Chapter 65: Apogee

Carth pushed aside the unconscious Trandoshan merc slumped over the console, letting him fall to the floor. Stars and afterimages from flash grenades still crowded together in Carth's vision, and he had to waste precious seconds rubbing his eyes clear before he could make sense of the security controls. His arms and body still twitched from repeated blows from shock sticks to his torso, so maybe it was just as well that he couldn't press any buttons. He did his best to ignore the pain and squinted at the viewscreens, frantically searching for one particular corridor...

Please, let them be all right...

"Look, over here!" one of Morin's guards yelled. Carth heard his voice as though it were coming through layers of gauze; they'd all been deafened by a sonic grenade, and their hearing hadn't returned yet. He followed the guard's eyes to another bank of vids.

Dustil, Revan and the captain were clustered around the door panel on one of the screens; knowing those three, they weren't taking their imprisonment lying down.

Thank the Force - they're still alive and kicking. Relief at seeing them safe and sound made his knees wobble. The adrenaline rush that'd carried him this far was fading fast.

"Where are the controls!" Carth yelled into the guard's ear.

The guard ran his hands over the bank of controls, alternately flooding the corridor where Dustil's group was with fire retardant, switching the lights on and off, and making the alarms sound. Finally, he hit on the correct button that opened the blast doors.

"There's no point trying to find them again!" the other guard yelled. "We should wait here for them and secure this room!" He and the other guard began securing the mercs that were still alive. There weren't many.

Carth thought about arguing with them. He thought about just leaving them to it while he tried to regroup with the others by himself, to see for himself that Dustil and Revan were safe and sound. But, dammit, his treacherous body was offering up several reasons not to run off. Without his guides, he'd probably go off in the wrong direction anyway. He had to rest first.

The trip to reach the central control hub had not been as easy as finally overcoming the group of mercs in charge of it. They'd had to run through several gauntlets, fighting mercs who'd set up checkpoints at the intersections of several corridors. If it hadn't been for the fact that half the mercs of each group were looting nearby rooms for treasures, Carth's little trio would never have gotten through the first checkpoint. As it was, he and the guards hadn't escaped without injuries.

Carth dug into his pack and handed the two guards some medpacs. Carth's legs threatened to topple him from exhaustion, so he took the opportunity to sit and address his wounds. His face felt burned from too much blaster fire impacting on his energy shields, and even his excellent armor had been penetrated in several places by enemy blades. Those mercs weren't disciplined, but he had to give them credit for decent fighting skills.

You can't collapse yet, Onasi. There's still too much to do.

"Nasi!" The yells had to be loud indeed to penetrate his hearing.

Despite his aches, Carth lurched to his feet and was staggered by the double impact of Revan's and Dustil's greetings. Carth's face hurt from the relieved grin stretching his face, not caring that his split lip started to bleed again. He gripped Dustil's shoulder and Revan's arm to reassure himself of their safety, not minding that bits of fire retardant stuck to him. Dustil's lips were moving but Carth couldn't hear him.

"What? I can't hear you," Carth said, unable to even hear himself. "We got hit by a sonic grenade."

"I said, you look like hell," Dustil shouted into his ear. His son started coughing from the smoke still rising from consoles that'd been hit by stray blaster fire.

"I feel like hell." Still, even through his exhaustion, Carth felt his heart swell at seeing his son's concern for him. "I've been through worse."

"Excellent job." Captain Morin had followed on Revan's and Dustil's heels, and now stood surveying the bodies lying around the room. He absently flicked bits of fire retardant off his uniform while scrutinizing the screens. "But we still have much to accomplish," he added, pointing to a vid showing the Conclave in session.

Carth limped over to the screen with the others. It looked as though the whole Conclave had been caught by surprise; mercs were guarding groups of House Heads who'd been forced to kneel on the floor with their hands clasped behind their heads, young and old alike. Carth heard his son breathe a sigh of relief that he shared. No one had been killed... yet.

He finally noticed that Dustil's eyes kept darting up to glance at him and back to the viewscreen. Huh, I didn't think anything could drag his attention away from his girlfriend.

"I know I look like hell, but it can't be that bad, can it?" Carth asked. He stuck a finger into his ear and waggled it; his hearing seemed to be coming back.

Dustil ducked his head and shrugged. "You look like you got here straight through a war."

"I just took the fastest way."

Carth frowned, trying to remember more details about that nightmare journey. Other than the numbers involved and the obstacles presented, everything else was blurred in his visual memory, as if only his body truly remembered, through the pain inflicted in those desperate struggles. The blows he'd struck still seemed to linger in his arms and shoulders - but then, that could've just been the shock sticks.

Hell, who cares, as long as I didn't fail them.

Dustil was still staring at him, disbelief in his son's eyes. What, did you doubt I'd move heaven and earth to keep you safe? Anything was worth that.

Carth gripped Dustil's shoulder, turning it into a half hug. "Don't worry about me. I'll be okay."

"Reinforcements are coming," Morin announced, breaking into their low-voiced conversation. "I hope they make it in time."

"How're we going to get Lady Versenne out?" Dustil asked, his mind clearly back on the lady's fate; Carth's lips twitched at his son's fickleness. "Is there any way to reach her?"

Morin shook his head. "There are no comms allowed in closed sessions. There's a viewing gallery for spectators that ring the roof of the main Conclave chamber, but it's likely to be full of mercs by now."

"What's taking the SVN or the police so long? Do they even know?" Dustil said, frustration giving an edge to his words.

"Obviously, they don't. They must've split up the mercs, sending some to take the Conclave hostage, some to distract any help from police headquarters, and some to disrupt communications to the SVN," Morin answered grimly.

"We'll just have to take things one step at a time," Revan put in. "If we can free the House Heads, they can mobilize their household troops."

Carth looked at the screen; just as the captain said, there were rifle-bearing mercs walking around inside the gallery. The ubiquitous transparisteel windows let in weak sunlight just below the platform, falling onto the Heads clustered below.

Windows...

"There might be a simpler solution than using comms," Carth said, pointing to the windows in the vid. "If we can get to the right spot, we can catch someone's attention from the windows. Maybe hold up a message or something."

Morin looked dubious. "What's to stop the mercs from spotting it? Besides, even if we could get a message to them, what do you expect them to do? None of the Heads are allowed to carry weapons, and if any of them offered any resistance, the mercs might well kill them to make an example. We can't take that risk."

Carth looked at Dustil's pale face. "There must a way... I've seen them, even worked with some of them - they're not all that disciplined."

"All the more reason to act with caution."

"The Heads might not have weapons, but they've gotta be wearing a fortune in gems," Revan interjected.

"That's it!" Carth straightened, making his injuries protest. "What any merc wants is credits, and each Head must be wearing at least several thousand! And once someone points that out, every merc's gonna want some for himself. If they make enough noise, they might even distract the door guards and gallery guards."

Morin nodded slowly. "Even with my reinforcements, we'll be quite outnumbered - but we might be able to overpower the door guards. However, we would have only a short time in which we could take advantage of the distraction to disarm the mercs guarding the House Heads inside."

"I think the best way of taking advantage of that distraction would be to make another distraction," Carth said, thinking back to the small skirmishes in the corridors. "Somewhere here's gotta be controls to the sound system, so that they can announce emergencies and stuff."

"So you basically want to make a giant-sized sonic grenade?" Dustil ventured, one of the first to catch on to Carth's plan.

Revan nodded. "A good way of incapacitating the mercs, but one that shouldn't hurt the Heads too much."

Morin beckoned one of the guards over to a console. "You, Ren, come over here. You're one of the best computer techs in the troops."

Carth slapped his hands together, startling all of them. "All right, if we're gonna do it, we'd better get started."

Carth maneuvered their speeder up the side of the Conclave, moving slowly so that they wouldn't attract too much attention from the mercs inside and out. Morin was standing by inside, with newly arrived House Vosaryk troops at the two guarded doorways that led to the Conclave chamber. Beside him in the speeder, Dustil had a large banner rolled up, their message to the House Heads, converted from an old House insignia pennant. It consisted of a simple word: ransom. A word they hoped would be understood by the Heads, and drive the mercs to distraction.

"Just a little more, Father," Dustil said. "A little higher... stop!"

Carth held the speeder steady while Revan and Dustil peeked in through the windows. It was too bad they couldn't break the transparisteel like the Dark Jedi had done that morning; from that height, falling glass would kill the innocent along with the mercs.

"How does it look? Do you think it'll work?" Carth asked.

"Yeah, I think so," Dustil said, turning to Carth. "Like we saw on the monitors, the mercs have their backs to the windows so that they won't be blinded by the sunlight, and the House Heads are facing them. The mercs shouldn't be able to see our sign."

"I just hope the Heads are as smart as people say and won't call attention to us," Carth replied. "Go ahead and do it."

Revan nodded and popped open the canopy, holding up the rearview mirror she'd detached from their speeder. The bandages on her hands made her fumble it a bit. By holding it up to the sun, she aimed flashes of light through the window. The plan was to focus them on Lady Versenne or on the floor near her, so that the bodies of the Heads in front of her would hide the signal.

Carth put a hand on the canopy, ready to close it for a fast getaway. "Well? Did she notice you?"

Dustil peeked in after a few seconds had passed. "Yeah! And none of the mercs noticed!" Carth saw dots of light appear on their section of the windows. "She's flashing her bracelet at us."

"All right, then use the banner." Carth held the canopy open for the next move.

Dustil held one end of the pennant while Revan grasped the other, unfurling it across the window.

"Okay, better hide again," Carth called after a few tense heartbeats. "We can't afford to let the mercs notice the shadow."

After furling the banner, Dustil peered back inside. "I... I think it's working!"

Setting the speeder on automatic, Carth shuffled across the seat towards Dustil's side and looked over his son's shoulder. Below, some of the House Heads near Lady Versenne were throwing down their jewelry, then more and more were following their example. Mercs threw down their blasters to grab the bright gems in both hands.

"Never underestimate the power of greed and stupidity," Carth muttered.

"Look at the gallery!" Dustil said, pointing.

The mercs who'd been guarding the Heads from above were beginning to shift away from the gallery windows, presumably going down to join the feeding frenzy. Carth noticed Lady Versenne's cluster of Heads began shifting towards the back, away from the mercs. Other groups were starting to follow her example. Carth just hoped no one would panic and run, and draw attention to themselves.

"Better tell Morin the show's about to start," Revan said, switching her comm on.

Everyone inside the Conclave chamber clapped their hands to their ears, mercs and House Heads alike. Mercs stopped grabbing for loot and fell to their knees, fingers stuffed into their ears or over similar auditory organs. Carth couldn't hear anything, but from the results, Morin had unleashed sonic hell inside from the security hub.

The doors at both ends of the semicircular Conclave chamber opened simultaneously, and sentients in Vosaryk colors poured through, throwing sonic and concussion grenades. Blaster fire lit up the chamber like flash lightning. The mercs were mostly caught by surprise, but a few who still had hold of weapons returned fire. Here and there, a few Vosaryk-liveried sentients fell, before the rest of their brethren focused their fire on the mercs still shooting.

"We'd better get outta here." Carth suited action to words, closing the canopy and moving back into the driver's seat. "Strap in."

Morin himself was waiting at the landing pad, standing next to the shuttle, surrounded by a small group of Vosaryk guards. To Carth's relief, none of them were pointing their weapons at their speeder. The smoke they'd seen earlier rising from parts of the Conclave looked to have stopped, though the habitat air vents hadn't gotten rid of the acrid smell completely yet.

"I thought you'd still be in charge of your people inside," Carth said as he hopped out of the speeder. "Don't you need to go supervise them or something?"

"My lieutenants can oversee the operation well enough - my place is with the Lady." Morin nodded to where two guards were escorting Lady Versenne towards the shuttle. To Carth's surprise, she was holding a large blaster pistol in one small hand like she knew how to use it. The lady herself was a little disheveled, her hair mussed and robes askew, but otherwise looked fine.

Lady Versenne looked up when she heard their voices, and her eyes veered immediately to Dustil, who was standing beside Carth. She left her guards behind, moving towards his son. Carth took the opportunity to pull Morin aside, letting the girl have a private moment with Dustil. The captain resisted a little, but couldn't actually escape without breaking his elbow.

"So what about the other mercs still running around loose in there?" Carth asked, in an attempt to distract the captain. There were a lot of things he'd never done for Dustil because he hadn't been around, but now he could at least give his son a small slice of privacy.

Morin gave up the struggle, contenting himself with a look back over his shoulder at the couple. "We have it under control. Now that we're commanding the security hub, we've turned the defenses back onto the intruders. After our dramatic rescue, our House allies have finally decided to honor our agreements again, and have sent their people to reinforce us. Some of the surviving Conclave guards have rallied to us, as well, and are giving our troops some modicum of legitimacy."

Revan came up on Morin's other side. "How's the lord taking it all?"

Morin grimaced. "Not well. Not well at all. I can tell from the subzero temperature of the atmosphere around him, and the silence of deep space. He knows who the traitor is, which spares me the effort of telling him, at least. But we have no idea of what's going on right now on the shipyard."

"You mean the traitor's there?"

"Aye, which means the faster we can get there, the better." Morin craned his head back over his shoulder again.

"Hey, tell your men to be careful, Captain," Carth warned in a lower voice. "We already know he - or someone under his command - used a potent poison on Bospho. Make sure they're well prepared to handle someone who'd have no compunction about using it." Morin nodded.

Dustil only had eyes for the girl, and vice versa. Carth hated breaking their reunion up, but the visible culmination of Sayir's plans meant they had to plan a counterattack, and there was no time to waste.

"Come on, Stiller, Lady. We should go somewhere safer," Carth called. Whether it was safer or not remained to be seen. There was also the issue of Vosaryk's traitor to deal with, and then there was one other...

I can't jump to conclusions. I have to find out for myself, first. I have to. Force help me, I hope it won't turn out as badly as it did with Saul.

The trip up to the shipyard passed in a tense silence. To Carth's surprise, Bekim determinedly served tea to all of them. Sure, mercs had tried to take over the Conclave, hold the House Heads hostage, and kill his boss, but by damn, the tea was gonna get served. Carth shook his head and looked over at Lord Vosaryk.

It was a measure of the lord's distraction that he didn't complain about sharing cabin space with grubby and battered smugglers. Lady Versenne didn't speak either, content with sitting next to Dustil and holding his hand. Her father didn't even seem to notice this, but Carth did, and smiled inwardly. Even in the midst of preparation for a possible inter-House war, there was something... cute about his son's relationship.

I sure hope we all live to see it grow.

Lord Vosaryk, on the other hand, made Carth uncomfortable. That could be me sitting there. Was me sitting there. At least I had Revan, Mission, Jolee, and the others. There had been no one for Lord Vosaryk, no one to restrain him, no one to tell him it was wrong. Or at least, no one the lord would listen to. And the one who should've been advising Lord Vosaryk... hadn't.

The slight shudder the ship made on landing vibrated up Carth's bootheels. Morin shared a meaningful glance with the guards, wounded and unwounded alike; in response, they nodded and stood straighter, their holds on their weapons firm and determined.

"My Lord, I think the first thing we must ascertain is the whereabouts of our turncoat traitor," Morin said to Lord Vosaryk, who seemed to wake up out of his frigid silence.

"Yes... yes, that would be best." Vosaryk shook himself and straightened his formal robes as he stalked towards the ramp. His daughter perforce had to move to follow him, reluctantly letting go of Dustil.

Outside, a small horde of medical droids and what Carth assumed were doctors mobbed the lord and his daughter. Lord Vosaryk's huge bodyguard waded through the others, looking relieved at seeing his charge alive.

Since no one said anything to the contrary or tried to stop them, Carth followed his son and Revan out on Lady Versenne's heels. Deliberately, he began to lag behind his son, widening the gap.

As-if casual, Carth murmured a question to one of the wounded guards, one of the two who'd helped him navigate the Conclave corridors. "So, I'm guessing all of your captains have been recalled for this emergency."

Less wary than before, the guard answered, "Yes, they've been called to meet the Lord in the main conference room. The captain sent out the call only a few minutes ago."

"So they'd just be arriving."

The guard nodded. "I imagine so."

Carth watched the others file into the main office; Morin looked sour at not be able to confiscate Dustil's and Revan's weapons. No doubt Lord Vosaryk's bodyguard wouldn't be so lax about it. Carth excused himself, citing a call of nature; the guard gave him directions for the 'fresher. Two guards remained at the doorway to the office. Carth walked along the hall, and stopped at the next corner.

Okay, think this through, Onasi. It should take the Vosaryk people some time to locate every captain who'd arrived on Sluis Van for the big Bazaar's End party, and even more time for every one of them to get here. So, that meant Carth had some time to corner the prime suspect when he arrived. Besides, they must be preoccupied with all the excitement from Sayir's hostile takeover. They just might overlook Carth long enough for him to get all the information he needed.

Still, there's no excuse for you to dawdle. So don't.

After about ten minutes, his patience was rewarded when he heard footsteps sounding from the other direction. The freighter captains were stopped by the guards, who spent more time than usual poring over their identification. Carth's breath stopped for a moment when he saw Dar in the back of the group, wearing a less formal version of a captain's uniform. Carth watched his friend's reaction carefully, and saw the stiffening in Dar's spine when he looked into the office. Seeing his employers alive and well, maybe? Or was it from seeing Revan and Dustil? Carth forced himself to breathe slowly and evenly.

Dar stepped away from the huddle of captains and left under the cover of their complaints about the guards' slowness and delay. Carth sidled around the group and followed Dar at a discreet distance.

It didn't take Dar long to find an empty office and slip into it. Carth stood outside, slipping a foot into the groove to keep the door from sliding shut. Dar didn't even bother to lock the door, but scurried over to a computer terminal. Carth pushed the door open to let himself in, let it close, and locked it.

Carth was just a little surprised by how calm he felt, but he could feel the anger building inside him. The feeling of déjà vu was creeping over him. It's happening again. It's happening again. I'm not gonna let you do this to me, Dar. Not again. Just like on the Leviathan, his rage flashed over into cold calculation, carefully imprisoning any thoughts of rash moves and messy retributions inside a chrysalis of ice.

"Dammit, where is that damned son-of-a-schutta," Carth heard Dar mutter. On the screen, Carth saw Unable to reach recipient, please stand by.

"If you're trying to reach that Sith, Dar, I suggest you try calling hell," Carth said. Dar spun around, eyes going wide with shock.

He didn't know how, but Carth found himself twisting Dar's prosthetic arm up and behind his back, Dar's blaster spinning away towards the door. He slammed Dar into the wall, mashing his friend's face into the metal surface with his other hand on the back of Dar's neck.

"So, when were you going to tell me you betrayed the Republic and started working for the other side?" Carth hissed into Dar's ear. One part of Carth watched Dar squirm dispassionately, and twisted Dar's arm up higher to stop his struggles. Dar gasped with pain. The rest of Carth struggled to contain his rage inside its prison of ice.

"Carth, I-I can explain -"

"Explain what?" Carth snarled. "Explain how you told that Sith we were coming, and to expect company? Explain how he knew Dustil was Force sensitive? Explain how you led my son, my son, right into a trap? I should kill you for that alone."

Carth's hand spasmed and tightened on Dar's neck, and he shook his friend hard. He had to restrain himself from bashing Dar's head in until it turned into bloody ruins. It would be so easy to just let go, let go of his control. It would be so easy to move his fingers just enough, just to the right spots, to break Dar's neck. His muscles were shaking with the effort of holding himself back.

Time rolled back, peeling back from the now to expose the past. For an odd second, Carth thought he held Saul's neck in his hand instead of Dar's, and they stood on the bridge of the Leviathan instead the small office. Then he shook himself, banishing the illusion. No, he wasn't on a ship, he wasn't holding Saul, he was holding Dar. Someone else he'd thought of as a friend, someone else he'd respected and admired.

"No one knew we were going there. We didn't even tell the Vosaryk people, we never gave them that address. So explain to me just how the hell they knew about us," Carth continued when he felt he could speak coherently. His lips peeled back in a snarl. "What's that? You're speechless? Well, then, let me tell you what I think.

"I think the second you saw my datapad, you went and tattled to your Sith buddy, telling him all about us and to set out tea for three. But you didn't know one tiny detail - Dustil's not the only one who's Force sensitive. I gotta tell you, your best pal's dead."

Dar turned his head to look over his shoulder at Carth, his eyes wide. Carth tightened his grip on Dar's neck.

"Give me one damned good reason I shouldn't break your neck right now." Carth could barely manage to keep his voice down. "You know, I wouldn't even be this, this angry with you if I were the only one you'd let down. But I told you I couldn't keep Dustil from coming with me. You knew he'd be there. You set us up - you would've let him walk to his death. You knew."

Dar was silent for several long moments, while Carth's anger built and built until it threatened to shatter his self-control. Then Dar spoke.

"Rinay was pregnant."

The words cut through Carth's heart like a well-aimed vibroshiv, slicing away his anger, leaving him cold and empty like nothing else could. The tide of fury that had threatened to overwhelm his control foundered. "W-what? What're you talking about?"

Dar turned his face back to the wall. "You might as well let me go. I won't fight you."

Carth tensed for some trick. Think this through, Onasi. What could Dar do to you, really? He was in armor, and had quite a few weapons on him; Dar was only in uniform, and disarmed. The only real danger was from Dar's prosthetics, but only if he got close enough to Carth. Where's the harm? But... I've been tricked before...

Maybe it's better for both of us if I'm not close enough to break his neck.

"All right, Dar, I'm gonna let you go... but I swear to the Force, if you even sneeze wrong, I'm gonna shoot first and ask questions later."

Carth let Dar go and distanced himself, making sure he could cover both Dar and the door. Dar sat in the only chair in the small office, absently rubbed the red pressure mark on his cheek, and then he buried his face in his hands.

"I've never told anyone else about this, Carth. It was my secret, mine... and Rinay's." Dar took a breath, finally looking up at Carth. "She told me she was pregnant just before the Mandalorian Wars started. There was some electronic glitch, and they messed up renewing her implant. We were in the middle of our tour. I wanted to resign my commission right then and there, or at least take leave, but she said she wanted to finish out the tour before we'd both resign. She... she would've been only a few weeks into her pregnancy by then, so there'd be no problems. I was gonna talk to her squadron leader, make sure she only got light duties.

"Rinay said she wanted to make sure we had the credits, you know, to start our family out right, make sure there were no problems. And then... then the Mandalorians surprised us, and... that was the end of it for our plans." Dar sat slumped in his chair, looking old and defeated.

"I... I'm sorry." Carth didn't know what else to say. He tried to muster up the anger and betrayal he felt before, but... couldn't. Rinay had also been a good friend of his.

Besides, I know what ashes tastes like, too.

Carth wrenched his mind back on track. "I'm sorry as hell about that, but I don't see what that's gotta do with this."

"It was my fault." Dar rubbed his face. "I should've argued with her more, tried harder to convince her to resign... if I had, we'd both be on Corellia, and you and I, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"I'm sorry, I really am, but what the hell does that have to do with you betraying the Republic? Betraying me? I thought we were friends." Carth tried hard to muster up the outrage and cold anger again. Dammit, he was here to confront Dar, not comfort him.

It was hard. Even now he could hardly wrap his mind around it, hoping against hope that he was wrong about Dar.

Dar sighed and tugged on his earring. "It... I didn't start out this way. But... after Rinay died fighting the Mandalorians, I got to thinking. I got to thinking real hard."

"Thinking about what? Get to the damn point." Carth restrained himself from reaching out and shaking the answers out of his friend. The need to understand was overwhelming.

"Thinking about how the Republic betrayed me first. How the Republic betrayed me and Rinay. I admit it, I was angry. Real angry, ready to lash out at anything."

"How can you say that?" Carth blurted. "The Republic saved your life! You got the latest in prosthetics, you got discharged with a full pension - hell, you even got a job here courtesy of Fleet recommendations!"

Dar slammed his fists on his chair arms. "Don't you get it, Carth? If the Senate had seen this coming, if they'd been paying attention to Mandalorian aggression on the Outer Rim, we never would've been surprised by that strike force! Rinay would still be alive, and our daughter, too!"

Carth flinched from the old pain in Dar's voice; it was like hearing an echo. But he had to stand firm against it. "Is that when you decided to join the other side?"

Dar snorted, a tired sound from a tired man. "Back then, I wasn't in much shape to decide whether I should get my gimp ass out of bed each day."

"Why didn't you go to your brother, then? He would've helped you."

"You know why." Dar tossed his head and made a disgusted face. "The Republic couldn't help me the first time, why the hell would they the second time? They didn't do you much good either."

Carth clenched his teeth together and grated out, "We're talking about you, not me. Get on with it. So when did they approach you? Or did you approach them?"

Unable to distract Carth, Dar reluctantly went on. "About a year or so ago. Hersig took me aside one day when it was my turn to mind the training facility. He told me about how old man Vosaryk was taking it into his head to escalate his battle with Khyrohn more directly, more intense than just scuffles in the stock market. See, we all knew the two Houses were old rivals, but lately it's been getting more and more bitter. When Hersig told me... it, it all started making sense."

Dar looked up at Carth, pleading in his eyes. "You gotta understand, I was terrified that the old man's vendetta was gonna spill over onto my family, Carth. I know that's not allowed, but dead is dead, accident or not. I had a family again, I couldn't stand the thought that I might lose another chance to get my life straightened out."

"Didn't you know you were gonna be siding with the Sith? That you were helping to commit treason?" Carth's lip curled with disgust. "You're smarter than that."

"N-no. Hersig said we needed to change the laws about kersai, that we had to straighten out Sluis Van. House Sayir was the only other House that could do it."

Carth's brows climbed up. "Starting a revolution at your age?"

"Believe me, I didn't want to go looking for trouble. I've had enough of that for a lifetime. I finally thought I was gonna settle down and start a new family somewhere safe. Then I realized the political situation could endanger them at any time. I had to do something." Dar raised his hands and groped around in the air, as if trying to search for and hold onto the elusive something he was going to do.

Carth barked out a bitter laugh. "Sure, by helping Sayir take out both Houses. What were you gonna do about the Sluissi? Line 'em up and shoot 'em all? Destroy their habitats?"

Dar looked down and away. "The Sluissi don't care about the Houses. They've never stuck their snouts into House business before." But Carth could tell his friend's protest was tepid.

"Yeah, right, and I'm the Queen of Naboo." Carth shook his head, appalled at Dar's stupidity. "The Sluissi wouldn't stand for it, and you know it. They'd be interested in seeing what happens to the power vacuum alone! I bet the Ebon Hawk Sayir figured they'd get to keep Sluis Van with the other two Houses outta the way, but the Sith sure as hell wouldn't settle for half measures."

"I didn't know, Carth -"

Carth's frayed temper snapped. "That's the biggest load of bantha poodoo I've ever heard! The Dar I know would've figured it out by now! The Sith are just using Sayir! They're using Sayir and Vosaryk and you! Sayir's gonna lay the groundwork for an insurrection, and the Sith are gonna swoop in here and pluck it right outta their hands!"

He slammed a fist down on the desk, startling Dar. "And you know what else? They were setting you up as the fall guy, did you know that?" Carth's lips curled in a humorless smile at seeing Dar's gape of shock and disbelief. "That kidnapping attempt on the lady, the attempted assassinations, the murder of one of the people who were trying to capture us - they all had to be inside jobs! No one else outside of the House could've known about the lady's movements, been trusted enough to get close to Bospho, had knowledge of the shipyard's layout - no one else but Hersig - and you."

The other ship captains might be in on the conspiracy, too... Carth reminded himself. But none of the other ship captains matched up to the scenario. Most didn't have families on Sluis Van, none had Dar's background and connections to OFI, nor did they have Dar's combat expertise. No, Dar was the most suspect.

"No..." Dar breathed, nearly slack-jawed as he thought about all the startling implications.

"Yeah. If the House had found out about the plot prematurely, you would've been the sacrificial nerf Hersig threw to the wolves." Carth leaned down, getting into Dar's face. "Do you get it now? Hersig never intended to help you; someone as ambitious as him would never share power! The second he got into position, you would've been found dead, face-down in some alley with a knife in your back. And your family probably won't last much longer after that."

From the pale, blood-drained face his friend turned up to him, Carth hoped what he'd said had gotten through. I just hope it isn't all an act. He's fooled me before. Carth had to wonder what had been going through Dar's head; then again, logic didn't really come into play if family's involved. Now that the rage had dissipated a bit, he could almost sympathize with Dar. Almost.

"All right. All right, you got me there," Dar said after a long while. "It looks like I've been played for a right fool." He ran a hand through his graying hair and took a deep breath, as if trying to put it behind him. "But I couldn't have been working for a Sith. The Republic won the war, the Sith are beaten, Malak's dead -"

Carth jerked his hand up, cutting Dar off. "There are still Sith out there. Sure, they lost their leader, but a dozen more are stepping up to replace him! Hell, we were out here because OFI and the Jedi Council sent us to investigate a splinter Sith fleet that've been attacking Outer Rim colonies.

"Let's face it, even if Sayir could take over without Sith help, the Sluis Van status quo is gonna change forever - for the worse! Think about it - if Sayir puts all their people in the government, what's gonna happen to the Sluissi? They're the ones who build the majority of the warships - they're gonna get turned into second-class citizens at best, slaves at the worst. They might even hand the Sluissi on the planet over as hostages, to keep the workers from making trouble while working on the shipyards. Is that the kind of regime you want to help put in power, Dar? Is that the kind of people you'd want to work for? You're the one who talked so much about honor and loyalty, what's your answer?"

"I did it for my family!" Dar clenched his fists again; Carth tensed. "Don't tell me you wouldn't have done the same for Morgana and Dustil."

Carth was silent for some minutes, unable to stop thinking about the attack on Telos over and over. Thinking about Saul's offer. Thinking about Morgana's probable reaction.

"I don't know what I would've done," Carth said. "I never had time to think about those kinds of what-ifs, thinking about anything else other than getting back in time to save them, or getting revenge. But I'm pretty sure Ana wouldn't have appreciated it, and neither would Rinay. Rinay fought against this sort of treachery, she never would've wanted to be part of it, and she never would've wanted you to be, either!

"And if there's one thing I've learned from the wars, it's that at least Mandalorians keep their oaths and promises, for all their barbaric ways. The Sith would remove you from the gene pool, cutting you down because you're weak."

Dar shook his head, denying his words. "I still don't really believe you about the Dark Jedi. The Jedi Council must've wiped them out, right? Why would they be here, in such a remote sector?"

Carth rummaged in a pouch and pulled out a silvery rod and ignited it. The bright red beam lit up the room. "So where do you think I got this, huh? The Sluis Van Souvenir and Gift Shop? There was a Dark Jedi, all right. We took care of him." He put it back into a pocket. "You better not think I'm lying."

"No - of course not." Dar ran his hands through his hair. "Okay, you've convinced me, Carth. It looks like I've made a big, big mistake. But... they know who I am, they know where I live, my family -"

Carth rubbed his face. Damn all the complications. "If you can't trust the Republic to keep them safe, will you trust me?"

Dar stared at him. "But... why? Not only did I foreswear myself, I set you up for a trap! I wouldn't blame you if you pointed a blaster at me and pulled the trigger right now. It's the least I deserve."

Carth twitched at the echo of Revan's despair in Dar's voice. His head was telling him it was the logical, safe thing to do, but his heart was telling him it would be wrong. Hypocritical, even, considering the company he kept, these days. It wasn't his place to judge and execute Dar.

And anyway, I've killed enough people today.

"You'll have to answer to the Sluis Van and House authorities for all this, after this thing with Sayir is over and done with," Carth said, deciding honesty was the best policy here. "And maybe even the Republic, for treason, I dunno. But right now, we need all the help we can get to straighten this mess out. I get the feeling this is just the beginning."

Dar gaped at him. "How do you know I won't turn on you the second your back's turned? Once I get back on my ship, there's no way you could reach me."

Carth spun and grabbed Dar by his collar, pulling him up off his chair until his nose was just a few centimeters away from Carth's face. "Because," Carth breathed, "you owe me before you owe anyone else. You owe me before House Vosaryk, before Sluis Van, before even the Republic. I swear to the Force that if you turn on me again, you'd better make your peace with whatever gods you have, because I will come after you wherever you run - and you'll learn that this galaxy isn't big enough to hide in - not from me."

Opening his hand, Carth released Dar and added, "Remember, Saul had the whole Sith fleet and Malak to hide behind. It took me a while, but I still nailed him in the end." His lip curled. "You? You wouldn't have a snowball's chance on Tatooine."

"So... what're you gonna do now? Turn me in?" Dar asked in a small voice.

"No. Like I said, we need all the help we can get." Carth paced towards the door and back, keep one eye on Dar. "You're gonna go back out there with me. If there's fighting, you can vouch for me. Get me into any war councils there are, if you can. They haven't got the experience here to handle a full-fledged firefight if Sayir penetrates the defenses from the habitats. As for the rest, you fight for Sluis Van if it comes to it. You fight for your family."

Dar nodded, looking relieved. "I will. I'd give you my word, but we both know it's a debased coin, right about now."

Carth nodded. "I've got my eye on you. For your sake, you'd better not pull anything funny." He palmed open the door and jerked his head towards it. "We'd better join the others now, they're probably wondering where we've been."

"Carth, wait."

"What?" Carth said, frowning. Was Dar stalling?

"Promise me something?" Dar stared at his boots. "I know you don't owe me a damned thing, but..."

"What? I can't promise not to turn you in, Dar."

"No, it's not that." Dar sighed and pulled his family holocube out of a pocket. "Don't tell them. Let me explain it, in my own words. Before it all comes out in a trial."

Carth hesitated. He supposed Dar had that right. "All right. I promise." He bent and picked up the blaster on the floor, and handed it back to Dar.

Dar took it but continued to block the door. "Carth... are we still friends?" he asked.

"I don't know," Carth said after thinking over his answer. "But I don't usually give anyone another chance after they've lost my trust. I don't know if I'll ever forgive you. I would... I'd need more time. Maybe. Someday."

Dar looked saddened at this answer, but nodded and moved out into the hallway. Carth followed him.

The two guards passed them into the main office, where Carth's eyes were drawn towards the lord's aide, now slumped in layers of heavy bindings. Probably the same Hersig who had approached Dar to further his treason; Carth couldn't help the angry glare he directed Hersig's way. If that man hadn't overreached himself... Carth shook away the might-have-beens and looked around. One notable absence was that of Lord Vosaryk; none of his retainers were present, either.

Dar went on to join with the cluster of captains standing around a holo of the shipyard, talking in low tones with Morin and Lady Vosaryk. Carth slid into a seat next to Revan and nodded to Dustil, who sat on the other end of the low couch. Now that the action was over, little tremors began to shudder in his belly. He tried to still the shaking in his legs and hands, battle nerves from the fights and argument with Dar making him shiver.

"So, what happened?" Carth whispered once he was certain his voice would be steady. "I thought old man Vosaryk would be here for sure."

"Where have you been?" Dustil hissed from across Revan. "He got thrown out - Lady Versenne's in charge now. You missed all the excitement."

"I, uh, I was just talking to Dar." Carth declined to add anything more; it wasn't the time, and they couldn't afford anymore distractions.

Revan shot him a sideways look. "What happened? You look upset."

Carth evaded the question. "With this disguise, I always look upset." He almost laughed at the twin expressions of exasperation on Revan's and Dustil's faces. "Anyway, are you trying to tell me the girl just staged a coup?"

Revan's exasperated voice was interrupted by the alarms beginning to blare, the same kind he'd heard at Vanquo, Serocco, and many other places during the wars. Alarms he'd hoped he'd never have to hear again. That was the standard Republic signal for -

Invasion imminent.

With thanks to Prisoner 24601 for beta reading and giving me valuable feedback.