Forest Of Lies Part 5

Night had fallen, plunging the canopy villages of Kashyyyk into a deep gloom broken only by the occasional sight of the half-moon peeking through the foliage. Czerka Corporation had installed lamps all along the fabricated walkways that connected their small port with the outlying subservient villages. They glowed with soft orange light, creating pools of illumination under the forest's blanket of darkness. Shadows moved on the walkways, avoiding the light and sticking to the dark walls as much as possible. In the light, they could be seen for what they were; Mandalorian warriors.

There were close to twenty of the red- and blue-armored commandos. They moved stealthily across the walk, gripping weapons large enough to take out armored tanks. Coming to a crossroads, the man in the lead, a red-armored warrior wearing a sword over his back in addition to his already-considerable weaponry, made a series of short, quick signals with his hands. With crisp professionalism, the twenty Mandalorians split up into four groups of five and each took different routes toward the same goal. On their own, the smaller groups proceeded with the same swift efficiency.

The groups were to hit the same target simultaneously from four different directions, secure the area, and hold their position until further notice. Silently, they advanced through the shadows, sneaking easily past drowsy patrols, and towards the small impound hangar.

Elsewhere, in the town of Rwookrorro, a band of Wookiees similarly crept through the shadows towards the Hall of the Chieftain; Chuundar's seat of power. Mission trailed along, ready to relay Kono's orders, for the fighting would not start until Kono gave the word. Everything relied on precise timing and coordination between all three groups; the Mandalorians, the Wookiees, and Kono's company.

<>

Unlike the Mandalorians and the Wookiee rebels, Kono's group was not operating covertly. They were in plain sight dead center of the Czerka port. He, Carth, Bastila, Juhani, Jolee, and the droids were going to hit Czerka's nerve center for their entire infrastructure. He would give the people one chance to surrender, and those who didn't would sorely regret their choice. Carth had gone on record voicing his objections alongside Bastila's, but Kono was adamant; anything short of government change would not be sufficient to free their ship, recover the Star Map, and prevent the Wookiee revolutionaries from turning to terrorism. It had to be done.

As they ascended a short set of steps leading to the main entrance, a group of Czerka guards moved to block their way. Kono set his jaw and readied himself for the inevitable, but Bastila surprised him.

She waved a hand at the guards, passing a wave of Force persuasion over them. "You do not wish to be here. You wish to find another place of employment."

They agreed, as if in a drunken stupor, and scattered out of the way.

Kono raised an eyebrow. Bastila shrugged. "Killing people is not always the only choice you have, Kono."

"You'd better be prepared to kill, Bastila."

"Perhaps, but not until it's absolutely necessary."

"It will be."

The inside of the nerve center had the same disinterested, sterile drab look that was so prevalent in Czerka establishments. The night shift receptionist paled slightly when she saw the heavily-armed contingent approach the desk.

"Can I help you?" she asked, trying to keep her voice at the same apathetic monotone that was expected of Czerka personnel. But she couldn't mask her unease completely.

Kono leaned down over the desk, leveling his dangerous brown eyes with hers. "Who holds direct responsibility for the Czerka Corporation presence here on Kashyyyk?" he asked. His tone was harmless enough, but everything else about him spoke of overt threat.

The receptionist made a valiant effort not to show how ruffled she was as she answered him with a textbook waving-off. "That would be Rawn Jorell. I'm afraid he's quite occupied with company business tonight. If you could please come back tomorrow and make an appointment--"

"Where is he?" Kono interrupted.

"Please come back tomorrow and make an appointment," she repeated.

"Tell me. Where. He is," he growled, hitting the woman's mind with a needle of persuasive suggestion.

Her mind was soft and pliable as clay, and she was immediately persuaded to tell him. Satisfied, Kono implanted one more command into the receptionist's brain. "Now leave. Get out of here if you want to live."

The woman was gone in seconds, and they moved along.

"Are you going to kill him?" Bastila asked as they walked.

Kono gritted his teeth. "If I have to."

"I'd like to know what's going on for a change, Kono," Carth complained almost in a whine.

"There is one chance for this not to end up in a bloodbath, and that's if Rawn can be convinced that the danger to the Czerka Corporate investments is too great to sustain and leave the Wookiees to their squabbles. By presenting him with evidence of an organized Mandalorian assault on his port, it might be possible to get him to order an evacuation of Czerka personnel. There will still be a Wookiee revolution, but less people will die."

"What if it doesn't work?" Carth asked.

"Everyone wearing yellow sleeves, from officers to grunts, if they get in the way or resist, will be killed."

Carth swallowed and looked at his shoes, fingering the blaster on his belt. "You know, Kono, I can think of a couple people you're starting to sound like."

"It wasn't half measures that won the war, Carth."

Rawn Jorell's office was two levels up, past a sea of cubicles and terminals, in the middle of a long hall. The office itself was as Kono had expected; lacking any sort of decoration or luster or anything that drew attention to itself and away from the large orange plastering of the Czerka symbol on the wall above Rawn's desk. He was not expecting, however, who would be Rawn's visitors.

A caped Sith, four underlings, and six silver-armored Sith soldiers waited in the office.

They barely had time to gape in surprise before the Sith attacked.

A scything wave of energy bolts erupted from the soldiers' heavy blaster rifles. Carth and the droids dove for cover behind desks and tables and returned fire while the Jedi whipped out their lightsabres and sent deflections bouncing around the room. Kono simply held up a hand and the blasters shots dissipated against his gauntlet. Hooking his fingers, he tore a rifle from the hands of a Sith soldier. Holding it in one hand, he discharged a brace of quick shots that neatly decapitated a pair of the silver-armored soldiers. With his next motion he tossed the rifle to HK-47, who had taken cover beside Carth, and swiftly drew the black sword of Ajunta Pall from its sheath, brining it into a quick parry to block an opening swing from a charging Sith's red lightsabre.

The remaining Sith soldiers scattered as those with lightsabres turned the room into a free-for-all dueling circle.

Kono, Juhani, Bastila, and Jolee had their hands full with the five fierce Sith. All engaged in separate battles with their own opponents, none were able assist any of the others. Kono found to his surprise that they were more skilled in the lightsabre arts than many of the Sith they'd encountered thus far; he was more impressed by the Sith he faced than he'd been by Bandon. His opponent was ruthlessly professional and delivered crisp strikes with more control and intent than Bandon could match.

Filled with the rush of battle, Juhani took on two Sith at once with her twin blue blades. In her people's honored tradition, she fought with the strength and drive of one possessed; what she lacked in advanced skill she made up for with sheer tenacity and the nearly unparalleled Cathar tendency for aggression.

Bastila and Jolee dueled with their enemies in a more reserved manner, saving their strength for critical strikes when they would be most taxing to their opponents. Jolee was content to let the Sith batter away at his skillful defense for long stretches, while Bastila would deliver stinging retaliatory strikes more often. Their yellow and green blades moved almost of their own accord, holding back the biting red sabres.

There was a scream and a body fell to the floor as Juhani stabbed one of her opponents through the chest before whipping the blade through his ribcage to meet another swing. When he hit the floor, already dead, his torso tore wide open, exposing smoking flesh.

Kono felt himself entering the warm, silent world of total combat where all that existed was the sword and the adversary. Unconsciously, he warded the stray blaster bolts that came his way, pushing away their unwanted distraction with ease. Gripped in his hands, the sword moved fluidly from one attack to the next, drawing energy from each of the Sith's counter-moves, slowly draining him. It sang with power as Kono clashed with the Sith, pouring its force into his fight.

As the fighting grew ever more furious, the frenzied flurry of attack and retaliation more chaotic, Kono only became calmer. It seemed the ultimate of contradictions, but he knew better. Contradictions were a perception, and often not even existent. Chaos was the way of the universe, and it created a purer harmony than the artificial creation known as 'serenity', which had to be enforced to exist.

He became chaos.

There were very few who understood the nature of combat as he did. Too many tried to place rules and guidelines on how battle was to be fought; Kono knew better. Battle was about hurting and killing your opponent, neutralizing his resistance, through whatever means were necessary. He took the battle as it presented itself to him, being a chameleon to his enemy's single nature, able to change his technique to fit the particular threat.

When the time came, all it took was a single cut. The Sith's fatigue-induced mistake of misjudging the force behind Kono's stab was sufficient to wreak his own undoing. The black sword tore across the ineffectual parry and sliced through the Sith's neck; the forward thrust severing muscle and tendons, and the withdrawal splitting vertebrae. The Sith fell back with blood gushing from open arteries, not even having had a chance to scream.

The blood was still splashing onto the marble floor as Kono pivoted to face Jolee and his opponent, swinging the sword around in an arc as he preserved its momentum from his last strike. The Sith was occupied with Jolee; the blood of his comrade hadn't even had a chance to fall on him and alert him to Kono's presence.

Kono's sword exploded through his neck, decapitating him amid a red mist and shattered pieces of bone.

Jolee acknowledged Kono with a grunt and deftly deflected a trio of blaster shots, taking out a Sith soldier attempting to catch him off-guard.

The rest of the Sith fell quickly.

"That was... unexpected," Bastila remarked curtly.

"Maybe not entirely so," Carth responded, putting his blasters away.

"Statement: That was fun. Query: May we do it again, Master?"

Satisfied that all the Sith were dead, they began to relax a little. Kono and Juhani remained apprehensive, however.

"He is still here, Kono," Juhani said.

"I know," he replied.

Sword still out, Kono marched up to the big desk at the end of the room. It was covered in blaster marks and blood spatter. With almost no effort he shoved it away, revealing the cowering figure of Rawn Jorell. He held the bloody sword point an inch from Rawn's face.

"So," Kono growled, "I was wondering how the Sith might have known I was here."

"It--it was just a business arrangement!" Rawn stammered.

"Just a business arrangement," Kono repeated thoughtfully. "Just a business arrangement."

"Do you know what this 'business arrangement' is going to cost you?" he asked.

Rawn was unable to answer, feeble excuses dying on his lips. Kono leaned closer, a deadly glare on his face.

"You just decided for every last Czerka employee that gets in my way, whether they will live or die. My patience for your accursed corporation is at an end. So starting with you, I'm going to eradicate Czerka's presence on this world."

Sudden terror crossed Rawn's face. "No, wait! We can talk about--!"

The sword through his neck silenced his protests. Kono spared the corpse not a second glance as he began calling out orders.

"T3, jack into their network and upload the disruption algorithm on my command." Obediently, the droid rolled across the blood-slick floor to a terminal and plugged in, throwing thousands of cutting-edge cracking routines each second at the network's security systems. As T3 worked, Kono laid out the rest of his plan:

When T3 was finished, the Czerka comm network would be crippled and they would be unable to respond to the sudden violence in a coordinated fashion, giving their sparse forces a chance to accomplish their objectives without being overtaken by an organized resistance. The Mandalorians would secure the Hawk, and Kono and the others would meet the Wookiees halfway to kill Chuundar and recover the Star Map. When Chuundar was dead, Kono expected the Wookiees would waste no time getting into the fight. While the Wookiees took up what they'd started, Kono and the others would leave.

He looked hard at Carth, Jolee, and Bastila in turn. "You aren't going to like this, but you will need to be ruthless. We need to move fast, and strike with enough violence to get the job done. That's how the revolution game works; you must rise up and crush your opposition when he expects nothing, or you doom yourself to a bloody war of attrition that you will surely lose to his greater forces. We're committed now and there is no backing out; Rawn Jorell made sure of that by selling us out. And there's no telling how many other Sith are about. So we have to operate on the assumption that anyone that gets in our way is an enemy. If there are honest people here, T3 will give them fair warning and they will have a chance to live."

Carth scowled but said nothing, Jolee nodded his understanding, and Bastila swallowed nervously. Kono went on. "We have two objectives: get the Star Map, and get out alive. We'll kill anyone we must, the objectives take priority. There's a galaxy counting on us to find the Star Forge and stop Darth Malak; failure is not an option."

With a trill of beeps, T3 announced the completion of his hack. The message was sent, warning given, and the Czerka communications grid was down. It was time to start the killing in earnest.

<>

Anarchy broke out in stages.

In the first stage, communication was severed between Czerka headquarters and all its employees. Holofeeds were interrupted, comlinks disrupted, and automated equipment shut down. Lights went out all over the port and along the constructed walkways. Panic started to claw at the night-shift personnel, some deserting their posts but most clutching their weapons with itchy fingers, ready to shoot into the darkness at the slightest disturbance.

Then the second stage hit; fighting broke out in two different areas. At the hangar, the four small teams of Mandalorians hit the Czerka guards in the dark with the force of a speeding locomotive. A few miles away, in an occupied village, civil war erupted between the Wookiees, a mob pressing their way toward the Hall of the Chieftain against the stiff resistance of the High Guard.

Officers and managers at Czerka headquarters were blind and deaf to chaos coming down around them, but from the fragments they could piece together they knew something terrible was happening. The third stage hit them the hardest.

Kono and company exploded out of Rawn Jorell's office, lightsabres drawn and blasters ready. A small group of guards down the hall opened fire, the red projectiles bouncing off the Jedi's lightsabres and Force shields. Carth and HK-47 returned fire, cutting them down with a deadly burst of shots.

Alarms were blaring, security droids roaming in packs, while a hasty evacuation of the building was reducing order to mayhem. The four Jedi, Carth, and the droids, cut through the pandemonium like a knife. Droids fell in pieces to the floor, scorched limbs were hacked off by lightsabre and sword alike.

Despite the turmoil raging inside the Czerka headquarters, it was still fairly still and quiet out in the forest night. With all communications between Czerka employees and the nerve center disrupted, the battle at the hangar was unnoticed by those not close by. But to those attempting to hold off the Mandalorians' coordinated strike, it was a slice of the Dxun offensives.

Heavily-armed Mandalorians attacking out of the dark, concealed by the foliage, and terrorizing the poorly organized company of Czerka guards defending the hangar with lightning-quick assaults of nearly overwhelming firepower. The men in yellow sleeves were falling to the ground in abundance, either dead or with grievous wounds, and not one of the attackers had yet taken a serious hit. It took the Mandalorians less than twenty minutes to eliminate the guards and move in around the hangar.

<>

There were perhaps two hundred dead Wookiees at the entrance to the Hall of the Chieftain. The High Guard had died to the last, fighting like demons and taking down twice their number before they fell. But the rebellion had grown too large to be stopped by their resistance. As many as had fallen to the High Guard's blades still lived to tread over the corpses of their fallen comrades and enemies alike. Here and there among the bodies were the yellow-sleeved carcasses of the sparse Czerka guards, horribly mutilated by the vengeful rebels.

The streets were awash with blood. In places it dripped and poured over the sides of the old platforms, falling miles to reach the forest floor. In others it oozed up against the massive Wroshyr trunks and painted long, red streaks down into the murky depths. The odor of death was inescapable.

Zaalbar looked about unhappily, saddened that it had come to this. Having to fight and kill his own people was sickening, but he'd been left no choice. Chuundar's followers were fighting to keep the Wookiees enslaved, and so had made themselves enemies of their own people. If not for Chuundar, none of this would ever have been necessary. Chuundar had to be killed.

As he and his father approached the sacrosanct doors, the ceremonial blade held firmly in Freyyr's hands, Zaalbar steeled himself for the inevitable confrontation. Chuundar would have fortified himself and those remaining of the High Guard inside. The sacred Hall would be turned into a another bloodbath.

So be it, he thought. The rightful Chieftain is returning to take his seat, and let those who oppose him fall under Bacca's blade.

Mission was chattering on the comlink some distance behind him, out of the way, safe--if anywhere could be safe ever again. She was alerting Kono of their progress, and listening to Kono's stern reminder not to destroy the Star Map.

Zaalbar grunted to himself. That was one thing that Chuundar would need not worry about ever again. He would answer for his crimes, and never again look upon his shiny trophy.

Standing at the threshold of the door, Freyyr roared to those inside. "Chuundar! The time has come! Deliver yourself to be executed or be held responsible for violating the sanctity of the Chieftain's Hall and be shamed for all time! By the blade of Bacca's sword your pretension to rule has come to an end!"

There was no response from within.

Freyyr stepped aside and nodded to a pair of big Wookiees holding a huge, heavy log. At his signal, they rammed it into the doors.

To everyone's surprise, the doors flew wide open with little encouragement. Just beyond, inside the Chieftain's Hall, was a rank of stern-faced Wookiees armed with bowcasters; the last of the High Guard.

Instantly, Zaalbar dove for Freyyr, knocking him out of the way as the High Guard opened fire. The two Wookiees who had battered the doors open were cut down immediately, the bowcaster bolts tearing them apart in seconds. Outside, the Wookiee rebels dove for cover as the sizzling green bolts scythed over their exposed positions.

Zaalbar saw Mission crouching behind an overturned wagon, digging frantically in her pack for something. He pulled his own bowcaster from his back, slammed in a cartridge, and stood to return fire. Setting his sights on the Wookiee in the middle, he squeezed off two shots. Both bolts hit their mark and he was rewarded by the target's head snapping back in a spray of blood. Instantly, the High Guard directed their fire at his position, and he ducked out of sight, hoping to have bought Mission enough time.

He was gratified when he heard her yell, "Fire in the hole!" and she hurled a grenade through the open doors. Zaalbar only hoped it wasn't a thermal detonator.

There was an intense white flash from inside the building. Silver shards flew from the blast. The enemy's bowcasters fell silent.

Peeking out from behind his cover, Zaalbar looked inside the building. Where the grenade had detonated there was a black scorch mark, but the walls, the floor, and the ceiling were all plastered with a gray substance. The bodies of over a dozen Wookiees were encased in it, stuck to the floor and the walls by the blast and frozen beneath the silver crust of the grenade's payload.

He and Freyyr stepped grimly over the threshold, brandishing their weapons. No one remained in the antechamber who had not been caught in the grenade's enveloping blast of carbonite. Beyond the gray encasement that covered a large part of the floor were the doors that led into the main chamber.

Freyyr opened the center door, into the main hall, the gleaming sword of Bacca held out before him. As the door swung open, a blaster shot rang out, and he roared as the bolt clipped him across the shoulder. In fury, he drove his sword forward at the yellow-sleeved Czerka officer who stood just behind the door. The blade tore open the man's chest cavity, spilling he innards over the wood floor.

Zaalbar elbowed past his father, raised his freshly-loaded bowcaster, and shot at anything that presented itself to him. Four more Czerka officers went down with gaping holes in their stomach or chest and two charging Wookiees had their legs shot out from under them.

His chest was heaving with rage, his heart pounding like a hammer, and his hands like iron on the grip of his weapon. He scanned the vast hall, and to his surprise, found it nearly empty. He supposed Chuundar must have sent most of his bodyguards and devout followers to die in the streets while he cowered within.

Almost disappointed, he reloaded his bowcaster and stalked about the length of the hall, his keen eyes alert for any movement. He felt rather than saw a bowcaster bolt streak by behind him. He snapped about and found the offender instantly, just barely visible behind a column. A single shot screamed from his own weapon and the Wookiee dropped immediately. In the background, he heard his father dispatching another hidden threat.

Chuundar was not here. Zaalbar knew where he was.

He turned and ran for a door into the side chambers, looking for one he knew in particular. He heard Freyyr rush to catch up with him, but he didn't really care; he knew exactly what to do when he got there.

Throwing open a familiar door, Zaalbar was greeted by an unsurprising sight.

The Star Map was active, the glowing sphere that hovered above its tripodal base casting the darkened room with a pale, saturating blue light. Chuundar stood transfixed by it, oblivious to everything around him.

"Face me, Chuundar!" Zaalbar yelled. His brother ignored him.

Gritting his teeth, Zaalbar took up aim and fired.

The green bolt hit its mark, ripping through Chuundar's kneecaps and spilling him to the floor. The black-furred Wookiee winced from the pain, but was otherwise sedate. A small smile even crossed his lips.

Livid, Zaalbar seized his brother, throttling him.

"Look at me! See the face of the one you betrayed!" he roared.

Chuundar's eyes came into focus for a moment. He regarded his brother. "You cannot imagine the power, Zaalbar. It promises so much more than those Czerka fools could ever give me. And all it asks in return is my soul. I think it is a fair trade."

Zaalbar's lip curled in disdain. "You are a fool, my brother, to listen to the promises of the Dark Side."

"The Dark Side? I said nothing of it. It is the Builders who promise thus. It is by their will that I did as I did. The Infinite Empire shall rule all the galaxy once more; the Builders will see to it."

Zaalbar heard his father enter behind him and come to stand over Chuundar in judgment.

"I disown you, Chuundar," Freyyr said, "you are no longer my son. You are stripped of all honor and will go to the grave among the cowards and madclaws."

The blade of Bacca's sword rose in the air, its point held above Chuundar's throat. His eyes seemed to stare off into nothing, paying the sword no mind.

With profound finality, Freyyr drove the sword into his son.

Chuundar's neck exploded in blood. The madness in his eyes was darkened.

It was over.

<>

It was difficult for Kono to avoid stepping on any of the bodies, they were plastered all over the streets in swathes. Dead Wookiees and dismembered humans and Twi'leks wearing the yellow sleeves of Czerka Corporation lay in vast blood pools that stained the walkways.

It seemed they were a bit late. The Wookiee rebels had done much, the sheer volume of corpses was appalling.

Bastila and Carth, more accustomed to battlefields filled with the black scorch marks of blaster burns and cauterized lightsabre wounds, where the sights and smells were dominated by fire and the burned, were taken aback by the sight of the wash of gore in the streets, the ever-present stench of mortal wounds and copiously-spilled blood.

Juhani and Jolee forced themselves to be impassive, hiding their revulsion behind masks of duty.

The carnage had no effect on Kono. He'd seen every kind of battlefield, massacre, and slaughter there was to see, and learned to distance himself from the horror so he could continue to function with all his faculties. It drove some in the special forces into stress disorders, but he was not among them.

The gore was pervasive, but by far the thickest in the front of the building called the Hall of the Chieftain. The corpses were almost all Wookiees, a great number wearing the bandoliers of the High Guard, the personal protectors of the Chieftain himself. Wookiee rebels stood in closed ranks around the whole perimeter of the sacred hall. Bidden by someone inside, the Wookiees parted ranks to allow Kono and his company through.

Mission and Zaalbar waited for them in the antechamber. The whole room bore silent witness to the explosion of a carbonite grenade. The wood was scraped raw where the silver encrustation had been peeled away from the floor and walls. The young Twi'lek's face had an expression of tired resignation rather than her usual cheery enthusiasm.

First Taris and now this; the girl had seen more death than a fourteen year-old should be expected to endure.

"Is it here?" Kono asked.

Mission nodded. "This way."

It took her little time to lead them into the small chamber where stood the still-active Star Map. Kono could see the bloodstains everywhere, but there was not a body to be seen.

"Was he here?" he asked Zaalbar.

"This is where he died. Father and I threw his corpse into the Shadowlands, where it belongs." The Wookiee's face twisted in consternation. "Kono, he said he was doing the will of the 'Builders'. What could he have meant by that?"

The Builders. Well, that was hardly surprising.

Reaching out through the Force, Kono could easily feel the tug of the Star Map's power, it was the strongest he had felt yet. The ones on Dantooine and Tatooine had both been almost benign, and the Map on Korriban was soaked with all manner of energies, but this one was different entirely. It was almost as if it had a mind of its own, and a voice that whispered into his mind.

Kono knew instantly what it was. When he saw the tantalizing symbols - symbols he reognized - emblazoned on the base it was confirmed beyond a shadow of a doubt. The Star Map was a trap.

He whirled around, facing the others. "Everyone, get out of here, right now." His voice was low and even, but interwoven with deadly urgency. No one argued with the look on his face, the warning in his eyes. In a matter of seconds Kono stood alone with the glowing Map.

When the last door clicked shut, Kono drew the black sword of Ajunta Pall. It hummed with a deep cadence as it left its sheath, like the sound of a lightsabre. Slowly, deliberately, he approached the Star Map, extending the sword forward until the tip touched the triangular base.

In an instant, everything turned black. There was no sensation of movement, no pain or discomfort, just the sudden wrenching away of his surroundings. Kono could feel his body take breaths, hear the thumping of his heart in his chest, but in a detached, observant way. There was no fear, no panic or apprehension, only silent expectation.

A presence wandered close to him in the empty blackness, a familiar presence.

With his mind, Kono blasted a message into the void. "Here I am, Malak!"

Suddenly the presence made itself known. It was Ajunta Pall.

"Leave here!" the spirit hissed.

"I set you free, Ajunta. Why is it you remain?" Kono asked, ignoring the spirit's demand.

"Despite your words, I was never free. Through Korriban's construct I must serve Lord Malak and the Infinite Empire in death, for eternity."

"The Star Map in Naga Sadow's tomb was dormant."

"No, but it was... damaged, and unable to hear the Forge's call."

"But this one can?"

"Yes. Lord Malak has used me to stir up the Wookiees here, prepare them to be conquered when he finally sweeps away the Republic. He knows the secrets of the Map network well, but even he is not able to enter, as he is still in possession of his body. You are not a spirit, but flesh and blood, how can you accomplish such a thing?"

"Your sword knows its master."

"Ah, yes, I should have known. You have mastered that sword faster even than I did; I, it's maker." Ajunta's voice grew urgent once more. "You must leave here. Malak will find you if you remain."

"I will, but I wish to tell you one thing first. One way or another you will have to abandon this Map. Either it is by your choice, or it is because I will destroy it. But leave you will."

The spirit sighed. "Yes, I should have left anyway. There will simply be another to hold me prisoner."

"Ajunta, when I kill Malak, then you will truly be free."

"Thank you for your words, but you still have much to learn of the Forge. Now leave."

Kono's eyes opened. The sword was back in its sheath, the enticing trap in the Force gone from the Star Map.

Reaching to his belt, he unclipped the data module he'd retrieved from the ruins in the Shadowlands. It took only a few moments to find a place on the Star Map itself to plug it in. Icon's vague form replaced the glowing sphere.

"Welcome, master," the AI said.

"Icon, display the location of the Star Forge."

"Affirmative. Advisory: Hyperspace coordinates incomplete due to data corruption."

The fractured set of coordinates appeared in front of him, similar to ones they'd found on the previous three maps. Checking his datapad, he filled in some of gaps in the data, but the set so far was regrettably still useless.

"Icon, new directive: dump Star Map's memory banks into your internal storage."

"Affirmative. Directive complete."

"New directive: erase Star Map memory from the construct."

"Warning, this operation is irreversible. Do you wish me to continue?"

"Proceed with the directive."

"Affirmative. Directive complete. Star Map memory now resides exclusively in my internal storage."

"Deactivate and store."

"Affirmative."

Icon's glowing visage darkened and the three arms of the Star Map folded upward. It was now useless, everything contained in it had been turned over to Icon for safekeeping. The coordinates it contained were still insufficient, but Kono knew they were close now to finding the Star Forge.

He exited the room and faced the ones anxiously waiting. He looked to Zaalbar and Freyyr.

"You should take the Star Map back to the Shadowlands. I don't think it's safe to have it here in your village," Kono urged.

"By your word, it will be returned to the forest," the aged Wookiee replied. "And it shall never be disturbed again."

"A wise decision," Bastila remarked.

Juhani nodded her head in agreement. "Yes, I could feel its dark power even from here."

"They are dangerous artifacts. I believe they may also serve as an intergalactic communication network. This one is the strongest I have felt yet. I also believe Darth Malak is in direct control over them through the Star Forge; this may have been what drove Chuundar into madness in the first place. Deactivated and purged, this one may no longer be a threat, but we are going to have to be very careful with any others we find," Kono warned.

They all looked at each other for a moment.

"So," Carth started, "I guess we're done here."

Mission smiled and bobbed her head, her signature exuberance returned. "You're right, Carth. We'd better find Canderous. He and the other Mandalorians are probably getting bored from a lack of action by now."