' she cursed. She'd forgotten all about him. She had to save him if she still had time. 'Dis! Give me one of your medpacs!'

Atton groaned.

'What -- you're going to waste our kolto on a dark Jedi?' he complained. 'For frack's sake sparing the life of a dangerous opponent is one thing but saving them? This is insane.'

Mira ignored Atton's protests and cried out to the Disciple again.

'Quickly!'

The Disciple moved over next to Mira and brushed her away as he took a look at the Sith. Then he shook his head.

'It's too late,' he said. 'I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do with him without a full body soak and we don't have a kolto tank on hand.'

'But...' Mira felt tears well in her eyes. Not another death on her hands... not again...

'Death is a part of the Force,' the Disciple said, consoling her. 'It isn't something to fear or shy away from. You did what you had to.'

'Look at it this way,' Xarga added. 'He wouldn't have hesitated in killing you. It was kill or be killed. Why mourn the death of your enemy?'

Mira bit her tongue. It was what Keldan would have said, it was what she'd been brought up to believe. But she still remembered the fires of Althir and then hearing of Malachor a short while later. Her whole family had been destroyed by bloodshed and she'd made a promise not to make others suffer as she had.

But she also knew she couldn't show weakness, not when Ariadne was counting on her to be a leader. So she wiped her eyes, nodded, and stood up, turning to look at the door at the other end of the ramp before them. She gestured to Xarga and the Disciple to follow her.

'Alright,' she said, without meeting the gaze of either's eyes. 'Let's take a look at that door.'

They moved down the ramp towards the metal door in front of them. Along its edges were carved intricate patterns of letters and imagery. She recognized it as being similar to the same type of art that they'd seen on Korriban. The Sith influence was obvious here.

As was its presence. Beyond the door she felt something cold and dark.

'Something feels...' She paused, unsure what to say next. 'Wrong here.'

'I agree,' Xarga said nodding. Mira was disturbed to notice that there was a hint of fear in his voice. 'I may not be a Jedi but even I can feel what you people call the Dark Side here. There's something in the air -- as if the blood of millions is present in these very stones, crying out for vengeance.'

'Freedon Nadd was a brutal tyrant,' the Disciple put in. 'From what I understand his rule was far crueler, far worse than even Revan and Malak's were together. He twisted the people of Onderon into his slaves using dark powers forgotten to the modern Sith. Perhaps it is best that they remain so.'

'I don't think the Sith plan on letting bygones be bygones,' Mira observed. 'I can feel them beyond the door. I'm not sure how many, something's interfering with my senses. Something about this structure...'

The Disciple nodded. 'I've heard Ariadne say that the Dark Side shrouds everything. Most likely the dark forces surrounding this tomb are preventing you from perceiving through the Force clearly.'

Mira examined the door. Before they considered what lay beyond they had to figure out if they could actually get in. Mandalorian iron, even to those who didn't know about it from firsthand experience, was notoriously strong and if this door was as thick as it looked even a lightsaber wouldn't be able to cut through, at least not for a long time.

She pressed her hands against the stone perimeter of the door, feeling for some kind of lock or other such mechanism. Nothing.

Great, she thought somberly. Without a lock there's no way to get this thing open. There must be a way though. Those Dark Jedi got--

Then she realized. Those Dark Jedi. In other words, Force-users. The Sith they'd encountered hadn't been adept in wielding the Force, even the Sith Assassins who had mostly fed off their enemy's energy for strength. The Sith behind the door were the leaders, the ones with an affinity for the Force. And this was after all a Dark Jedi's tomb and most likely many of its secrets were carefully hidden so that only a true servant of the Force could find them.

Mira closed her eyes and opened herself to the Force, the way the Exile had showed her to. At first, there was nothing except the dark, painful presence of the walls around her, echoing with hatred and cruelty. But then, as she listened, standing there, she felt what she was looking for. She reached for it and she felt her hand hovering right over it. But it was hidden behind stone bricks.

Now what?

And the answer came to her. Command it forward. It seemed natural, almost easy, as Mira reached out and told the stone to come forward.

And as Mira she began to hear the sound of gears at work. She opened her eyes, seeing that the stone in front of her hand had budged a little outside of the wall and that the metal door was beginning to move upwards. Then she looked to see what lay beyond. There stood four Sith, all dressed in the dark wear and carrying the red-eyed mask of a Sith Assassin.

Three sat prostrate in front of a large sarcophagus in the center of the room. Mira could feel that they were draining at it, draining it of its dark power. The fourth one, the furthest back, seemed more powerful than the rest, with long robes flowing off of his back. He seemed to be draining the energy through them.

It was this one, which upon the door's opening which spun around to see the intruders.

'Break the ritual, now!' he commanded immediately. Upon his command two of the three others stood up in time to survive his command. The other however, was still in the midst of the ritual when he suddenly screamed, arching his back as though something was tearing him from the inside out. Then, as quickly as his torment had begun, it ended, and he collapsed, falling stiffly onto the stone sarcophagus. It looked like he hadn't been strong enough to continue the ritual without the focusing force of his master.

The robed Sith seemed to pay no heed to this sudden death, instead focusing his gaze on the three intruders. Now that the Sith were facing hers and the others directions she saw that they had lightsabers on their belts, probably explaining their confidence in facing them face to face.

'You are too late,' he announced proudly. 'We have done what needed to be done. Soon Onderon shall fall, and with it, the Republic will die.' At the word Republic his voice turned like poison, as though it left a bitter aftertaste. He began to reach for his lightsaber and as he did so Mira moved her right arm to her wrist launcher...

Then, he stopped, moving his hand away from the hilt of his weapon.

'But what is this?' he asked, his voice filled with confusion. Then he turned his gaze solely toward Mira and nodded, in what seemed to be comprehension. 'Ah... of course, the Force has guided you here.' By you it was clear he meant specifically, Mira. She wasn't sure why, because, after all, the Disciple was just as if not more well-trained in the Force than she was. But for some reason, this Sith had singled her out. Perhaps because he sensed the others followed her? She wasn't sure but it wasn't a pleasant thought that he could read them so easily.

She knew such abilities came easily to trained Force-users. Ariadne was well-skilled in such techniques. But she never used them casually, or at least never openly admitted it. This man on the other hand thought nothing of delving into the private thoughts of those around him, and boasting their secrets to all.

'It echoes within you,' he continued. 'Yet I sense it is...' He paused, as though considering how best to speak his mind without offending her.

'Untrained,' he finished simply.

'Untrained?' she asked, feigning confidence. 'Yeah -- so what?'

He laughed. 'It is good you have sought us out. This tomb is strong with the Dark Side. Here is where you will take your first steps on the path to your destiny.'

'This'll be good,' Mira said to herself as she followed Ariadne through the bustling crowds of Nar Shaddaa. 'Show me the Force. Right.'

Around them the crowds flowed in and out of the buildings surrounding the central pit. This area was nearby the docking district and as such, was one of Nar Shaddaa's busiest sections for kilometers. Smugglers, pirates, refugees, and the Core World tourists here for the pazaak tournaments were all swarming like busy ants. Everyone had a place to be, everyone had a place to go.

Everyone that is, except for the homeless.

Mira, despite her bravado, soured at the sight of the dozens of men and women without homes who littered the streets. Huddled in corners, burying themselves under rags for warmth, and begging passer-bys for credits they were the rundown, ignored, trodden over folk of this world. In a place like Nar Shaddaa, which was ruled either by the corrupt Hutts or the downright parasitic Exchange they were a frequent sight. Mira remembered when she first arrived on this world, much like them, without money or a home, her only family killed in the Wars. She'd had no one to turned to. Somehow, she'd escaped this wretched life of theirs.

But she'd been lucky, something she never forgot when she considered the lives of those others called lazy or stupid. Not many had a talent like hers, a talent for finding people, a talent which had quickly found her work. If she hadn't possessed that talent she could have ended up like many of the homeless girls who came to Nar Shaddaa, working in an abusive brothel where nine out of every ten credits she made would go to her 'manager.'

She shook the thought from her mind, preferring not to dwell on those dark times. And then she saw that Ariadne, her bounty, had halted by the edge of the central pit, standing there calmly, her bright, short hair fluttering from the wind caused by the hot air rising from below.

'What's wrong?' Mira asked, confused. 'Why are you stopping?'

'This is the place that Kreia showed me,' Ariadne said, turning to look at Mira. 'Where you can feel Nar Shaddaa around you - where you can feel the Force.'

Mira scoffed at that.

'I've been by here hundreds of times,' she replied, unconvinced. 'There's nothing special about it.'

Ariadne shook her head.

'Only because you haven't had the proper guidance,' she answered. If it had been someone else, Mira might have taken offense at that. She didn't like being patronized, she was used to caring for herself. But something about Ariadne was different and it was clear that she meant no offense.

Also, there just was something special about her, as though she had some kind of connection with Mira. All that Mira knew was that she trusted deeply in this Jedi, although she didn't know why.

'Close your eyes,' Ariadne commanded, although it wasn't stern, more like a suggestion. 'I want you to hear Nar Shaddaa.'

Shrugging Mira did as the Jedi commanded and closed her eyes. At first, it felt like nothing, just as she'd expected. All she heard was the bustling of the crowd and the shrill hum of air speeders flying overhead and below. And the quiet, ever quiet wind moving past her head, filling her hair with a slight breeze. So quiet, almost like whispering...

And then, Mira realized she was hearing whispering. Someone was whispering to her.

Who? Where is it coming from? Mira asked herself. But she didn't open her eyes. Instead, she strained her ears, and drained her mind of other thoughts. She focused on that sound, the sound of the whispering. Slowly, it began to grow louder, until she could barely make out the words.

And then it stopped. In its stead was a single voice. A clear, guiding voice that sounded like it was coming from everywhere. It only took Mira an instant to recognize.

Feel the currents of Nar Shaddaa.

Ariadne? Mira thought.

The ebb and flow of life, the voice whispered, ignoring her question. Where one creature feels pain, it lashes out...

Mira obeyed and no longer simply listened. She reached out with her sense of touch, extending it around her. She felt the cold metal around her, the rough pavement beneath her, the cool air above and behind her, and the warm air rising up in front of her from the central pit. Around her, she could feel the people moving, could feel their skin, their clean, polished skin, and their unwashed, dirt-covered rough skin. She felt their pain, their anger.

The whispering returned, but it did not drone out Ariadne's voice, which still rang through clear.

Feel the currents here on Nar Shaddaa, the ebb of life. A simple kindness can be given to another.

A feeling of warmth rose through Mira. It was though she was laying in a warm, hot spring of water, like the ones her father had taken her to on the many worlds they'd lived on. She felt as though her pains; her dark memories were all being washed away, like dirt under the flow of running water. She felt pleasant, at peace, almost as if she were in love. But it wasn't that kind of love; it wasn't romantic love, but rather an all-encompassing love for everything and everyone. And everything around her smelled sweet.

The whispering grew louder, but Mira paid no heed.

This is the Force. And all our choices, from the greatest to the smallest, affect each other. And the echoes travel.

Mira felt around her, smelled around her, listened around her. And then, she saw. In a way she couldn't describe she perceived what was around her as though she was looking with her eyes. At first, she thought she'd accidentally opened them and ruined the exercise. But after a moment she realized it wasn't that for never before had she seen such color, such brilliance on Nar Shaddaa, a world which always was shrouded in darkness. And yet they weren't colors as she could describe them. There was no red, no blue, no green as such. But the only way she could describe what she saw was colors, even if their hue was unlike any she'd ever seen before.

She felt her love for the planet, for her home, blossom and rise to new heights at the sights before her. She saw ripples move through the air, as people touched one another, spoke to one another, hurt one another, helped one another. And the ripples expanded, multiplied, as they collided with one another, bringing new ripples.

Awaken, Mira.

And the whispering grew louder.

Suddenly, Mira felt panic. The ripples grew into a storm. Chaos flooded her vision. The whispers, no longer whispers, but more like ghostly shrieks of pain filled her ears. With each collision, with each explosion of ripples, they grew louder until they deafened out all other noise. Fear and pain swelled through Mira's body. She bit her tongue, trying to block out the pain. But with each collision the pain grew worse and her whole body felt as if it was being torn apart. She clutched at her head, her senses feeling as if they were being ripped out.

What's wrong?

It was Ariadne, her voice full of concern.

'I can feel this... planet... I can't shut it out,' she whimpered, clutching at her head. Tears of pain flooded her eyes. 'It's louder now... it hurts. All these people...'

You can learn to shut it out, Ariadne's voice answered. Slowly all the noise, all the pain, all the chaos, seemed to fade as though something was pushing it away. There are Jedi techniques for calming the mind.

Cautiously, Mira opened her eyes, to the world as she had known it. Everything looked as it had, everything sounded as it had. And yet something was... different.

Wait... Mira realized slowly. Did she say I could learn Jedi techniques?

At first, Mira thought she had misheard Ariadne. But when she gave it thought she realized she hadn't heard wrong, not in that strange, painful state she had been. Everything she'd heard clearly, almost too clearly, including Ariadne's voice.

But her -- a Jedi? It seemed impossible. For all her life she had resented the Order, blamed it for all the evils that had befallen her. It had been Revan, a Jedi, who had destroyed her family and her people. It had been the Jedi who had destroyed her childhood. The Jedi were arrogant, proud, apathetic. Even her meeting Zez-Kai Ell hadn't changed this perception of hers. She had always considered him an exception.

More to the point, the Jedi were extinct, except for Zez-Kai Ell, Ariadne, and a handful of others. And those that remained were hunted, by people like Mira, bounty hunters more than willing to polish off the last of the Jedi for a few extra credits. Even if Mira hadn't had such strong reservations about the Order the thought about joining them was -- ridiculous. Almost funny.

'But if... if I become a Jedi,' she laughed weakly, tears still streaking down her face. 'I'll have to turn myself in for the credits.'

'Well,' Ariadne said. Her voice no longer sounded as if it came from everywhere but it was still just as gentle, just as guiding as it had been during Mira's vision. 'As a Jedi, trust me, you'll always be short of credits.'

Mira laughed a little at that, a laugh choked up in a sob. Waves of emotion filled her: her fear of the unknown, her resentment towards the Jedi, her pain from the Wars, and her shock from the experience moments ago. Yet she realized, through all of this, that Ariadne wasn't tricking her at her expense. This was real, this was honest, it was from the heart and soul. She truly meant to help her.

'Are you going to train me?' she asked hesitantly.

'Only if you want me to, Mira,' Ariadne said softly. She walked closer and Mira could feel the older woman's arms embracing her. 'I have shown you the way, I cannot force you down that path.'

With that choice before her, Ariadne felt turmoil. A Jedi? Was that what she wanted? Was it not what she wanted? Did it not go against everything she believed in -- to bow down her will before some dogmatic code and become a servant of the very people who had killed her father, Keldan?

But that's not really how it is, she thought, sniffing. She moved her hand to dry her eyes. Maybe... maybe the Jedi were like that at one point. But I've seen Ariadne and I've seen Zez-Kai Ell. They're different somehow, not what I expected.

And the more she thought about the more she realized how similar the Jedi were to her and her family. Both were a family that transcended blood for had not Mira been an orphan taken in by the Taung named Keldan, and had not Ariadne been raised by those who were not her parents? Both followed a code, a set of regulations by which to guide their actions. Both believed in honor, perhaps different sorts of honor, but honor all the same.

Most importantly of all, Mira realized, she'd seen Ariadne. Although she may have been hunted the Exile was not weak, was not vulnerable. She was strong, powerful even and a great warrior. She was confident. She was how Mira wanted to be.

Mira lifted her head to gaze into Ariadne's serene, blue eyes. Then she let go of the Exile and nodded, standing firm.

'I... I am ready,' she insisted firmly. 'I want to become like you. I want to be strong! I don't want to be afraid or alone anymore.'

She thought of her, holding her father's corpse, weeping over it on the fields of Althir. She thought of the news from Malachor, of all the rest of her family, dying in a savage, futile battle against the Republic. She thought of Hanharr, who'd spent the last four years hunting her down. She thought of Ariadne's strength in spite of all that stood against her.

'I... I... I don't want to keep running, and looking, and never feel like I'm finding what I'm looking for,' she continued. 'I'm tired of being hunted.'

She sighed, realizing that if she was going to follow this path, she'd have to release a lot of the pain she'd become used to. She'd have to put aside her prejudices, her distrust of the Jedi, and accept Ariadne's guidance, wherever that might take her.

'When the galaxy takes something from me,' she said quietly. Filling with more confidence, she gazed into those blue eyes again. 'I want the power to let go... and I want the power to heal the echo when it's gone.'

She noticed that Ariadne was bowing her head down, as though those words reminded her of something, something perhaps akin to the pain that Mira knew.

'I... I cannot promise that, Mira,' Ariadne said softly, sorrow filling her words. She looked back up at Mira. 'I can only teach you what I know.'

She paused, seeming to be wracked by memories of pain. In that moment, for an instant, Mira saw how close she was to the Jedi, how Ariadne, like her, had suffered from destruction and loss. She had heard echoes too and she hadn't yet reconciled them. And somehow, that made Mira want to be her student more.

She looked off into the urban landscape of Nar Shaddaa, watching the air speeders flying beneath the stars and she knew that she had to be the one to reach out this time.

'All right - I think I'm ready to try, then.'

And with that she turned, took Ariadne in her arms, and held her close. And this time, they cried together. That in mind Mira knew that, although she wasn't sure yet where this path may take her or how far down it she would walk, she'd made the right choice.

'Hey -- what's with the conversation?' Xarga asked defiantly. 'We're not here to talk with you Sith. We're here to finish a mission and you're standing in our way!'

The Sith leader ignored the Mandalorian, his attention completely focused on Mira.

'I know all about your Dark Side,' Mira replied icily. 'I know how it twists truth into lie and good intentions into cruelty.'

Around her Mira could feel the anger the Sith felt at her remark. Yet he controlled it, channeled it. He wasn't the mindless, uncontrolled cultist that she'd come to expect from the Sith. He was different.

Like how Ariadne was different, she thought.

'What lies has your Master spread?' he asked laughing. 'What have they denied you in their ignorance? The Jedi preach calm and serenity while wallowing in weakness and hypocrisy.'

Although Mira continued to stand firm and her hand still was positioned to grab her blaster she recognized his words. They were all too familiar, all to familiar because she had once felt similarly.

'They would have you become a puppet of the Force,' he continued tauntingly. He began to circle around her again. 'They would have you deny the strength of your emotions - the strength of your own will.'

He gestured around the room, spreading his arms out wide.

'Can't you feel the power of this place?' he asked. He stopped, leaning his face in close to Mira's. 'It echoes through you like a second voice. Accept it... embrace it.'

She shook her head.

'No... you're wrong about them.'

But she knew that her voice sounded desperate, pleading almost. His words all too well reflected her fears about the Order. Apparently the Disciple noticed it too.

'No, Mira! Don't let him tempt you, the Dark Side leads only to death!'

'Just give in,' the Sith continued. His voice seemed so tempting, so honest. 'Let the walls around your emotions fall. Let vengeance guide your hand, let passion fuel your power. You feel it, yes?'

Mira had to admit, she did feel it. This place, this tomb steeped in power, its stones were soaked in it. Yet it wasn't the kind of strength she wanted, not the kind of strength she'd asked for from the Exile. This power was cruel, corrupting -- dangerous even. It would give her the power to destroy her enemies yes but in the end it would destroy her as she sacrificed all the values she had once held. To harness this power she'd have to let go of her promises, to her father and Ariadne both. She wasn't ready to do that.

Yes... the Dark Side was strong, but Ariadne had already given her a different, better kind of strength.

'No,' she answered sternly. 'I won't follow your path, not into this.' She looked at the dead Sith lying on the stone sarcophagus, his end so callously ignored by his master.

She could feel the Sith's anger rise.

'A shame,' he spat bitterly. 'Instead of freedom and power, you have chosen death.'

His lightsaber flew off of his belt and into his right hand. He ignited it with a deep, humming sound, a long, crimson blade lighting reflecting off of his black mask.

'So be it.'

Before the Sith had time to take a swing at her though Mira already had her arm out. She fired the last of her darts, aimed squarely at the Sith's neck. It flew towards her and then, in a blink of the eye, the Sith moved out from the dart's path which landed harmlessly on the ground. He laughed, now a meter away from where he had been a mere instant ago.

Impossible... she thought desperately. That had been her last dart.

'You think a petty bounty hunter's toy could stop me?' he boomed. 'With the power of the Dark Side I am invincible!'

He turned to his apprentices behind him.

'Kill them.'

'Yes, Master,' they said in unison, reaching for and then igniting their own lightsabers. Disciple drew his own lightsaber and Xarga his sword.

'We'll see you in hell!' Xarga shouted.

One of the Sith shot a streak of Force lightning at the Disciple, who leapt out of the way and onto a wall before flipping off the same wall and spinning in for a counterattack. While Xarga charged the other Sith, screaming Mandalorian curses Mira reached for her rifle, yanking it off of her shoulder sling and swinging it forward into a forward aiming position. Moving the reticule towards her target, the main Sith she pressed down on her trigger.

A spray of blaster bolts flew towards the robed figure who simply held out his hand, deflecting them out of his way. Turning he began charging Mira, sweeping his lightsaber out behind him, leaving his flanks open. Mira recognized it as the Juyo form of lightsaber combat, and from what Ariadne had told her it was an extremely dangerous form, both for the person so unfortunate as to meet in combat and the person wielding it.

Supposedly it channeled dark emotions such as hatred, anger, or spite into power and only the most controlled Jedi could use it without straying over into the Dark Side. It also left its user dangerously exposed to attack although these supposed openings were, in the hands of a true master, little more than feints to provoke brash attack.

Taking this in mind Mira took another shot at her opponent as he charged towards her, as expected he wasn't quite as good as he claimed to be and the blaster hit its mark and the Sith was thrown back, his lightsaber spinning out of his hand as he hit the ground, grunting from the impact.

He wasn't down for long and although he was obviously injured he wasn't out. Reaching out with the Force he pulled his lightsaber back to him and before Mira could take another shot, leapt out from his crouching position into the air, spinning like a deadly top as he repositioned himself less than a meter next to Mira.

She swung her rifle in his direction, firing as she did so. Before she reached her mark he made an upward cut with his saber, cutting her rifle into two with a burst of sparks and metal. Scattered blaster bolts flung in all directions and Mira let go of the rifle and rolled onto the ground before one of them could hit her. Lying so vulnerable she only had a second to notice that the Sith had already changed his angle of cut to hit her on the ground. Left with only her instincts she did something she'd never done before.

Before the red blade could dive into her flesh it was met by a brilliant, viridian opposite. The two sabers clashed together with a flash of light and crackled as Mira and the Sith both pressed against the other. Mira gritted her teeth as she felt the heat of the locking blades grow closer to her face. Sweat beaded on her head. She wasn't going to die now. Not yet.

Then she noticed it wasn't that her grip was slipping. As she struggled to regain her hold she found that her limbs weren't reacting as quickly as they should have. Suddenly she realized that there was a foreign presence in her mind, trying to shut down her limbs, leaving her defenseless. She looked up at the Sith above her who was slowly gaining ground.

Get out of my mind! she shouted internally. Quickly, she recalled the techniques Ariadne had taught her to resist such tampering with the mind.

'Since you have chosen the path of the sentinel,' she had said. 'It is important that you learn how to protect yourself against the many powers of the mind Dark Jedi will throw against you. They will try to make your body work against you, fill you with fear, or even drive you mad. You must fight them by focusing your mind, driving out all thoughts but one -- one that you can draw strength from.'

'One in particular?' Mira had asked.

'Not at all,' Ariadne had replied. 'Any thought will do, so long as it gives you the confidence and determination you need to break through a battle of the minds.'

Something that gave her strength. Mira thought of her father, the strong Taung warrior Keldan, who had taught her honor and self-reliance. He had always been there for her, until the end on Althir.

I won't die! she swore. I'm not done with this world yet, Buir. I promise you that I'll accomplish something before I leave.

She began to feel strength returning to her limbs.

I promise, Buir.

With that she felt the invader thrown out of her mind. Looking into the eyes of her opponent, visible at this range even from behind the red goggles he wore, she saw surprise -- perhaps even fear. And with that show of weakness she kicked the Sith off of her. Tightening the grip on her lightsaber she swung it into the only form she knew -- Shii-Cho.

The basics, Mira thought drearily. I hope it'll be enough.

Angrily the Sith charged her, swinging his lightsaber towards her in erratic, one-handed motions. Trying desperately to match him in speed and power Mira simply concentrated on blocking his attacks, looking for any possible chance for a real counterattack. Blade clashed against blade, each time sending a crackle and a flash through the room.

She knew that she was by far the Sith's inferior in melee combat, particularly with a lightsaber which, despite the seeming similarities, was really far different from wielding the swords or daggers she was used to. It wouldn't have been all too difficult for her to miscalculate the path of her weightless blade as it glided through the air, ending with it swinging into her instead of her enemy.

Mira would have gambled that the wildly confident Dark Jedi knew it too by the way he was acting, almost as if he was playing with her as he failed to exploit several flaws in her form that she, even through her deep concentration, was able to perceive. She didn't like it.

She tried to think of what possible advantage she might have over him but nothing came to mind. She undoubtedly could shoot a blaster better than him but they weren't fighting with firearms. She was also a great hunter but he wasn't a game animal, not even a dangerous one. This was war and she was out of her element.

She needed some attack that he couldn't just deflect, that caught him by surprise and could break through any block. Her mind raced... was there any such way to attack him? Maybe if the roof fell through but that wasn't likely. If she could only open through his feints or at least turn them against him.

Then she realized, if she could resist attacking his blind spots until the last moment than she'd have him. She prayed she would react fast enough.

Another swing came, she blocked it. He swung backwards, spinning around as he thrust the lightsaber inward towards her; she leaned out of the blade's way, watching it glide past in front of her. He twisted it in towards her and she ducked, coming underneath it and rising to put her saber in a defensive position just in time for when he brought it back in for another swipe.

'Impressive,' he remarked. 'I sense little training in you but you are a quick learner. What a shame to end your lessons.'

He pulled his lightsaber over his head, leaving his entire body exposed -- or so it seemed. But instead of going for the opening as he might have expected Mira simply let him charge forward with his downwards swing. Confused, he continued with his attack, plunging his blade down and forward with all his might.

Wait until the last moment...

As the crimson blade passed centimeters within Mira's face she dropped to the floor while leaving her arm and the lightsaber it held, extended upwards. The Sith ran straight into her blade, even as he laughed triumphantly, only to realize with horror his mistake as his arm passed through the viridian column of light. He howled as the descending blade cut a deep swipe through his arm. Unable to hold his lightsaber in such pain he dropped it to the ground as he clutched at his nearly severed arm with his good one.

Sensing her moment Mira reached out with the Force and with what rudimentary skill Ariadne had gifted her with she pulled on the Sith's lightsaber. It budged slightly and then, sweat beading on her forehead, she felt it move in her direction, sliding across the floor into her open palm. The Sith disarmed she pointed both lightsabers at him as he rolled over to look at her.

'Do you yield?' she demanded.

The Sith roared with anger but didn't have a chance to say much else when, out of nowhere a red bolt of light and energy came flying through the air, hitting him straight in the head. Mira jerked her head to the direction of the attack and saw Atton, a mixed expression of pain and determination as he leaned, against the wall on his knees, holding his side with his left arm.

'Hey, mudcrutch,' he said, taunting the dead Sith. 'Be careful. We Jedi hunt in packs.'

He turned then to look at Mira.

'Hope you aren't angry with me,' he said simply, shrugging.

Mira opened her mouth to protest but then realized she didn't have much to say. To her surprise she wasn't mad at him. It wasn't that she didn't feel remorse at her opponent's death but... something was different. Looking around she saw Xarga and the Disciple together dealing with the last of the Sith's apprentices, the other laying dead on the floor. Was this really what war was about -- killing? She'd spent years telling herself that battles could be one without the death of an enemy and for the most part, she'd proven right. She'd prided herself in having brought in hundreds of bounties, almost all of them live even if the price on the warrant was higher for dead.

But having fought against the Sith, having resisted the Dark Side, and having seen now how and what they could do with their powers she realized that sometimes, if you played with fire, you were going to get burnt and that unless she renounced violence completely, she could never succeed at fighting without ever killing.

And perhaps that was part of what letting go meant, of what she had asked the Exile to show her do. She had always wondered how someone like Ariadne, who'd killed millions, still possessed a virtuous heart and soul, a model others could reach for. And she realized that the key was remorse and acceptance.

Ariadne felt remorse for all those who had died by her actions, and though she carried the burden of guilt with her every day she lived, she also had come to accept her actions as part of who she was. And if Mira could do that too, if she could accept the consequences of her actions, then she would truly be strong.

And wasn't that what she had always wanted?

'Hey,' Atton shouted, interrupting her thoughts. 'Why've you gone all quiet? What's on your mind.'

Mira smiled.

'Nothing much, just thinking about Ariadne.'

Atton rolled his eyes. 'Join the club.'

'Excuse me, I don't mean to interrupt,' the Disciple put in suddenly. 'But didn't the Sith say something about 'you're too late' or 'Onderon soon shall fall.' Shouldn't we warn Ariadne and Mandalore?'

Mira considered that for a moment and then nodded.

'You're right,' she agreed. 'Check out this tomb for anything valuable -- I doubt the natives'll miss it. Then let's pack up and head out. The sooner we get back to camp the sooner we can warn the others.'

They all nodded and the Disciple and Xarga together began scouring the tomb for items of interest. Then, Mira turned to look at Atton.

'And you,' she said, looking him straight in the eye.

'Yeah?'

'Don't you ever go against my orders again.'

Atton gave what sounded like a grunt.

'Not exactly like you're going to be in command much longer, Miss Prim and Proper,' he scoffed. But he didn't argue any further than that. And that was enough.

For Mira had come to a decision. She was going to let go of the past. All of it. The Wars, the hunts, the pain, the promises. She would always hold Keldan dear in her heart and she'd always seek to save lives when possible and believe that all life was sacred. But she wouldn't let it hold her down anymore.

She was no longer Mira the Mandalorian nor was she Mira the War Orphan. She wasn't even Mira the Bounty Hunter anymore. She was Mira the Jedi, a path she'd chosen the moment she'd turned her back on the temptations of the Dark Side. Ariadne had showed her the way. But in the end it had been Mira who'd taken the first step.

I think I finally understand, Buir, she thought to her dead father. I finally understand how to make you proud.