<font color=blue>(ooc: feel free to toss your two-cents in)


The R-41 Starchaser touched down in the sands of Tatooine. A billow of steam emanated from beneath the starfighter, dissipating into the cool night air. The silence of the evening returned, only to be broken again as the door to the fighter opened. A dark robed shadow silently descended the ramp, two points of silver gleaming beneath the robe’s hood.

The farm was dark, quiet, as the shadow glided across the sands toward the buildings. The capital city of Bestine was far to the east, no other soul for at least fifty kilometers. This isolated it was with great ease that the moisture farmer had been able to hide from the authorities.

He could hide no longer.

The shadow grew closer to the door to the main building, the door swinging open by an unseen hand. Stepping inside the door closed immediately behind.

A light illuminated in a back room, a hunchback figure walking into the front room. "Who be there?" The bulbous creature stood in the archway separating the rooms, numerous spiky horns covering its head and its elongated teeth dripping with saliva. Its large scarlet orbs widening even further as they took in the shadow.

" You have been a very naughty farmer, Mr. Grokgrok." It was a woman’s voice. She moved further into the room, keeping the Swokes Swokes farmer in front of her. " Slavery has been outlawed on Tatooine. In fact, most of the sector has abolished slavery."

" No slaves here, just Grokgrok and you." The farmer reached around the archway of the door, his hand returning with a gaderffii in his pudgy fingers. " Soon just be Grokgrok."

" You assume much." She lifted a hand from beneath the robe. The axe-like weapon tore itself from the Swokes’ fingers and soared across the room.

Grokgrok’s slimy tongue ran over his teeth and he eyed the weapon now far from him. He nervously took a step back. " You be Jedi!"

The pinpoints of silver sparked. " Hardly." Her other hand raised from under the robe, the blaster it held firing when it came level. The bolt shot across the short distance to the farmer, hitting him between the eyes. A gurgled cry rumbled from his throat, his body convulsing before falling to the floor.

" Slaves of Grokgrok," she shouted into the night. " He is dead. You are free."

Without a second consideration, she spun on her heals and made her way back to her ship. She was barely out the door when a voice called out to her.

" Wait?"

She turned as an older human man exited the main building. " What is it old man?"

" Thank you." He stood before her, his head bowed slightly.

" How many of you are there?"

" Six."

She motioned to the farm behind him. " You can risk it and continue to farm this far out, but the Tusken Raider’s will learn of you soon enough and you will not want to be here for that. I would suggest you stay here till morning, then salvage whatever is of worth from this place and take the speeder into Bestine. Sell everything and split the credits between the six of you. "

Once inside the cockpit of her ship, she removed her robe and hood. Brushing the sand from her greenish-blue hair she slumped into the pilots seat with a sigh. Across the display console a message scrolled. A crooked smile turned up her lips. "Yes RD, the slaves are now on their own."

She stretched a crick out of her neck as a second message from the Astromech droid played across the console. " No, I’m not going to stop. There are other’s that my father sold that need my help." With another sigh she started up the engine of the fighter. " Get us into Mos Esiley. I need a drink."

The Tatooine night was silent, still a whisper and as dark as could be imagined on this desolate world. Tatoo I and Tatoo II had long-since dipped behind the horizon and plunged the planetoid into a suffocating darkness. As far as the eye could see, darkness reigned supreme, being broken by no sound or light.

That does not mean, however, that there was no life here. Far to the contrary, infact.

The lights and fires of the Tusken Raiders’ camp had been put out by sand and dust hours before, just after sunset. Their camp was small, but managed to easily hold twenty or so Raiders’ and their beasts. Most were sleeping at this hour, although a few select individuals had kept themselves awake to stand watch, and now stood motionless, facing down the blackness with weapons at the ready for any unseen threat that may choose to attack them under cover of darkness.

They expected, of course, to have confrontations in the night, which was of course why guards had been posted at the perimeter.

They had not, it was now obvious, expected the sort of company that was now headed their way.

One Raider sentry, posted on the northern border of the camp, suddenly raised his head from the droop it had found itself in. He strained his ears, and found that where once a few moments ago there was utter silence, now a slow but steady hum travelled to his ears across the Dune Sea.

It was indistinguishable at first, so he turned quickly and half-growled to one of the other sentries standing close to him. That one, too, confirmed that he could hear the sound, but denied he knew what it meant.

The hum had now turned to whine, annoying at best, and the decision was quickly made to alert the camp and make battle ready.

Roars and grunts were now passing around the camp, as the others were shaken and kicked awake; gaffi sticks coming swiftly to hand as the whole camp mobilised to the north.

Most of the Sand People mounted their banthas, whilst some stayed with their own two feet planted firmly on the ground.

The whine was steadily getting louder, and just as the whole camp came to the fore, they were upon them.

----------

The modified Interceptors were fast, much faster than the Tusken’s.

The squadron arrived quickly, pairing off into two flights and taking up wingmen when they were only a klick off the camp. the first wave devastated the Tusken camp, ripping tents and Raiders alike to shreds with their laser blasts.

The speed and ferocity of the Interceptors surprised the Tuskens to the point of panic, and in the disorganised mess, the second wave made short work of all survivors that it’s predecessor had left behind.

The camp was completely inflamed by the time the last Interceptor had set down and it’s pilot clambered skilfully out of the cockpit. Six minutes after the first Tusken had been alerted to the threat that, at the time, they didn’t know existed, it was all over.

The pilots checked the wreckage tentatively for any survivors, but found none, to their delight.

[[Sloppy.]]

That snapped them to attention in an instant. The word had appeared in all of their heads at the same time, but had not come from their comm.’s. More so, it had simply manifested itself inside their heads, and the unseen command to come to attention had been transmitted with it.

In the distance, a hum turned itself into a whine, as another number of Interceptors approached.

[[Form up.]]

The pilots didn’t need telling twice. They instantly ran to the northern borders of the fire and lined up in two flights; their designated flying groups.

Three Interceptors could now be seen approaching much faster than the previous had, flying in perfect formation and reflecting the firelight in their forward viewports. Their dagger-like wings stretched out in front, lancing through the air menacingly toward the camp and waiting pilots.

Before they knew it, the pilots became the Tuskens, as their fellow Interceptors came bearing down on them. The flying beasts made one swift pass, then came around and landed directly in front of the waiting pilots.

[[That took too long. Don’t let it happen again, Captain.]] The voice was directed only to one of the pilots now, Captain Huzz, who stood at the front of the grounded squadron.

“It won’t, mi’lord,” he spoke loudly into the darkness, knowing that the other could ‘hear’ his voice.

[[Make sure of that, Captain.]]

“Yes, mi’lord.”

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> I need to train these pilots more. They bend too easily to my will, they are too conforming... maybe a new batch...?<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

This thought was the leaders own, and it came from the centre-most Interceptor, which had been visibly modified.

The hatch popped on the two escort TIE’s, but a the centre one did not make any visible signs of moving. The night had suddenly become very still, and the pilots could tell that their Lord, Darth Talus, had just discovered something. They all had a permanent contact with their Lord, and they felt his concentration.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> That was... odd. A force presence?<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

“Mi’lord?” The rightmost escort pilot asked into the night, a note of question in his voice.

[[Get back in. Follow me.]] The response was immediate, as Talus made up his mind. [[The rest of you, return to the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Carrion<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->.]]

With that, the lead Interceptor’s repulsors kicked in, and the escorts had to hurry to catch up as it sped away into the night with almost no warning.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Another Force user... here?<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> Talus mused in the confines of his cockpit. He was sure of it now, where it had been just a nagging in the back of his mind before, whilst the raid was taking place. There was no question of what to do now.

Of course, he had to investigate.

<font color=blue>Even at the late hour, the Cantina was busy. Taking the few steps into the main room, Terolyn felt the eyes of the other patrons on her. Ignoring them she moved to the bar, resting her hands on its dirty surface. The human bar tender had his back to her, only turning when she cleared her throat.

" A shot of your strongest, and a Zygerrian wine." He raised a bushy eyebrow at her, taking in her petite stature, causing her to sneer. " I can handle whatever you got, so just get me my drinks." He shrugged, and without a word went about his work.

Closing her eyes, she rubbed her forehead. The headache was steadily getting worse, as it did every time. As though her body was trying to tell her what she was doing was wrong. Frell, she knew it was wrong. She hated the taste killing left in her mouth, at the blood that she knew stained her hands. How many dozens had she murdered? Her only comfort came with the knowledge that countless others were now free because of those deaths. But even that was bitter sweet.

Her drinks were placed before her, and with a subtle wave of her hand the bartender left her without payment. A stabbing pain shot through her head, and wincing she quaffed the shot of black liquid. The fluid burned her throat as she swallowed, stealing the breath from her lungs. Coughing, her headache momentarily forgotten, she sat herself on a stool.

How many had it been now? Thirty? Fifty? She had stopped counting after that husband and wife on Elshandrau Pica. Newly weds. She hadn’t known about the baby in the upstairs room when she entered the apartment. Not until it was over, the couple laying in their own blood, did she hear the infant’s cries.

Her headache was back.

Pushing the untouched wine away, she rose from the seat and hurried out of the bar. The crisp night air did nothing to relieve her of the pain that was increasing with every passing moment. She new oblivion was her only reprieve. Staggering through the darkened streets she made her way toward the docking ports. Her ship was there, and there along with it was the oblivion she needed.

Nearly blinded by the pain, she found her ship. The astromech droid opened the hatch for her as she neared, allowing her to stumble up the ramp. After years of the same thing, the droid darkened the interior of the ship and sealed the hatch behind her when she collapsed on the deck.

In the welcomed dark, she crawled her way to the medkit on the wall. Pulling it open she grabbed a hypospray and injected the drug into her left arm. Almost instantly the sedative numbed her system. The hypospray fell from her hand and her breathing slowed to a regular rhythm.

" Make a note RD," her speech slurred as she began her descent into nothingness. " Restock the medkit before we leave Tatooine."

For many minutes, they flew on in silence. The Interceptors, the three of them.

One, the centre-most, carried the Dark Lord Talus, hybrid monster bred in a lab on the planet of his own name. Warped and twisted Sith, commander of the ImpStar Deuce <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Carrion<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->, and, if he was to be believed, heir to the galaxy - among other things.

The men travelling with him, Hyuuk and Uraak, were two of his most trusted subjects, and held the status of his personal bodyguards for their dedication. They were taken into Talus’ confidence daily, and trusted with seeing his most secret plans. Of course, they were equipped with internal suicide devices, to be activated if ever they were caught. Talus trusted their minds, but he knew that even the best could be broken.

The only person above them in Talus’ militia, for obvious reason, was Captain Kly Nec, commander of the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Carrion<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> when Talus was away from it - as he was now.

Nec was, however, like all other men enlisted under Talus, a clone. He was the first one Talus had grown, in a project that took him over ten years to complete: crewing the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Carrion<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->.

All of Talus’ men were loyal, for he was their creator.

Without him, they would never have been.

That is why, he chose to take Hyuuk and Uraak into his confidence now. That was why, he told them what he had learnt.

Talus always kept a Force link open to his most trusted men, namely Nec, Hyuuk and Uraak. It was much the same to the one the late Emperor had had with Mara Jade, when she had been in his service. He knew their thoughts, and they knew those that he was willing to share with them.

[[Nec, Hammeric squadron is incoming. The training was sloppy, give them ten hours of drill and maintenance, then send them to bed. No dinner.]] Even over the vast space that separated them, Talus could still speak directly to Nec on the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Carrion<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->, holding orbit around the planet Ohann in the Tatoo system. It was some distance away, but all of the Interceptors in Talus’ employ were heavily modified, boasting shields and a hyperdrive at the expense of speed.

[[Understood, Lord.]] Nec’s reply came back instantly - because he thought it - crystal clear in Talus’ mind.

Next, Talus turned his attention to his most loyal followers, filling them in on the situation.

[[Hyuuk, Uraak, I have felt a presence tonight... one that I have not felt before at all.]] The men knew better than to interrupt their Lord whilst he was giving them information, and they could sense from his thoughts that there was more to come, even though he had paused.

[[We are going to investigate... Nec, dispatch the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Klakkon<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->. Send it to Tatooine high-orbit.]]

[[Understood, Lord.]]

There was a pause again, as Talus thought about what he was doing, and how he would contact this Force sensitive person. He did not feel that they would be able to best him in a fight, even though he did not wield a lightsabre. He did, however, have his Elite, and they were well trained.

No, everything would be safe for him, and he didn’t mind risking a few things anyway, if it meant contacting a possible ally... or enemy.

Outside, the noise of the TIE’s swept the landscape, and as the three came up on the borders of what was evidently a city, Talus slowed his fighter. It was specially designed to his specifications, and required no breathing apparatus to enclose him. His Elite had Interceptors like that as well, but the pilots in his squadrons did not, although their fighters were modified.

Closing his eyes, Talus tapped into his inner feelings. It was time to be more precise in his search, and that would require a bit of concentration.

He searched his mind, and allowed the anger from the horrific attack on the Tusken camp to fuel him. Extending his mind out over the city, he could suddenly feel the presence of the other more vividly. Just for an instant, though, for it was gone as soon as it appeared.

Talus growled, the first sound he had made that day, and picked reluctantly at his scaly, lizard-like head. The Interceptor had been specially designed to accommodate him, even his tail, which swished round his back and curled up on his lap for flight.

Cranking up the speed slightly, he moved his ship forward, zoning in on where he had last sensed the Force signature.

<font color=blue>[i]The Astromech droid knew only one thought: Protect its pilot.

RD knew nothing of any ships approaching the area, it knew only that its pilot - its friend? - was ill yet again and would sleep for many hours. The suns would be up long before she was, but that did not matter. It would keep the hatch sealed, the temperature warm and comfortable. No one would get near the Dawning Night, it would see to that.

It would protect its pilot.

<!--EZCODE HTML START--> <font color="gray"><!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Silly thing, a conscience.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->, thought Oman as he watched the rather pushy woman enter the bar, her hands ever so slightly shaking, as if in a nervous state of anxiety.

The woman had downed a strong drink (or so Oman judged by the type of container it was poured in) and suddenly pushed off her stool in an effort to escape.

As she walked past, he saw her grimace as in pain.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Something weighs heavily on hers.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


Before she left, he caught a scent, faint but unmistakeable.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Moisture Farmer?<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


He smiled as his old training on Onderon was finally making itself useful, albeit for something rather mundane.


But Oman had time on his hands. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Frell, that's all I have..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


He had no binding mission to complete, no outstanding cause to undertake, nor injustice to correct. He was just plain, simple Oman.


The bartender had finally drawn his attantion back to the area where the woman had stayed and the look on his face told Oman that he wasn't happy.

Oman grinned as the bartender called two large friends over and began describing the woman (at least that is what Oman thought seeing the bartender's hand extended to show a reasonable approximation of the woman's height).


"Good looks only get's you a repreive sometimes..but it's hardly a bankable investment when dealing this crowd." he murmured to himself.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Me thinks this woman took too much for granted.. But she was troubled. So the lapse was forgiveable.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


He walked over to the bar, sat down at the woman's previous stool and picked up the untouched wine.

The bartender was over in a flash.

"Pay first!" he hissed.

"Of course, Bronk. You don't think I would leave you high and dry would you?" Oman tossed the bartender a few coins.

"Names not Bronk..and too much money.."

"Tut Tut, no thanks are necessary. I am paying for that drink the poor woman seemed to forget and for that bottle of wine behind you." He suddenly pointed, "That one...good year."


"Moisture low that year.." bartender said, "Girl yours?"


"Well I suppose 'good' is a relative term..." and Oman leaned forward, "Do you think I would be paying for her drink if she was my woman? If she was my woman, she'd be buying me wine.."


Oman's eyes danced with humor as the alien actually stopped to think about it.


"Call off your goons, Bronk."


The bartender caught another coin Oman had tossed his way and suddenly, spoke a few gutteral alien remarks into a personal communicator.


As Oman walked out the bartender called, "She's in Bay 34."

Oman merely turned and smiled, "I figured she be in that area, " and before he turned around, "that's where you park if you're on a budget."


Oman stepped out into the Tantooine air and felt the dryness on his skin. Sand particles brushed against him as he made his way down an alley carrying his bottle of wine.

Strangely, the whine of ships were carried along the air.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Call me a Sith, but they sound like TIE's..

Haven't seen one of those in...in... well.. in a long while.


Damned noisy machines.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


He found an over turned chair and picked it up, setting it across the opening that led into Bay 34. In the morning the market would open and so finding a suitable table nearby, he propped his feet up on it and began to sip his wine.

He set the bottled down against his chair.


The night would be cold, but the alignment of the buildings blocked a great deal of sand that would otherwise be stingying his skin.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Not to mention, be getting into my drink..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


The chair was propped back and his eyes glanced upward.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> My..my the stars are bright tonight... and tonight would be perfect were it not for that blasted TIE somewhere out there!<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--></font><!--EZCODE HTML END-->

Oman did not have long to wait, thankfully for him, as it was not long after he had half drained his glass, that the TIE’s made one final, low pass, and then cut their engines out suddenly and fell from the sky. Not that Oman could have seen them, of course, but he knew that they were no longer flying.

This would have made it a ‘perfect night’, as Oman had put it to himself, if it were not for the proximity that the TIE’s had to him when their engines stopped.

Now, he knew, there were at least a pair of fighter jocks roaming this part of town, and he didn’t feel like being disturbed at this hour, especially since he’d just downed some wine, and, more importantly, had a good bottle left to go.

But like he’d said before, ‘good’ was a relative term... as was ‘perfect’.

----------

Not more than a half kilometre south-east of bay 32, the three TIE Interceptors had set down. It was not a docking bay that Talus had chosen to stow his ships in, though, but rather the roof of a repair shop. It was closed at this hour, and Talus guessed that he and his Elite would be back before the owner was.

Talus was the last of the three to kill his engines, letting the singular whine ring out over the rooftops on it’s own, for no other reason than personal satisfaction. Finding another Force sensitive here was a stroke of luck indeed, weather or not they chose to join or help him.

After a few seconds, Talus cut all power to his TIE, and popped the hatch to let fresh air seep into the cockpit while the stale was released in an almost inaudible <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> hiss<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->.

Not surprisingly, Hyuuk and Uraak had already locked down their TIE’s and drawn blasters, fanning out without a word to perform a short reconnaissance mission. Their training was belayed, however, by a single thought from Talus, who at this time did not care for such formalities, and only desired to do what he had come here to do.

Talus’ hatch was now fully open, and out of the dark depths of the cockpit, two scaly, clawed hands emerged. They placed themselves on either side of the opening, and pushed ever so slightly. Next, Talus’ bald, equally scaly head rose up through the hole. He was a skinny being, granted, but the light glinting in his otherwise dull yellowy orange eyes showed that he was proud, and that under the dark robes he wore vast muscles rippled with strength. He had short, stubby teeth lining his mouth, and only four small holes where his nose and ears were.

Talus looked around slowly, surveying the area with his eyes and mind at the same time. Seemingly satisfied, he placed all weight on his left arm, and effortlessly back-flipped out of the TIE, landing on his clawed feet, and using his long tail to balance himself.

He stood tall against the night sky backdrop, rising to almost eight feet. The only clothes he wore was a two piece robe, the top half wrapped around him and hanging down to just below his elbows at the sleeves. The bottom was the same black colour as the top, with the legs dropping just below the knees, much like shorts, but baggier and with more folds.

On his neck, there sat a small, circular metal disk. It had a speaker on the side, and served only as a translator for when Talus was unable to talk to people via the Force, as the only language his voice box was capable of producing was an incomprehensible jumble of hisses and spits.

The only really unusual thing about Talus, which would have been noticeable when he starting to walk to the edge of the roof, was that his feet made a double clicking sound when they touched the roof. This was because, even though he had five toes, or claws, two of them were inverted, providing an easy way to grasp branches and pipes. This proved annoying sometimes, when Talus had to sneak, but in those situations he could simply raise his claws and walk only on the soles on his feet.

Tail swishing impatiently back and forth, Talus strode over to the edge, looking out over the city again. Hyuuk and Uraak fell into step a metre behind, taking care to give their Lord room to manoeuvre.

Talus took a deep breath, and searched the city once more, desperately seeking out the presence he had felt earlier.

Still, nothing.

Enraged, Talus reached down to his belt, pulling out the single blade he had been carrying for over fifteen years. He had made it himself, all that time ago, and it had survived what seemed an eternity in his service.

The blade did not shine in the starlight, but Talus knew that it was still equally sharp. Looking at it, he was enriched with a new energy, and leapt down from the rooftop suddenly.

Hyuuk and Uraak followed instantly, not hesitating to obey the wishes of their Lord, as he raced off into the night.

<font color=blue>It was a sudden sense of urgency the brought her out of the darkness, immediately followed by a prickling at the nape of her neck. Forcing her eyes opened, she winced at the dim light within the ship. Her head throbbed with pain still, her body unresponsive, but something was... off. Something wasn’t right.

Her muscled still weak from the sedative, it took a few minutes for Terolyn to claw her way to her feet. She moved into the cockpit using the walls for support, barely making it to the pilot’s seat before her legs gave way beneath her. Running both hands through her turquoise locks she blinked a few times in an effort to clear her mind.

She swiveled the chair, willing her eyes to remain open and her mind focussed. " Give me a reading of what’s out there, RD. 100 meter radius."

It took but a moment for the result of the scan to scroll across the console.

Terolyn stared out of main window her eyes fixed on the darkened city outside. RD said there was no one out there within a hundred meters. " Then why am I still conscious," she muttered to herself.

Standing quickly, and nearly passing out from the sudden rush of blood from her head, she moved once again to the back half of the ship. She lifted a dark blue, leather-like long coat from a hook on the wall and slipped in on. " Get us ready for flight, RD," she said as she strapped on her blaster and holster belt. " One sweep of the area then we’re out of here."

Her hand slapped the wall next to the hatch, the button there depressing beneath her skin. The hatch hissed open and the ramp descended. " This is insane, Terolyn," she stepped onto the ramp the dark night enveloping her.

But something was out there, and she could feel it.</FONT>

<!--EZCODE HTML START--> <font color="gray">


Oman sipped on his wine as the sounds of the TIEs disappeared...rather abruptly.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Too abruptly..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> he thought.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> They didn't just fade away, as if flying out of range... they must have landed...though where?<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


A small creature scampered down the road as if frightened of something and ran through the opening that was Bay 34.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> If one wanted to call it such..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

It was no more than a small field outside the city...large enough for personal transports..

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Definitely the budgeter's choice...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

He picked up the bottle of wine resting near the leg of his chair and pulled open the top. He took out a small pouch of some powder like substance and dropped it into the bottle, dissolving rather quickly.


Then something caught his eye...dim lights being lowered.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> A ramp?<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


He leaned forward a bit not being able to make out whether a person was leaving or not..


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Too far..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


And suddenly another creature ran past..


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Whoever was coming, was getting closer..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


He stood and walked through the open archway that led out of the city and to Bay 34.


He walked straight for the transport...


Seeing a figure, he kept one hand on his bottle, and another within sight, still holding a wine glass..


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> No need to get shot because some blind person couldn't see your hand..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


Yet, he did not wish to get too close to the ship...especially when he heard guns retract.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Someone's still onboard..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


"Hello?" he called out..</font><!--EZCODE HTML END-->

<font color = blue>Terolyn started down the ramp, the light from inside the Dawning Night making it difficult to see to far ahead. Even so, she could see a shadow of a man making his way toward the ship. Something was held in his hand, and instinctively she removed the blaster from its holster.

As if reading her thoughts, RD armed the Dawning Night’s weapons.

The stranger’s voice called to her. " Hello?"

She stopped at the base of the ramp, leveling the blaster at him. "I suggest you stop where you are." Just looking at the man could tell he was not what had gotten her hackles up, yet she kept the blaster aimed at him. "Who are you?"

</font>