"Sorry, sorry, I didn't realise you didn't like to be compared to a large creature capable of ripping the arms off a Wookiee and beating it to death with them, point duly noted," he returns his apparent focus back to the console. He barely notices the new arrival - indeed she is practically ignored until his name is directly invoked.

"They're going to what? Wait, we need to think about this - they're going to wipe out the crew," he pauses for a moment, considering what to do, and comes up blank. "What can we do? You think we can fend off an entire destroyer's complement of troops? We'd just end up failing at best, or else dead - or worse. No, we stay here, we get off, and we hope that they can make it as best they can."

Tok leaves the cockpit in the capable hands of Rin for the moment as the ship begins its warm-up procedures. He enters the cargo bay of the old freighter and taps a coded sequence out on the inner console. The cargo door closes itself and the far wall of the bay opens to reveal an equally old but highly advanced hyperspace communications array. The surface of the holographic imaging surface slowly flashes, indicating a waiting message.

Tok reluctantly stretches out his hand to activate the device and the holographic image of a young Gotal girl greets him with a happy smile. A man's voice "off-screen" says, "Go on, sweetie. Say hello to your father."

The little girl's smile grows bigger, showing a missing front tooth. She jumps up and down, waving her arms excitedly. "Athair! I miss you! Come home soon!"

The image pans away from the girl to show a human man, hooded and cloaked. The shadow of the hood hides his upper face, but his scarred chin and short bristle beard show a smile less of happiness and more of dark mirth. "Greetings, Veltok. You know who I am."

The smile fades, and the man leans forward. "You are taking far longer than expected on this assignment. This displeases me, but not too greatly. I am being treated generously as a guest in your home by your spouse and offspring. Not to worry. I am alone and I will not harm them, provided you come through on your side of the deal. By the time you read this message, you 'employer's' ship will have been pulled out of hyperspace by an ISB ADZ-class destroyer. It is carrying one or possibly more of my personal servants. I can never be sure. Some of them prefer to travel alone, others prefer company of their fellows. While my servants are only there to make sure the experimental hyperspace tractor beam on the destroyer works as intended, the ISB agents on this particular vessel tend to be rather bloodthirsty. If they haven't started killing your companions, they soon will be. You are required to leave the vessel with whatever materials from the dig site you can and bring them to these coordinates for further instruction."

A series of galactic coordinates flashes on the holographic image next to the man's head. "I trust your discretion on this matter. And I trust you will be able to escape before you meet an untimely end. You have done well for me, Veltok. I ensure you will do well for yourself. Otherwise..." The image panned to show Tok's wife and daughter. Morra was playing with some toys. Janna, tired and worried looking, also appearing to be several months into a pregnancy, was sitting near to her. "...they may meet an untimely end as well. I await your next report."

The image flickers off, and the machine powers down, leaving Tok alone in the dark cargo bay of the freighter.

~ ~ ~

A tall, thin caramel skinned man dressed in black strides into the hangar bay several minutes after Sonya enters. He blinks twice and shouts over his shoulder. "The prisoner is in the hangar bay! She's trying to escape with some of the traitors!"

He whips a custom made holdout blaster pistol from a holster harness on his chest and aims at Rin in the freighter's cockpit.

Sonya looks to the others hesitantly, "A faux self destruct message might get them evacuating and possibly distract the white armored people."

She stops as the person in black enters. Smart enough to have their saber drawn and ignited when on guard, a knight is.

Ren-Do looks at the new arrival with a curious look. Another ancient Jedi? How many of us are there here? What she has to say about the intent of the Imperials chills his blood. He looks for the Gotal, but he is nowhere to be found. Instead he turns to Xaramis. "How large is this Imperial cruiser? And how many troops? How many, besides the two present, are on your crew? The very least we can do is warn them. For all the good that will do them."

If only I wasn't in such a horrible shape after this damned hybernation. We could at least hold off the enemy to allow the crew a chance to get away.

He starts walking to the woman and begins talking. "I am Ren-Do Uvara, a Jedi Knight. We are about to..." He stops mid-sentence when the tanned man enters the docking bay and draws a pistol.

"You there," he addresses the man, drawing and lighting his lightsaber. "Stop this madness and drop your pistol immediately."

"There are forty more people onboard, though whether we can reach them is another matter," Xaramis racks his brain to consider options. "I could go find Tok when we get a moment and see if he could patch in to the shipboard intercom, if needed. I've no idea what that ship's carrying, but I can tell you we don't want to be facing up to it."

It is only now that Xaramis notices the new arrival properly, and addresses her directly. "Well hello there Miss - Sonya, was it? If I knew they made Jedi like you, I'd have been much more enthusiastic about your little order."

The arrival of another figure curtails any further comments in that direction. "Oh, is this another friend of yours?" he turns towards him, shoulder-to-shoulder with Ren-Do and Sonya, one hand lightly placed on his sword's hilt. The emergence of the man's blaster answers the question rather quickly. "I guess not. Alright, everyone on board. I don't think this guy's going to drop anything like as easily as the droid did. Rin - it is Rin right? - we need you to get those engines fired up, now!"

"Self destruct? You'd make good Sentinel, Padawan Sonya".

Kellen looks around for a computer terminal then sees and hears the black clad man.

Kellen raises his green blade and begins making his way over to the figure:

"This doesn't have to end poorly for you. Surrender or running away are perfectly fine options"

"I really don't think that we're in a position to tell him to surrender," Xaramis nervously points out in a quiet voice. He's already edging back towards the ship.

Silently agreeing with the Falleen, Ren-Do quickly hits the button to open the hangar bay doors. He thinks about destroying the mechanic by jamming his lightsaber into the device, but remembers the sorry state of his weapon. He switches a comm unit by the controls to broadcast throughout the ship. ++"Attention crew and passengers. The Imperial troops have orders to kill every man, woman and child on board. I hope you can escape or fight. Force be with you all."++

He then runs towards the ship, watching the man in black, trying to see if he has any backup. "Let's get out of here," he shouts at his new friends. "We cannot help the others by dying here."

Kellen had a sour expression on his face.

"Yes, you are correct. I'll be the rear guard."

Kellen took up his position again by the ramp ready to cover his companions.

Rin's eyes flashed up at the arival of this new threat [work faster, work faster, these dame controls are all upside down... and this keypad is so odd, who puts q w and e next to each other!] Rin works as fast as he can bringing every system online and beginning to calculate a short hyper jump, figuring anywhere is better than here and they won't be able to immediately follow.

He keeps hammering away on the controls, desperation becoming more and more obvious [why the Sith cant i make this system work, who's the fool who designed all this, its so complex for no reason... grrr]. the frustration keeps rising until he finally hits the mic switch and curses into the ships speaker system

"Would bloody one of you get up here and help me launch this dam useless hunk of Selldu dung, and quit standing around staring at that twerp. There is a dam cannon on top of this bird, someone get in it and point it right back at him!!"

"By dying here save anyone you will not," the Mon Calamari told her as she cleared a path to the escape pods. To the moon below many of the refugees were fleeing. With them the Library materials went. Knowing the last functional pod would soon be filled, Sonya followed the technician to the cryochamber. Into a tube she climbs and into a hibernation trance she falls. As consciousness leaves, a constant barrage on her calm, sensing deaths is.

The memory echoing, Sonya follows the others up the ramp leaving Kellen to fend off any blaster fire.

Tok hears a commotion from the cockpit and clenches his jaw. Rage and helplessness bubble up from his gut and blood drips from his palms where his nails cut into them from his clenched fist.

They have to get out of here and he has to finish the job.

He strides briskly toward the pilots chair and sees the Dressellian punching buttons, but with very little confidence.

"Rin is it," Tok asks. "I'm not sure where you're trying to take us with those calculations but I've got a better idea. We're heading to Adarlon. It's in the Minos Cluster. It's a bit away from here, but they've got no love for the Empire there."

Tok pulls up a star chart to show Rin and preps the engines for full power. They have to get away and quickly. Everything rides on it.

Two squads of Stormtroopers enter the hangar bay at this time and begin firing at the freighter's hull.

Kellen ran up the ramp.

"Sonya, I could use some assistance."

They ran to the communications terminal and connected to the larger vessel.

Kellen patched into the official comms system and began to issue the auto destruct warning message. The captain would be sure to notice it wasn't real but hopefully the imperials would be fooled into withdrawing.

His message was cut off as the imperials took over ship wide communications.

"Sorry, Sonya. It was a good idea. But I'm afraid I wasn't able to pull it off."

“Are we all on board?” Ren-Do huffs as he boards the ship. “The last being needs to close the ramp, we need to get out of here. And if someone could man the cannon and give those troops something to think about other than shooting us and closing the hangar bay doors that would be excellent.”

He then runs to the cockpit, and arrives just in time to hear the discussion about the destination. “We need to escape this ship without further delay in discussing the end location or doing complex calculations. Just program a jump to any empty area of space. There we can take our time to program a jump to the Minos cluster.”

The Minos Cluster. The name brings up a memory. Ren-Do sees himself and his human master standing on a wind-swept surface of the desert world Quockra-4. With them is a group of nine droids of different types. A battered protocol droid walks to the two Jedi. “Your offer is acceptable to the council. We will make this planet our own, populated exclusively by free droids. In return we will accept your offer of peace.”

The human Jedi Master looks at the protocol droid. “Are you sure? We can keep searching for a more … hospitable world. The days are very hot and the nights freezing, there are no oceans and only microscopic forms of life.”

The droid does not hesitate. “Affirmative. All this has been taken into account in the calculations of the council. The fact that most non-droids find the planet uncomfortable is an advantage for us. The planet is rich in resources and the life that thrived on the planet millions of years ago has created vast resources of fossil fuels we need. The planet has metal resources we can utilize. It suits our needs.”

The human Jedi Master smiles. “Very well. It seems we are in agreement then. We will start transporting the free droids here. And then we will leave you alone. This planet is yours.”

The human and his Cerean padawan board their small vessel and take off. “Master, will the droids be able to create a civilization of their own here, or are they doomed to fail? Will the planet end up as a droid paradise or a droid graveyard?”

His master is silent for a moment. “We cannot know. But they have chosen this, and it will end the remaining unrest with the droid population on Coruscant and the other core worlds. And only the droids produced by the other droids will go to Quickra-4, so they are nobody’s property. Seems like a compromise we can afford to make. And the Minos Cluster might not be in the shiny bright part of the Galaxy, but it’s close enough for them to signal for help if they need it. You did well when you located this planet in the archives, young one.”

The older Jedi Master notices that the Padawan is setting a course back home to Coruscant. “Not so fast my young padawan. We are not headed home just yet. Since we are out here I want to see if there is any truth to old legends. Set a course to the Teh'Jar system. I’ve read so much about the legend of the Um’Tal, the Sky Stone. This is too good an opportunity to skip.”

"But master," the Cerean begins. "The council said we need to hurry back. They are sending us on another mission."

His master holds up his hand. "You need to worry less about the council and all the rules and regulations. I prefer to be a little more flexible. I know it's not in your nature to be flexible on such matters, but perhaps that is one of the reasons you were assigned to me. Sometimes being too rigid is bad. Sometimes we just need to go with what feels right, not what the Jedi Council tells us to do."

Ren-Do snaps out of his reverie. "The Minos Cluster sounds like a good plan. There is a planet there I'd like to visit, if we can. I've been there before," he says cryptically.

Xaramis grins as he looks the Imperial agent and his troops in the eye across the hangar. "Better luck next time, gentlemen!" he laughs, bows, and turns to go up the ramp. A loose shot, fired from too far out, slaps into the hull above as he does so though. It barely scores the void-proof hull, but it's enough for Xaramis to recognise the gravity of the situation, and he takes the opportunity to sprint up the ramp to safety.

"Last one on!" Xaramis shouts as he pounds up the boarding ramp, slamming the hatch close mechanism with his fist as he does so. "Let's get this show on the hyperlanes," he moves inwards to the ship's central area, from where he can be heard more clearly.

"Alright people, let's move like we've got a purpose! Rin, you're a fine navigator, but I'd be happier if Tok was in the cockpit with you to actually fly this hunk of junk! Sonya, if you wouldn't mind manning the turret and turning those approaching bucket-heads into little pieces of fascist I'd be much obliged. Kellen, Ren-Do, if you could head to engineering; you've both got the brains to keep us from falling apart. And Mr Yuzik?" he turns to face the angry-looking Besalisk. "If you could head to engineering too, I'm sure they'll need some - specific assistance - before too long," he smiles, and nods encouragingly, before turning back to the bridge.

Reaching it, he slides into one of the rear chairs. "I've got comms, unless you can think of something more important."

Having tried to assist Kellen in the self destruct ruse, Sonya nods. " Effective these agents of the Inquisitors are."

At the suggestion of the short, green being, she first checks that the Jedi Knight seems to be moving toward the engineering area, then she climbs into the turret, deciphering the controls and sending whatever the thing shoots in the direction of the newly arrived cluster of white armored people.

"Oh, a surgical laser this is!" Sonya exclaims watching the relatively small cannon destroy the crates by the cargo bay door. "And this over here must be how you aim, I believe." She then adjusts the sights for someone her height.

Kellen made his way quickly to engineering.

He stared for a moment at all the consoles and controls.

"Well, in suppose ship technology hasn't changed all that much. The basics appear to be just the same."

Switching on the comms to the bridge Kellen says: "engineering ready".

Ignoring the Falleen as he tries to direct Ren-Do towards engineering, the tall Cerean instead stays in the cockpit. As Tok prepares to take them out he leans over the pilot's chair and looks out of the view ports. "Try to keep the archaeological vessel between us and the destroyer, use them to keep the enemy from drawing a bead on us. They can't shoot what they can't see."

He sits down next to the Falleen, who has taken over the sensor- and communications station. As he familiarizes himself with the ship's computer he curses softly. "Computers. Never did like those things." Suddenly he smiles as he flips three levers. "Shield deflection maximized on our read sector. Won't do much but it's better than nothing."

Seconds feel like hours as the sublight engine status indicator takes an agonizing amount of time to go from red to green. As soon it does, Tok's lightning-fast reflexes take over, one hand on the steering yoke and the other with fingers dancing around the control board.

"Engineering ready," Tok hears through the ship's intercom and he replies with a gruff "You all better be strapped in!"

One last flick of a bright yellow toggle switch and the little ship's outsize engines roar to life. The repulsor lifts whine as they bring the ship to a hover and the landing gear's mechanics groan as they retract. Gently Tok feathers the yoke to rotate the ship 180 degrees and bring it to face the mag field separating hangar from outer space.

The Cerean begins prattling on, trying to give him direction, but Tok's in no mood for it. He raises his right eyebrow as he looks back at Ren-Do over his right shoulder

"It's really hard to concentrate with jaws flapping," he grumbles. "I think you want my concentration at its highest possible level right now.

"Here we go," he mutters, barely audible even to Rin, as spreads his index, middle and ring fingers to punch all three main thruster activation buttons simultaneously.

A shudder goes through the ship and then everyone aboard is violently pushed back into their seats. It takes every ounce of strength and will for Tok to keep his hands on the steering yoke initially, but then the maneuvering thrusters kick in and the controls feel significantly lighter and the ship far more maneuverable than any he's flown before.

Immediately upon exiting the hangar, he makes a 90-degree turn to drop straight down for a dozen kilometers and then does another while doing a 1/2 barrel roll to return them upright and take them back toward the direction of the destroyer but well below it's ventral side.

"I hope you're working on those calculations Rin! Somebody give him a hand will ya?" he barks as he continues accelerating below and away from the destroyer, banking on it taking far too long for the larger ship to get turned around or scrambling its complement of TIEs to be able to catch up to this unbelievably fast little vessel they found...more likely was left for them, Tok thinks.

He flips another series of switches to activate the secondary boosters and pushes the freighter to its max speed, swooping side to side to make targeting it that much more difficult, hoping these ancient beings are able to figure out how to get them somewhere other than here.

Everything is a blur, Tok at the helm is flipping all sorts of switches, bringing the engines fully online. The ship rises up. From somewhere above and behind the distinctive sound of a Laser Turret echoes throughout the hanger, it's powerful blast vaporising something behind them.

Ren-Do sais something Rin is too flustered to hear, but he also points to a small infographic to the side of Rin's console... [Ahh that's why I can't get a solid fix for a jump] Rin starts following the right sequence, an obtuse process with needless steps

"Whats happened to people in the last 4000 years, gone all bloody safety conscious, this doesn't have to be so complex. You don't need all these double checks and triple checks on the process, that just wastes time. Don't make a darn mistake and you will be fine!"

But quickly he gets through the unfamiliar process, the NavComp display cycles rapidly through the calculations, ensuring no objects are in their planed path... to wherever they are heading. Looking out the window the ship accelerates out of the hanger [bloody strewth this is one quick ship for its size, guess these modern folks got something right].

"Tok those coordinates are coming up right now, just keep them off us for a few more moments"

Boom!!!!! The Aurora Grey ruptures in one of the ships side windows, fireballs blooming out into the vacuum of space [come on come on come on]

Xaramis feels somewhat surplus to requirements in his present position; here in deep space there is no need for either sensors or communications - they know where other vessels are, and its unlikely that they'll be communicating with them, for reasons known to all aboard. He allows himself to be carried along on the bridge, much more skilled individuals fulfilling their roles admirably - he's sure that in time they'll be working very well for him. He can content himself instead with enjoying the views out of the ship's broad windows.

As he watches however, he sees with horror the sight of the Imperial ship - no more than a destroyer-weight in size - opening up on the Aurora Grey. Xaramis has studied many interstellar battles over the years - the battles at the Zanthus Narrows, at Alderaan and even the relatively recent Battle of Coruscant, he can recount them all in detail. He had always wondered what a space battle would look like, and even attempted to imagine it - glistening metal leviathans duelling in the void, spitting streams of plasma and spreads of torpedoes, shoals of starfighters roaring around them, the heroes of accounts pushing themselves and their machines to the limit. He thinks of the holovid interpretations of ancient battles - the screams of tearing metal, the blasts of detonating fuel cells, the sound of beams filling the void, the sound of battle interminable and unstoppable.

The reality is rather different. As he watches the destroyer uncouples from the Aurora Grey, a rather sluggish maneuver all things considered, and then begins blasting fire out of its port weapon bays. Beam weapons score the void, silent sprays of red and blue light appearing for a fraction of an instant before slamming into the hull of the beleaguered vessel. As he watches, he sees sprays of material out of the hull - a mix of hull plates, crystals of rapidly-freezing air and liquid material, and, he has no doubt, the bodies of more than few crew.

Without shields, the cargo hauler is easy prey to even the relatively lightly-armed destroyer; here, unarmed, unshielded, at close range, it is as good as dead before it can even attempt to move away. This is no duel in the stars between two glittering titans, each armed and armoured with the finest materials of their civilisations, it is simply the close-in execution of prey by a predator - the same as holding a gun to the back of a man's head, and pulling the trigger. For a brief moment, the ship's engines ignite, before another blast pummels them into sputtering stillness. After that, Xaramis looks away. He doesn't want to see any more innocents die.

Kellen kept his attention on the various monitors and indicators. Those engines were big and they were being pushed. Something could go wrong at any moment and he had to be ready to put it back in order.

He felt something in the Force. It exhilarated him because that connection had brought him purpose and power and peace. It also frustrated him because of how weak he felt - a shadow of his normal self.

The Force was speaking and what he's usually sense without effort was muddled and incoherent. Kellen breathes deeply and quieted his mind, using a meditation exercise taught to Younglings.

As he gained clarity in the Force Kellen grew sorrowful. It was the loss of life he was sensing. The Aurora's crew must be dying. In his self pity Kellen had forgotten what a danger the Force could be: feeling pain, suffering, hatred and anger so keenly in others and in yourself.

It was anger Kellen felt now, at himself for being too weak to make a difference and at this Empire that killed so wantonly.

"Vengeance must wait," Kellen reminded himself. "Now is a time to recover and reorient. I must remember to temper myself with discipline and calmness."

Kellen knew that this was one reason why his master had urged him to go to Ossus: Kellen had taken too well to the mindset and mission of a Sentinel and had lost some of his balance. It was unusual for a Master to make such a request after their Padawan had ascended to knighthood but Kellen respected his Master enough to comply. They had journey together to Ossus so Kellen could be reminded of beauty, culture, and knowledge. In the end they found death and ash.

As Kellen felt embers of life snuffing out as they escaped he vowed to make his Master proud.