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


Oman turned an irritated eye to the rather gruff woman and clutched the weapon close to him.


"I'd rather keep it if it's all the same." he snapped, his fingers playing with the powercell behind the weapon



<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> "I'm sorry, did I not make myself clear?" was the woman's rather sour reply.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->



...and suddenly the gun came loose from his grasp.



He grinned.



<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Force user.... with a gun... interesting..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


His eyes raked across the ship noting the strange name: <!--EZCODE BOLD START--> Dawning Night<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->


As the woman turned her back on the 'boys' he flipped the weapon's powercell in his hand and turned away himself...and idea coming to mind.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> That powder on her landing struts is usually found on Moisture Farms... So she's recently visited a 'farm'...hmm.. Didn't strike me as a 'farmer's girl'.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


He shrugged at the implied insult and walked away....suddenly getting that prickly feeling..



..especially when that nice man's eyes flared in anger.



<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Oh yes, there's something there all right!<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->



"She's all yours.." he muttered to the man and walked away, suddenly that prickly feeling screaming out at him.


He checked his wine bottle...


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Half full...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


Putting the cap back on, he broke into a run as soon as he crossed the threshold into the city. He knew were he was going..


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> But would there be enough time? Time to do some serious evasion routines...



..just in case..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


The name of a ship being repeated over and over in his mind..


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Does the 'night' have a 'dawn'?"<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


</font><!--EZCODE HTML END-->

The man scowled at Oman, watching him intently as he turned and left.

[[You have done well, Uraak.]] Talus’ voice now filled his mind, and Uraak felt exhilarated at his Lord’s praise. [[Keep her there, do not let her leave. I will join you shortly.]]

[[Understood, Lord.]]

When he was sure that Oman was out of earshot, Uraak started to move toward the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Dawning Night<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->, being able to just see Terolyn’s feet at the top of the ramp. The ship-mounted laser panned to follow his movements, as it had done for Oman, but Uraak paid it little attention.

“You in there!” He yelled up the ramp when he reached it’s base. “Come out, we need to talk!” His voice had changed now, no longer innocent of friendly, but hard and cold. His features, also, had turned solid, a face set in stone, emotionless. Not that Terolyn could see that, of course.

<font color=blue>A shaky hand shot out when she came to the top of the ramp, grasping onto the frame of the hatch for support as a wave of dizziness passed over her. Closing her eyes and taking a steadying deep breath she stepped into the starfighter.

The sound of the hydraulics of the ship’s lasers vibrated through the hull when they were moved by the droid. The noise giving her a moment’s notice before she heard him yell.

"You in there! Come out, we need to talk!"

The change in the voice of the man in black would have been apparent to a deaf man. A chill ran up her spine as Terolyn turned to look down the ramp at him.

" Look, I don’t know who you think you are but I am done talking for one night.

Her left hand reached beneath her jacket, fingers wrapping around the butt of the blaster, while her right depressed the button for the hatch. Her eyes never left the man in black’s face as the ramp started to retract.

</font>

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



"Hey Cappy!" Oman beat on the creature's door till a light flickered on.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Come on Cappy!<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


"Wha??" came the groggy response as the door slid open and Oman had a blaster pointed at him.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> What is it with tonight and blasters? .. especially one's aimed at me?<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


"Oman?" came a suspicious whisper. "What are you doing here?"


"Sorry, Cappy, but I need your comm unit.." Oman said, pushing the blaster away with his fingers and walking into the home without being invited in.


"There's a public one you know..." the alien grumbled.


"You know how many credits it costs?"


"fffah! As if credits ever mattered to you!" the rather upset alien retorted.


"I just met the most beautiful woman in the whole galaxy..."



"Did she try to shoot you?"



Oman stopped and looked at the alien grinning. "Of course!"



"Then she's a smart girl."



Oman laughed and moved to the comm systems and the machinery flickered on, then off. The alien gave it a slap and the power came back on.


"Location: Onderon, NeuroSave Hotel Room: 434-D.." Oman called out.. and waited as the computer attempted to make the connection.


"Might take a while...The unit's pretty old.." the alien seemed to apologize and then crooked an antennae at Oman.


"So..about this pretty woman?"


"I was just yanking your antennae... I met a woman but she just grumbled and nearly shot me. A force user, though. Could be useful.."


"She tried to shoot you? Then she can't be all bad.." the alien named Cappy grumbled.


"I don't think she's bad..." then his smiled turned grim, "At least not much..but she does seem in trouble.."


"Who isn't nowadays?"


"True enough, but worth investigating don't you think?"


"You want to talk about what's worth investigating? Someone murdered a moisture farmer out on the stretch, very recently..."


"Oh yeah?" Oman asked, thinking about the powder on the Dawning Night's landing strut.


"Seems he had some slaves and they just came in...spilled the whole story...well, except

who actually did it."


"Interesting," Oman said and a rather fat alien appeared on the screen.


"General.. Remember that vacation I was promising you?"


The fat alien merely stared at Oman, a drink came into view and his head snapped back as he downed a generous amount.


He grunted.


"Time to put your wealth to use.."


The alien grunted again and flicked the transmission off.


"Friend of yours?" the homeowner spoke up.


"We're inseparable" Oman grinned.


"Obviously."



"I need a computer scrambler to get around some heavy programming?"



"For what?"



"Don't know yet.. just like to have one handy. And give me your slicer inserter..can never have too many of those."



"How about my Mandalorian genie? What that too?"



"No..but I will have your personal cutting laser, and that utility belt."


"You think I am some Sith spawned hardware store?"


"Quickly!" Oman said urgently and the alien gave him the requested items.


"Now let me sleep!"


"I'm outta here...Thanks Cappy, I'll pay you ba--"


The alien resident had already slid the door shut and Oman took off down a dark alley.


He saw a jawa roaming the alley and suddenly accosted the little guy. Shaking him, Oman asked a question with urgency and the jawa sputtered in a language Oman couldn't understand.


Then the jawa pointed and Oman was off.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> No one is around..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


He climbed over a small wall, dividing weird looking homes, by way of a shortcut.


He grinned when he saw what he was looking for.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> I knew it!<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

</font><!--EZCODE HTML END-->

Uraak growled annoyance deep in his throat, allowing his eyes to cast quickly around and take in the laser pointed at him. He took a quick step back, then forward again, testing its reflexes and speed. Unfortunately, it matched up to standards. A problem, but only a minor. No concern of his, at least now.

Behind, Uraak could hear noises. The sound of someone’s boots on the earth, and something else as well. They were moving out of the shadows, making fast pace toward him and the ship.

He didn’t have to turn to know who was there.

“Look, I don’t know who you think you are but I’m done talking for one night.” Terolyn’s reply came from inside, annoyed and obviously defiant. As she spoke, the ramp started to retract, drawing upward slowly.

“Wrong answer,” he muttered under his breath, stepping back and to the side as a flurry of movement broke out behind him. There was little noise, but he had been forewarned, and knew that the actions was coming.

It was quite the obvious though, wasn’t it.

[[You are not needed, back to the TIE’s.]] Talus’ command rang true through Uraak’s head, and he turned in time to see Hyuuk behind him, skulking back to the shadows and out of the arch on that same order.

Uraak didn’t hesitate to follow.

The ship-mounted laser, he knew, had seen none of that. All it knew was that another man had approached, and then both had left. It was entirely content in it’s artificial intelligence, informing itself that there had only been two.

Of course, the only purpose of having Uraak and Hyuuk there was to block Talus from harms way. Uraak knew that, but he still had undying confidence in his Lord’s purposes for him, as he sped back on Hyuuk’s heels toward the shop where they had left their rides.

----------

“What the..?” Terolyn uttered, drawing her blaster at the same time. She quickly aimed it at the creature that had just invaded her ship, and watched as he unravelled himself.

Talus had jumped in head-first, just making the gap in time, and rolled across the ramp to land in front of Terolyn. He sent out a message to his Elite, and then turned his attention to the woman.

“You don’t need that,” a metallic voice chimed in from his neck. His mouth had moved, only slightly, and an almost inaudible <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> hiss<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> had escaped, being translated and drowned out by the device he almost always wore.

“I will not hurt you, if you do not make me,” Talus hissed simply, taking personal pride at the look in her eyes.

He now stood full height in front of her, as the ramp clicked closed behind him, and waited for her response.

<font color=blue>Terolyn had seen it. In the moment before she woke from the sedative, she had seen the darkness of it in her mind. It was what had brought her out of oblivion, the sense of it coming and the sense of fear.

The hatch was almost closed when the thing dove in and landed at her feet. Her jaw dropped, her weapon finding its way into an unsteady hand, and she took a few steps back from the creature that stood head and shoulders above her.

She wanted to scream, but the breath caught in her lungs.

" You don’t need that." The sound of the computerized voice brought her back to the moment and instinctively her hand grasped the handle of the weapon even tighter. " I will not hurt you, if you do not make me."

She took another step away from the creature, keeping the weapon aimed at its chest. Her heat pounded against her chest and a bead of sweat fell from her forehead. Each pace she took backward, the creature followed. Always only a few feet from her.

"Why do I find that hard to believe," With her last step, she passed through the doorway to the cockpit. She glanced to the side, an idea coming to her.

" Whatever it is you want, you’re not going to get it."

The heal of her hand slammed into the control panned on the wall next to the opening. The door slid down before the lizard-like creature could move, and she leapt into the pilots seat.

"This is my ship," she muttered while her fingers flew across the console. Behind her she heard the door lock as the engine started with a high pitched whine. A matter of seconds later the Dawning Night was rising off the ground and into the atmostphere. While the ship was speeding toward space, she entered another sequence of codes and the oxygen began to be filtered out of the ship. It became harder for her to breathe, but reaching beneath the seat she pulled out a small box.

Gasping for what oxygen was left she retrieved an A99 Breather from within and situated the mouthpiece over her lips. Gulping in the gas, she leaned back in chair raising her weapon and aiming it at the door.

Just in case.

~ My ship, my rules you Son of a Rancor!~

</font>

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


On the second try the computer scrambler got it....and the internal security system was deactivated.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Not bad. Not Imperial ...but still, not bad...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

He started on the others ...and before he knew it..all three cockpits had opened.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Damn your quick fingers Oman, my boy.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


The middle craft was strangely modified and Oman didn't have time to figure it out.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Better not leave em with a vehicle..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

He brought out a cutter and it sliced through the solar panels of the interceptor.


Making quick cuts here and there to the middle modified TIE as well as the the other one to it's right, he soon moved to the the untouched fighter/interceptor and climbed up into the cockpit.


Using the slicer, he swiped the access codes from the core's own memory began to flip switches and punch buttons.


The long lamented Regional Intelligence Committee schooling on Onderon was really paying off.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Tenloss never knew what he had... such a shame..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


The craft was powering up as dust was starting to kick everywhere.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> These stupid ships make too much noise!<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


The owners, if they were nearby, could probably hear it which prompted Oman to step his activities up.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Damn.. they could probably hear the bloody thing all the way to Almania..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


Setting the half filled wine bottle near his cockpit seat, he shut down the computer links and automated targeting systems, preferring to do things the old fashioned way..


Manually..


He reached up and closed the hatch..


Grasping the controls, the vessel started to lift swaying in the wind...


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Keep steady damn it!<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


The ship moved slowly backwards and he pushed the weapons button igniting the other two ships.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Target practice makes perfect..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


He grinned as the remains of the other two TIEs sunk to the ground, their panels falling off the roof.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> It's been a while..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


The craft took off in a low flight pattern, skimming the roofs of buildings.


A tiny buzzing noise was heard to his left and a tiny light flashed.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Tracker?<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


He bashed it with his elbow stopping both the noise and light.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> I wonder how much I could get for this ship?<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

</font><!--EZCODE HTML END-->

[[Nec!]]

----------

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Cappy might take it... or Rolanor. Yes, I could get quite a good price from him. These systems...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

Oman looked around him, taking in the visible modifications as the Interceptor flew on, not deviating from it’s course.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> They’re extensive... and what’s this? A hyperdrive? This guy must’ve been rich. Either that, or he was very influential, and had some powerful friends... better ditch this quickly then, get the money and get out.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

Oman turned back forward again, and was surveying some of the finer system modifications, when a device he had taken care not to destroy lit up, diverting his attention immediately.

Proximity alarm.

The flashing and noise got annoying quickly, so he reached over and shut it off, scanning the sensors with his eyes, trying to determine where the potential threat lay.

The scanners, he found, showed it coming in hot on his tail. He couldn’t scan for a visual, due to the TIE’s limited viewport, but knew by the readings what it was.

Lambda shuttle, broadcasting codes identifying it as the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Klakkon.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Alright, time to lose myself...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

Oman reached out to the controls, placing his hand on the yoke and making a hard turn to the right. The TIE gave a slight whine of protest and...

Stayed exactly on course.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> What the frell?!<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

And then the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Klakkon<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> was on him. All attempts at evasive manoeuvring proved futile, as the TIE seemed to be actually <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> slowing down<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->. Too late, Oman realised what was going on.

He hastily reached out, pulling his slicing gear into position. The <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Klakkon<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> was closing fast. In fifteen seconds it would be within firing range.

He had to be faster than that.

The slice took five seconds. Finding the correct codes, four and a half. So far so good. His hands raced over the controls, trying to bring them back under his power. Altering codes, three seconds.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Come on.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

<!--EZCODE BOLD START--> WARNING: Two seconds to intercept!<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->

...And it was his!

Pulling out just in time, Oman was able to see the first shot speed off to his side, harmlessly missing the stolen Interceptor by a half a metre.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Yes!<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

The TIE was now rising, rising, headed out for space.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> If I can make the jump, I might be able to get away...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

No such luck, though. The <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Klakkon<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> still had a data feed on the TIE, and was able to start to manoeuvre to match Oman’s course change before his systems had even registered it.

In a short, horrible moment, Oman saw that his pursuer was going to intercept him if he stayed on this heading. The only option open to him now was...

With a quick swoop, he pushed the yoke forward and dove back toward the desert-planet’s surface. The pair were now outside the city borders, and all that spread before Oman’s eyes was a vast emptiness, endless and unforgiving.

He levelled off at about ten metres, skimming the surface and dipping slightly lower as the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Klakkon<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> appeared above him. His slice beeped, indicating it had found the data feed. Oman grinned, giving the order to cut it.

In that moment of hesitation, though, the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Klakkon<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> fired. It had been saving energy, lining up for a perfect shot. It now had it, and took the opportunity.

Alarms blared through the unshielded cockpit as Oman’s TIE was hit. It spun suddenly, out of his control. Through the viewport, and to Oman’s dismay, he could see the left solar wing panel flying off in a direction other than his.

Looking forward once more, he saw the ground rushing up to meet him, or rather, his rushing down to meet the ground.

The TIE spun, bumped, and Oman remembered no more.

----------

[[Lord.]] Hyuuk’s urgency filled his voice, and Talus’ mind, as the Sith Lord surveyed his rapidly oxygen depleting surroundings.

[[Report.]] The new lack of breathable air did not enter itself into Talus’ mind-speak, as it would have if he had been talking directly to Hyuuk, but he could not give his full concentration to the conversation, and this gave Hyuuk all the information he desired.

[[Lord, your and Uraak’s Interceptor have been destroyed, and mine is gone. We can hear and see it, though. It is flying east, away from the city. Uraak is signalling the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Klakkon<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> to intercept.]]

If Talus could have conveyed a believable growl through the Force, he would have done so now. Anger filled him, and he slammed his hand into the door leading to the cockpit, hard.

[[Kill whoever is responsible, Elite. Do not fail.]] The order from Talus was simple, dripping with hate and fury, and did not require an answer, Hyuuk knew.

Turning, Hyuuk surveyed the destroyed TIE’s once more, laughing inwardly at the thief’s stupidity.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> He will live no more.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

With that single purpose in mind, he signalled quickly to Uraak, and the pair set off quietly from the rooftop where the TIE’s still smouldered, in search of some fast transport.

----------

Back on the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Dawning Night<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->, Talus was having extreme difficulty controlling himself.

That was not necessarily a bad thing, however...

Those TIE’s had been a gift! A gift, to the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> true<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> Dark Lord of the Sith! Granted, he had had them heavily modified, and added several features of his own, but they were still a gift.

Someone tonight was going to bleed for this, he swore.

For the mean time, though, the door to the cockpit served as a welcome recipient to his anger. After beating it in for about half a minute, Talus suddenly realised that his air supply was almost completely diminished.

He took a moment to compose himself, then. Not to dissolve the anger, but to channel it, reaching out, he placed his palm against the door, and concentrating ferociously, moved it aside.

The hand, as well as the door.

Metal tore from metal, and a blaster bolt flickered past his head as the door was ripped completely away. He stumbled into the cockpit, then, staggering. Part from oxygen depletion, part from anger, and part from hitting his head on the mangled doorframe. Being almost eight feet had it’s pros and cons, on a good day.

Another blaster bolt sizzled out at him, but Talus’ reactions had been honed over years to react to this kind of situation. Without thinking, he reached up his hand, bared his teeth, and caught the bolt square on the palm, cushioning the impact with the Force, and using what little pain he felt to fuel his anger and empower him further.

Turning, he panned his eyes menacingly onto the woman at the controls, and advanced slowly toward her.

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



Oman slowly opened his eyes and saw that the large plexiglass front he was facing was covered with dust, though not really opaque.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Loose sand..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->



A shadow fell over the downed fighter and Oman's eyes tracked the shadow as it circled above. He flipped pulled a lever on each side of the cockpit which, if he was in flight, would have ejected the solar panels on each side. Now, they simply released with a clicking noise.


The Klakkon was starting to descend..


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Uh oh.. Dammit, and I didn't even get a chance to sell it!<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->



With the presence of a shuttle, Oman knew is troubles just multiplied. He had noticed the hyperdrive before but thought nothing of it, for many travel the galaxy in single fighter craft.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Sloppy Oman.. very sloppy..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


He moved his limbs around some more to check if anything was broken and only found numerous bruises and a few scrapes.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> ..which hurt more usually..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


His hand went to the side of the seat, and surprisingly, secured in it's little nitch was his half filled bottle of wine (though the neck was cracked).

His throat burned for a drink, but that wouldn't be a good idea about now.


He drew out a tiny locket that he kept for luck around his neck and a tiny hologram of a naked Mandalorian female appeared. He blew it a kiss for his good fortune.. and switched it off.


He reached up, propped open the hatch and climbed out (the cockpit wobbling a bit since it wasn't connected to the solar panel embedded into the sand). The Klakkon was landing extremely close on a dune (it's unloading hatch facing the wrecked fighter) and Oman slid down the sphere of the interceptor as if hiding behind the damaged ship from the shuttle.


But he didn't move.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Those fools! They are more interested in me than they are in their surroundings.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


His hand tightened on the bottle's neck and he lightly shook it.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Almost there..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


Oman had spent time here on Tatooine and knew a little bit more about the desert than these spaced invaders.


The shuttle touched down and the engines cut off. Sand was flying everywhere and Oman waited with impatience, his body hurting a bit from the crash.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Wait!<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


Suddenly the full weight of the shuttle caused it to begin to sink and the pilot struggled to restart his engines.

The hatch opened to reveal troopers getting ready to jump out and Oman suddenly sprang from his hiding place running to the shuttle and with all his might hurled the wine bottle.


Most of the troopers were struggling to maintain their composure as the shuttle was sinking into the sand.

One noticed the bottle hurtling toward them and got off a shot..shattering the bottle, scattering the liquid inside all over the people scrambling to get out amid the sinking.


Unfortunately, the blaster shot also ignited the liquid... Oman's powder had mixed well with the extremely potent wine making the drink extremely flammable. Which was why he only drank what he had in his wine glass so nicely provided by the angry female.


The hatch was covered in fire as people scrambled out burning.


Oman ran back to the ship and with as much strength as he could muster, started to turn the spherical cockpit making sure the plexiglass window was facing the shuttle's position.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> If this think was square, I'd never be able to do this..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->, he grunted.


As people flayed about, the engines finally caught on and the sinking shuttle started to raise itself, slowly.. the sand making the action difficult.


Oman scrambled back up into the cockpit and gritting his teeth in pain as he nearly fell back into the seat, he grasped the stick of the fighter and pulled the trigger. If the TIE still had both solar panels he wouldn't have been able to fire using line of sight but he had lost that panel with the Klakkon's first shots..


Exhausting what power was still in the modified TIE fighter, laser shots raked across the shuttle, tearing into the open hatch and shattering a side wing.


The Klakkon fell back down as the pilot was killed in the interior equipment explosions.


The TIE fell silent and Oman sighed, wiping the sweat from his scrapped brow.


Slowly climbing out, he saw the shuttles inhabitants scattered... well, pieces of them at any rate.


After making sure, no one was alive, he stayed away from the shuttle as it started to sink again..but it didn't go completely in.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> It's a new sinkhole..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


He got as close to the area as possible picking up anything he could use. He found a scorched military pack, a few rations (though nothing edible) so he dumped those, and two working blasters. He pulled out his slicer and it's memory chip as well as his other gadgets from the cockpit.

He put the blasters into the pack and, while putting away his computer scrambler and slicer divice in his utility belt, he took out a cutter and was soon cutting the remaining solar panel on the fighter.

The outer material came off quickly enough and he pulled the rather flexible, almost rubbery material that made up the middle composition of the solar wing.

The outer material was transparent so the rubbery material (the actual solar collector) could harness the energies needed to keep the ship's power generator going.


The seemingly rubbery sheets pulled out easy enough and he folded them up and put them into the pack.


His sweat was starting to sting his scraps and he growled in irritation. An hour before he was counting his credits for a lucrative sale and now he was getting ready to cross a damned hot desert.



<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> complain...complain...complain..


The shuttle's friends would be looking for them soon...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


He glanced at the sun...


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> The desert composition here usually can mask scans for people... which is why smugglers love Tatooine..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


He grinned for small favors and headed off in a direction the sand covering his tracts as he went..



<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Too damned windy..



I look like a sand person..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


</font><!--EZCODE HTML END-->

<font color=blue>She flinched every time he pounded against the door, fearful that the door would give way beneath the torrent of blows. Yet after a moment it stopped and all was silent. Relaxing in the chair, thinking that Talus had succumbed to the lack of air, Terolyn started to lower her weapons when she felt a strange surge around her.

An instant later the door was torn out of the opening. Jerking the blaster up again, she squeezed off a round missing him as he stepped into the cockpit.

~ A Sith!~ Realization hit her the same moment he practically absorbed her second shot. ~Oh @#%$!~

Frantically scrambling over the back of the chair she fired three more bolts at him in rapid succession, each completely missing him. Her back bumped against the console.

She was cornered.

In all the year of self-training, she had never attempted to move another sentient being utilizing the force. Yet in her current situation, trapped and with a pissed off Sith only a few feet away, she had no other option. Using the panic and fear she felt she focussed on the enraged eyes of the creature. Gesturing with her arm for direction she pushed what energy she could draw from within, toward him.

A rush of nausea accompanied the excruciating pain in her head and she did not see him flying back into the ships bulkhead. Darkness edged into the corner of her vision, threatening to consume her. She felt herself falling and grabbed onto the arm of the pilots char, only falling to her knees.

Looking through a haze that suddenly clouded her sight she watched Talus rise to its feet.

Her heart sank.

~Ohshitohshitohsthit…~



</font>