Captain Kuge shifted his weight as the freighter moved slowly into the gap of the DragonClaw's portside toward the hangar bay. Tractor beams took hold, guiding the ship inside where magnetic clamps locked the ship in place.

"Ship has now docked, Captain," a bridge officer announced.

"Send an escort to meet our guest. Have a holding room ready," he ordered. "I want no surprises. Make sure our men are well-armed. It may be a trap," he added with caution. In the meantime, his officers continued to debate the action in the background, searching for a way to resolve the situation. A message had been dispatched to Kessel, relaying the incident.

He turned slightly as his subcommander in this present enterprise arrived on the bridge and came up to stand beside him. "Outward scans have shown that the ship appears to be unarmed, and bioscans indicate only one life-form reading."

Kuge nodded. "Very well. Seems we may just intercepted a stray traveler."

"Or a possible diplomat," his subcommander added. Captain Kuge said nothing. Kessel was indeed an odd choice for an action of this sort, a planet at the edge of the galaxy, not particularly important in the scheme of things.

Kuge hesitated a moment longer, thinking the matter through, then said to his officer, "Proceed to the hangar bay. Find out about our visitor." The officer snapped a salute and proceeded to the turbolift of the DragonClaw.

Subcommander Tage passed downward through the bowels of the ship to the main hangar bay, waited for the light to turn green, and watched as the doors hissed open to reveal the large landing bay with the freighter centered upon it. Several death infantry soldiers had surrounded the ship as the landing ramp lowered and they held their weapons at bay.

Tage was flanked by two soldiers as he watched the figure descend. An odd fellow, alien in nature, stopped at the foot of the ramp and blinked. The subcommander approached him cautiously, hands folded behind his back.

"I am Subcommander Tage of the Tion DragonClaw <I>Solice</I> of the Black Dragon Empire," he announced. "Who are you-- and why are you here? What is your purpose crossing into our Imperium's space?"

Stepping down the gangplank of his battered craft, Lahout blinked as he noticed how many people were present to greet him. Obvioulsy many of them were mere guards, but indeed, their presence suggested to the Mar'hute that these people were more akin to captors than hosts. He turned his attention to a man who was obviously a person of rank, and replied to his question.

"My name is Lahout," replied the Seeker. "I come here in search of ... a man. My deepest and most sincere apologies if I have encroached upon the customs and regulations of your people, I am ignorant in the ways of the many diverse customs of this galaxy.

Lahout examined the man with an intense look. The black pupils and iris' of his eyes resized slightly as they adjusted to the lighting in this hangar bay, confirming the fact that he was not human. As if it could have been surmised that he was, given his rough gray skin.

"In all truth," he continued, "I have seen so many different cultures and peoples in the few short months that I have been on this ... quest if you may, that it has become difficult for me to remember them all, and all the advice given me by various spacers."

Not entirely the truth, but Lahout had learned long ago that a slight lie or stretch of the truth was almost considered mandatory amongst humans. The full truth often made you look incompetent or a fool, while a slight cover-up made you appear to be 'one of the guys'. It was a habit he hoped he did not retain once this quest for the Alm'pu'ti was over.

He couldn't help but give a relieved sigh as he stepped onto the docking bay, pausing to give the familiar hull of The Hope a good long glance over as he waited for the rest of the unit behind him to unload, the men exiting the shuttle with military precision that was expected of them even though they were out of their gear. All of the durasteel gave him a sense of home, even though he had never thought of it that way. But then, being months away from anything familiar probably would do that to a person.

Ever since Tholatin fell, he had been pretty much out of contact with Kamon or anyone from the planet. His last orders had been to gather what remained of the Royal Phalanx Guard Corps and that was what he had been scrambling around the systems doing. The men that dispersed before him was all that he could muster alone. They were few in number, but they were of the highest calibur and Kenshin trusted every one of them. They hadn't given him reason not to yet.

Walking up to one of the ensigns checking the data of the gathered troop, he pulled the young man a pace away from the bustle of the others. "Can you get me Lieutenant Sterling?" He asked in a tired tone. The boy just gave him a puzzled look. The man before him was dressed like the other men and yet he asked for the leader of the Prince's personal guard.

"I'm sorry sir, but the Lieutenant is a busy man and if you'd like to see him you'll have to make an appointment..." The boy trailed off, hoping that the dark haired man before him would understand.

Kenshin couldn't help but give a quiet chuckle as he tiredly pulled out his ID card and handed it to the ensign. Though his hair was longer and a beard now sprouted from his chin, it was unmistakably him in the photo. "I understand he may be a busy man, but I really think he'd like to see me."

Glancing up from the card, the ensign gave him a quick understanding look before handing it back to him. "Yes sir. Right this way sir." And he was swiftly off, knowing well that Kenshin wouldn't want to waste time.

The ID card had told the boy that he was an RPGC General as well as Captain of the personal Guard. Kenshin wasn't sure if there was enough RPGC left for him to be a General, but he knew that the Prince's personal Guard were still around somewhere, even though the Prince himself was not. He hadn't sensed Kamon's presence when he had arrived and this worried him. And though he wanted to go off to look for him, there was much more to do here. So much more that he didn't know where to start.

"Lieutenant Sterling sir." The ensign's voice startled Kenshin from his reverie and brought him back to the current situation. They stood in an office. "A certain General Katarn is here to see you." The young Jedi inwardly flinched at the title but before he could say something the boy had left.

"So how did it go, Captain." The Lieutenant said with one of the biggest grins Kenshin had ever seen him give. "Not bad, Brand. Not bad at all. I have to say that there wasn't much left to summon on, but we got some men." He managed to stifle a yawn as he tossed a datacard onto Brand's desk. "Those are the stats."

Brand took it into his hand and began to scan it. "I'm guessing that the Prince did not, by some miracle, come back with your group?" Kenshin could tell that he was worried, but was trying hard not to show it. Brand was never much for the idea of royalty, but he had never been treated badly by Kamon and his family.

"No." Kenshin replied quietly. "How's the girl been?" He hadn't seen Amarie in what seemed like ages. And seeing that Kamon as well as Master Cole was gone, he felt that she was becoming another one of his responsibilities, if not the most important one.

"That's Princess to you. She's been good." Brand said absentmindedly. "You probably should check on her."

Kenshin decided that he didn't really seem to know. "Yeah. I guess I should." Probably do more than just check on her. She didn't need just another bodyguard. She probably needed guidance. Or maybe just a friend. Politics, he decided, was a dangerous and lonely game.

Seeing that Brand was going to get back to work, he decided he should do so too. He had much catching up to do with the current events of the system and had to get an update on what men he had left to work with. Giving his friend a nod, he dismissed himself from his presence and wandered off, his mind wondering about how Kamon and Master Cole were doing. He was sure he wasn't the only one that missed them. The people as a whole needed leadership and Kenshin had to admit that was not something he could find easily. In another person as well as himself.

"Ah yes, the moon," Metyr Pervayan murmured, scratching his neatly trimmed beard, " Such a celestial body of drawing attention to herself. As to their true intentions, we will not truly know till they are close enough to us to unlock their mysteries."

Amarie nodded, the small smile remaining upon her lips, turning to head back the cooridor, the movement drawing her advisors behind her. It had been a long tiring day for the young princess. Despite the fact that her father was hidden from her, the advisor's kind words helped find her a sense of purpose, reasuring enough that they may defeat the emptiness long enough so she could sleep. She already had enough worries without wondering how much strength she could muster up to keep standing during her negotiations with the representative here.

Entering the hangar bay, Amarie stopped, frozen still for a moment as something caught her attention, gazing about the large exapance that seemed to swallow the people that filled the space with activity.

"Someone has arrived," Amarie managed to murmur, her voice distant, sounding as if it were a mere whisper," Someone I have not seen in quite some time."

Continuing to cross the hangar to her own ship, her gentle fingers caressed The Hope's skin, as if reaquainting herself with the living being that connected with both Amarie and her father, barely noticing the parting of her advisors, whom had dwellling within the Bim city, and had only escorted her as far as her own ship for safety reasons.

"Father, help me....I don't know what I'm doing. Why can't you be here when I need you?"

"A quest?" Subcommander Tage repeated, weighing the question. The man standing in front of the Mar'hute was tall and thin, with unkempt gray hair and a trimmed beard that was pointed slightly downward. He was dressed in black knee-high boots with black tunic and trousers, with glittering red rank insignias on his left breast. His face was dark and lined and regal to the point of arrogance as he studied the gray alien, his eyes holding a mixture of curiousity and disdain. "For a man?" he said, the same mixture in his voice. "And you believe that he is here--" he glanced up at the hangar opening which displayed the prison planet in the distance. "--on Kessel?"

The older man's eyes flicked to the freighter the Mar'hute had stepped off. "Seems your ship has journeyed for quite some time on this quest."

Tage nodded his head slightly before the gray alien could utter a word. "If you will excuse our bluntness, we do not receive many strangers from beyond our sector. If you please, accompany me to a holding room. We need to ask a few... questions."

Turning, he started back toward the main hangar doors which led toward the inner corridors of the ship, and addressed one of the death soldiers. "Stay close to him," Tage murmured. "Be alert for a trap."

As they traveled down the corridors to a holding room, Subcommander Tage gestured the Mar'hute inside. "I hope you understand. The Kessel sector is a maximum security zone. The planet itself is a prison for many criminals and anyone who crosses into our space is subject to questioning," he explained. "If this man you seek is on Kessel, then I assume he is a criminal, in which, you will be called to be in question to your motives here."

"For now, make yourself comfortable Lahout, while my captain changes course for Kessel," Tage suggested. One of the death soldiers nudged the Mar'hute's back with his blaster muzzle to ease him inside the holding room.

"I shall return with questions..."

He had wanted to get back into the hang of things immediately, but Brand had managed to coax him to take few hours off first. The old lieutenant had said something about how the captain of the Cortogen Guard shouldn't be running about looking all scraggled like a soldier who had just gotten back from battle. This he found to be greatly amusing because he had just gotten back from a mission and had all the right to be looking scraggly. Besides, he didn't care much for how he looked as long as he still could get his job done.

But apparently Brand Sterling cared greatly about the pristine look of a military officer, and so to save the old man some embarrassment, as well as from a heart attack, Kenshin heeded the man's words and decided to pay a visit to his own quarters aboard the ship. It was a place he spent very little time.

After taking a shower and getting a quick shave, Kenshin was out and about The Hope again, dressed a plain black shirt and military issued cargos. He looked pretty much like any other soldier on leisure time, but many of the higher ranking officers recognized him and they didn't bother him. He soon found himself back in the docking bays, observing as the new arrivals bustled about. It seemed that the troops he had brought with him were almost done with the inspection process. The twenty-four year old suddenly felt like he was fifty. The gathering mission had left him bone tired, but he knew he'd get by the day.

Suddenly an escort appeared, leading the way for a group of prominent robed figures. Political advisors he decided. And to his surprise they disperised almost just as quickly as they had appeared. Only a few of the mob had remained on board and Kenshin immediately picked out the face he was looking for. Feeling energy return to him gradually, he made his way down to greet the Princess, a slight grin tugging at his face.

Sensing that Amarie was feeling a bit down, he decided to surprise her. Sneaking up from behind, he scooped the girl up into his arms like he had done countless times before when she was little. However, he soon found out that she wasn't so little anymore.

"Hello, your highness. It seems that you have grown much since the last time we met." Kenshin said laughing as he pretended to stagger under the weight. "Soon, I won't be able to pick you up so easily anymore."

The living ship seemed to echo what Amarie was feeling, confused as to why her father hadn't been around it lately. Both her and The Hope were merely children, though Amarie would slowly loose her childhood naivety and innocence, while the ship would always remain the same, naive angel and sole comfort to that of the royal who remained.

The ship almost was like a younger sibling in a way, which seemed strange to most, but Amarie couldn't complain.

"Don't worry, we'll find him soon." Amarie whispered, letting her voice be like that of a parent reasuring a little one, " Just don't know how yet."

Whispering in reasuring tones to the ship, Amarie hadn't noticed anyone was nearby, till she felt herself being lifted off the ground by a pair of strong arms gently grasping her around her waist.

"What in the blazes??" Amarie shieked, wriggling for a few moments till she caught the words of her friendly captor, then started laughing in relief.

"Awww common, Master Katarn. We both know that size matters not!"

Lahout looked over his shoulder at the soldier who was pushing him, and then looked at the weapon rather pointedly, as if to say "I'm going, no need to be rude."

He stepped forward, and was guided through several corridors and passageways. Through the hull of this massive ship he could feel the engines begin to engage, and pick up speed. The dull vibration was probably an everyday occurrence for the rest of the crew, but it was new to Lahout. He had only been on two large craft; the rest of the time had been spent in some small craft. As of late it had been in the beaten up freighter that was behind him, and no doubt being combed by soldiers.

"I should hope your commander returns quickly," said Lahout, after several minutes of silence in the 'holding room', as the man Tage had called it. He looked at the guard, but received no acknowledgement.

"Loss of uniqueness and individuality," he muttered slightly, to himself. Probably a very strict form of government, with a powerful arm, he thought.

Still waiting, Lahout sent out a gentle wave of the seventh. What he could learn now would probably come in handy later.

Kamon listened from inside the room, bound in the Force binders, as the troops outside of the door walked away. Moments later, a new set of boots walked up to the door and stopped. From inside Kamon could here them talking. Shift change. I better remember that. All of the stress of hanging aorund in the cold, inhaling glitterstim and all that, was getting to him more than he really wanted it to. Already he had started to forget things that he would never have wanted to forget before. That fact that he could do little to nothing to stop the loss of memory was also weighing down on him.

"I have to get out of here sometime soon. I can't afford to forget everything."

The dreams, all of them, were about his daughter. Glitterstim had a powerful affect on the mind and it seemed to make him remember his daughter more than anything else. Perhaps it was because of the way he thought of his daughter. The glitterstim affected that part of the brain more than the rest. Whatever it was, it was a really good thing he remembered her. If he didn't, well, he didn't know what he would do. She was too important to him for him to lose her. He'd already lost her mother and her brother. Who knows what would happen if he lost Amarie too.