Micc'm watches Ren-Do go through the motions of checking the ships systems, a glint of pride and satisfaction in his eye. "Yes, the Nexu were mine. They weren't the most talented pilots, but then again neither was I. They certainly were a dedicated group, though. I suspect when your memories are returned in full, you'll come to find that you knew them far better than I." He lets the enigmatic sentence hang on the air for a few moments before continuing. "We flew simple escort missions when we had enough ships to do so, never seeing much action. That didn't keep us from training as hard as we could. When the war against the Sith Empire began the Council rushed Just in orders of the X-2s for Masters to use. The X-2s had incredibly advanced firepower systems, but they suffered significant power drain when activated. This made them ungainly and terribly outmatched in dogfight against the more agile Sith fighters. We lost so many masters in the first months of the war...when the order was forced to flew Ossus, carrying whatever artifacts and relics they could carry, Nexu Squadron was all that remained to protect the cruisers..."

He trails off then shakes his head with a sigh and mutters something under his breath when he sees Kellen draw the krayt dragon on the ship.

"Then we owe you a debt, Master Altonis. It sounds like you protected us in our escape from Ossus."

Kellen looked up from his artistic endeavors to see Micc'm looking his direction, shaking his head and muttering.

Kellen smiled, a little. He started to feel more at home. The presence of a Jedi Master as well as occasionally frustrating them.

Kellen moved on to checking some of the wiring for the firing systems, they hadn't been checked for a while. Kellen let his mind wander, thinking about he nexu and other symbols on the starfighter. He needed to do his best to live up to the courage and discipline of those in the squadron who came before him and defended his own life....

bzzzzzzzzzzzzt

"Ah!" An electric shock shot through Kellen's arm.

Kellen frowned, then laughed at himself.

Hearing Kellen's yelp of surprise and pain, Ren-Do walks over. "Can I take a look at that? It smells like burnt flesh here, and that's never a good thing. I might have something in my kit to treat burns."

The Cerean looks at the burnt hand and grabs a few items from his kit, squirting some foul-smelling unguent on the burn before spraying it with synth-skin.

"There, that should do it. Wouldn't want that bothering you as you hold a joystick. Have you ever flown a fighter like this before? I get the feeling that might be the test here," he says.

After treating the injury he returns to 'his' fighter and settles down in the cockpit. Since Rin's fighter has already been powered up he finishes the sequence to power his up as well. "Are we flying or what?" Ren-Do says in a loud voice, looking at Sonya and the others.

As Sonya investigates the fighter, she begins to feel a connection to the ship.

Ah, saved me you did, so now save you I must. Fair this seems.

She tries to implement Micc'm's teaching, checking the maintenance points he mentioned and doing what she remembers from his preflight instructions.

Fly an airspeeder, I can. You are similar, I hope.

Xaramis moves towards another craft, looking to inspect it at greater length. He notices a set of glyphs along the nearer starboard wing, just under the cockpit, and eagerly approaches, wondering if this is one of the many craft that he has studied in the past. However as he approaches the sigils with eagerness he catches his knee of the sharp wing edge. The pain shoots up his leg, causing him to double over - straight into the engine housing, which catches his head. "Oh, brashak!" he shouts, embarrassed more than hurt - though he can feel that this is rather more than a simple knock.

Hearing the Jedi summon him, he straightens up and staggers across the room towards the Force spirit.

Tok grimaces at Xaramis's misfortune and heads in the direction toward which Micc'm indicated for the two contemporary beings, guns still drawn, hoping his natural piloting aptitude will help him if they actually have to "fly" these things.

"If that's the case why don't you just tell them," Tok asks, with more than a little frustration bubbling over the surface. "You said you're not playing games, but that's exactly what this is.

"It's no wonder your order went extinct."

Tok sighs deeply and looks at the five Jedi. Poor bastards. He turns back to face Micc'm.

"Unlike you, apparently, I actually care if they survive. I'm staying here to make sure they do. Are you going to tell me how I can do that, or do I have wander around here, hoping it'll just come to me too?"

"I think by now, my friend, that I have a more than vested interest in what occurred four thousand years ago," Xaramis is sure of himself for the first time. "I've come this far through your vision, and now I'm going to see it through to the end. I'm sure that at least one of your Jedi won't want to relive those memories - I certainly wouldn't want to live through the death of my friends once more - and I'm willing to shoulder that burden for them. For us all, if needed."

'What that frak am I doing?' a conflicted voice within Xaramis screamed as he spoke. 'I'm not a pilot, or a Jedi. Why would I want this?'

'Because you want to know,' came the reply. 'Because you've studied the Jedi, and their battles, for so long - now you want to see if it's really true.'

'Hell,' he was sure of himself now. 'I'll try anything once.'

Micc'm stares emotionlessly at Tok. "As long as at least one Jedi exists, the Order is not extinct. It has fallen, yes, according to what you have told me, but I have been isolated from the last three thousand nine hundred ninety-four years of Galactic events, so I have no idea what caused the Order's recent decline.

"If a game this were, I would not be here talking to you as frankly as I am now, and you would be in far worse shape. A teacher keeps things from their students from time to time, to protect them. It is the way of things. I do not split my loyalties. To them I remain faithful. Can you say the same, even with your platitudes?" He turns to face Xaramis. "Can you?"

Micc'm sighs and rubs his face, looking like nothing more than an old man. "I have given you your options. Interpret them how you wish. If you can convince one or two of your compatriots to let you replace them, so be it."

Tok feels a pang in his gut at the accusation, but knows his loyalties aren't divided. They are very clearly focused on the only things that matter.

"So is flying in their place the only way we'll be able to offer assistance?" Tok asks. "Or will there be other ways?"

Xaramis crosses the room. He's uncertain of how he can help, but certain that some of his comrades will definitely be in need of assistance. He beckons the surly Besalisk over to discuss the matter.

"Look, Garon, soon we're going to be taking these," he slaps the flank of a nearby fighter for emphasis. "Into combat. And I don't think you want to do that. With the best will in the world, I don't think you'd be a good pilot, at all. If you want, I can take your place at the controls, but only if you agree."

Garon stared down Xaramis for several seconds. He did not know what to say or think.

The Jedi Council had wanted him to become a pilot after Hakkar died. It was a punishment as much as it was a reassignment. Garon smiled to himself. To hell with that.

Sure. Take the fighter. Cats aren't my style, anyway.

Rin sits in the cockpit of this small fighter, it's controls seem deeply familiar to the young Dressellian, even if he has no clue this ship was actually once his. Looking around he sees many mechanical buttons and a series of small displays for targeting, systems checks and navigation.

[Ok Rin, let's see if this bird is in any state to fly] he hits a couple of worn buttons marked in a Start Sequence list and then flicks the large toggle marked MECO from off to on. Instantly the sub light engines roar to life and the entire display lights up. He dives deep into the diagnostics sub menu and checks the entire sensor suite, everything comes back clear, the ship is in perfect working order... [well that's reassuring, but we are in a vision so it stands to reason these are functioning properly].

Confident in his assessment Rin finally takes the time to look around the inside of the cockpit, to really see the details other than control panels. Many small items adorn the cockpit - a necklace of different teeth, some kind of green wrap, an arrow head stuck to the tip of a lever. To one side of the seat, right along the metal edge below the window seal is a row of small silhouettes. Many Sith fighters occupy the list, even something resembling a corvette is in there toward the end, but a series of beasts are mixed in as well. As Rin looks at these, at the very first mark in the line, and thinks of the Squadron name... Nexu

-----

"Rin, there's a Nexu here, somewhere, terrorising the wilderness. Can you feel it? Even the trees know something is wrong" It was a rugged but still beautiful Twi'Lek speaking. Tun'Liak was her name, dressed in sturdy outdoor greens, a leather strap holding her tails back, she was Rin's Master. Together they had arrived here on Onganta after she had had a vision of imbalance. Right now standing together on a rocky outcrop in the midst of a wide grassy plains.

"We need to find it don't we, Master?"

-----

"Here Rin, the beast has been through here. Can you see these slight depressions in the soil, that bent grass, it was stalking something."

"Master these prints are huge, have you ever seen a Nexu this large?"

"No Rin, I haven't. Not except that Squadron of Fighters that call themselves Nexu!"

----

Rin was creeping through the low bush scrublands, dark leaves filled the trees in the surrounding area, it was close to sunset now and their prey would be home soon. [i hope that mud hides our scent long enough] thought Rin. Master and Apprentice where moving in silence as they crept closer and closer to the den of this frightening beast. For the past three days they had stalked this apex predator. It roamed far and wide, killing far more than it needed, often slaughtering entire herds of animals in a single day, leaving animals bleeding out in agony then sitting back to watch. It needed to be stopped.

[WOW, that things fast as heck] thought Rin as he lay under cover beneath a bush watching the huge beast return to its den. [2 meters tall, double any previous Nexu found, what in bloody the Force made it so dam big] With a burst of motion Tun exploded out of cover, her Lightsaber a blur as she leapt towards the corupted monster. Rin followed suit.

Time stood still, the world stopped, hours could have been days. Yet still they battled with a ferocity beyond belief. Master and Apprentice working as one, tiring their foe, wearing down its defences...

----

"Rin RUN!!!!" The last cry Tun'Luin would make. She was knocked down, her Sabre crushed in the beasts mouth, it stood over her almost savouring the kill. Rin fled, heeding his master, not seeing what was going to happen... And not trying to stop it. For years that would haunt him, that he didn't try to save her. Even killing the beast hadn't prevented his feelings of abandoning her.

Right through that night Rin had fled, the wounded animal hunting him everywhere he turned. He tried swimming down stream, but it just followed, he thought scaling a cliff would work... It followed. Just on dawn as the orange sun was cresting the horizon Rin found himself cornered. Deep within a gully, back to a sheer rock face, giant Nexu mere meters from him. Those cunning red eyes would haunt his sleep for a long time, yet somehow he overcame his fear. [Life and Death, one of us is going to leave here alive, Fear is not the path to victory here] taking a deep breath Rin ignited his sabre ready for the last stand.

[parry, roll, jump, slash, jump, duck, swipe, parry...] on and on it went, neither had slept for over 36 hrs, both where on the brink of collapse. Blood covered Doorintta's left arm, it hung useless with a deep gash down its length. The Nexu was favouring its left side after one of Rin's stabs had penetrated its right hand side. Then the moment came for the final strike.

[Twist this way, lead with an open swing, allow the force to guide me... NOW] with his full might he brought the orange Lightsaber down across the wild beasts neck, it collapsed instantly, the momentum tipping it forward into the dust right at the breathless Dressellians feet...

----

[she's dead because of me, because I ran, because I'm a coward...] tears streamed down Doorintta's face, sitting in the pilot seat of the DeltaX-1 he felt the full weight of the loss once more. The memory of his Masters death overwhelming him, tearing his new world apart, his grief, his sorrow taking him for a time before he could calm himself.

As Ren-Do powers up his fighter he has a bad feeling for what is about to happen. Am I really going to fly this thing? I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all. Seeing Garon walking away from his fighter, allowing Xaramis to board he suddenly gets the feeling he should be anywhere but in the seat of this fighter. His fighter. Somehow he knows this is his fighter.

He looks over to Rin, and sees only the back of his head as his fellow Jedi is apparently focused on getting his fighter powered up and ready to fly. “Hey, Rin, I’m not sure me flying is a good idea. I know I’ve flown before. But I also know that when I did I let the Force guide my movements. I can’t do that now. I think I might just…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, as Rin finally looks up, the look of despair on his face as he thinks about his master’s death.

It’s a look Ren-Do has seen before, and it brings up a memory.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been on this grey dust-ball. All he knows is that no life thrives here, and no life should. No water, too little oxygen, low gravity and endless dust-storms have sapped the will to live from him. His emergency rations have long since run out, and his last sip of water was taken yesterday. He has tried to meditate, but the constant wind buffeting him with sand makes that almost impossible.

He wants to get up from under his fighter to see if he can keep working on getting it airborne again, but he knows there is no chance of that. What the blaster cannons and crash didn’t destroy, the wind and sand has ruined. He wants to get up, but can’t. He has no strength left. Only death awaits.

He feels his consciousness slip away. First his right brain and then the left. This is the end.

............

He wakes up later when he feels a trickle of cool water on his lips. Looking up he can see the face of his friend, Doorintta Bahh. Rin. His friend clearly thought he was dead, from the look of despair on his face and the tears streaming down his face.

Ren-Do coughs, and the forlorn look on Rin’s face instantly turns into a huge smile. “It seems I’m not free of your lectures yet my friend,” Rin says as he helps dig Ren-Do out of the shifting sand under the wing of his fighter. He gives him a little bit of water. “You’ll be flying again in no time,” he says in an almost mocking tone.

Ren-Do, who had been scrambling to get up, slumps back down again. “In that case perhaps you should just leave me. Save you the trouble of tracking me down after I crash the next time I have to fly one of those things.”

Rin helps his friend into a sitting position. “I’ve signaled the rescue shuttle, they should be here in a few hours. The others didn’t think there was any chance you made it. I sort of had to disobey a few orders to go looking for you. I’m sure you’ll visit me to the brig,” he says with a grin.

“It was a good thing you managed to boost the signal of that locator beacon,” he continues. “If you hadn’t I would have had to spend days searching for you from low altitude. And you, my friend, didn’t have days to spare.”

As Ren-Do gets to a sitting position and swallows more water Rin decides to break the good news to his friend. “The council agrees that we need more training. They are forming up a new squadron. I’ve already been added to it. They call it the Nexu-squadron. I’m sure they’ll throw you in there with the rest of us once you’ve recovered. These are desperate times.”

Ren-Do blinks furiously. He’s back in the cockpit. Back inside the holocron. Rin is still looking at him, clearly feeling even worse than he is. “Don’t worry. This will be alright. I might not be able to pilot, but I have to trust in the Force. It has brought us to this place for a reason. And if I crash, as I inevitably will, I’m sure you’ll be there to rescue me, just like you did almost 4000 years ago,” he says with a wink.

"I must be honest Ren-Do, I still don't remember much, and I certainly don't remember rescuing you. But I'm sure this Starfighter I sit in was once my Masters. Tun was her name... She died when I was too cowardly too act. All I had to do was distract it, instead I ran... I ran away Ren.

I tell you this though, I'll help every one of you. You all got me off that ship, away from this New Empire, even without my memories I know we where close, now we are all that we have left of our first life."

Tok mulls over his options for a few moments and decides he'd rather not have an ancient Jedi knocking around in his consciousness, especially one who's convinced himself he can't fly and is destined to crash.

"I'd rather take may chances in the ship just in case whatever mental link you have to set up between us gets severed while he's flying," Tok says, tipping his head toward Ren-Do and noticing the distressed Dressellian. He can relate to the look of anguish and recognizes it as that of someone who has lost someone dear to them.

He strides across the hangar to Ren-Do's ship, climbs the first step of the boarding ladder and claps the Cerean on the shoulder.

"You look a little uncomfortable there, how about you hop out and let me do the flying? Put those brains to use watching whatever we're getting ourselves into and helping us figure out a strategy to stay alive."

Ren-Do looks at Tok, but doesn't move.

"You really don't want to do this," Tok tries again. "Flying, especially in combat, is better left to those that know what they're doing."

"Even with my diminished connection to the Force, I know it has put me here. I'll follow its will."

Tok tries to keep his mounting exasperation down, but it's getting difficult.

"And how do you know that it's not the 'will of the force' that's brought me here, offering to take your place in this fighter? You've said yourself that you aren't feeling the force the same way you once did."

Tok stands firm and awaits Ren-Do's response.

Ren-Do looks quizzically at the Gotal, and then smiles. "I thank you for this offer, but my place is here. In the cockpit. This is my fighter. It's coming back to me. I might not be a great pilot, but this is the will of the Force. Besides, being here is jogging my memory on several things."

When the Gotal asks him how he knows this he simply smiles, in a way a parent smiles to a child asking how the world works. "It is a feeling. That's all there is. That's all there has ever been. We must simply trust our feelings. And mine tell me this is my place."

He closes the canopy and mumbles to himself. "I do wish that Holocron had a selection of droids to fly with us. Always felt better having company. Now how do I get this thing airborne again?"

Tok gives Micc'm an "I tried" shrug.

The fool wants to get himself killed, fine, he thinks, and returns to the ghost of the Jedi.

"Well, any other ideas? I don't suppose you might have some illusory cap ship gunnery stations laying around this next vision do you?"

Tok rubs his temples, having had very close to his fill of 4,000-year-old Jedi for today.

"You know what I mean."

"I don't recall the final cruiser that we escorted having any gun placements...but I may be able to do something that will keep you from having to mentally bond with one of my former pupils...Let me meditate on this." Micc'm steps away from Tok and assumes a position of calm meditation.

Garon chuckles as he sidles up to Tok.

Jedi Masters are all like that. They like being Cryptic. I think they find it amusing. It's blasting annoying is what it is.