--Rebellion HQ

"Tracer... help me."
The woman's eyes snapped opened so fast they clicked, and she searched around frantically for the voice she had heard. It took Tracer a moment for her to adjust to the dim light and realize she was hunched over a computer terminal. The screen above her head was on, displaying a message that the diagnostics scan she had been running was complete. She acknowledged it as she sat up in the desk chair, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and yawning. Then she heard the voice again: "Tracer, help me..."
She recognized the voice now; it was Aidon! He sounded weary, in pain, crying out for help. It took her weary mind a moment to realize that he was communicating with her through the Force, "speaking" directly into her mind. He had left HQ at least two hours ago, after the hostage mission had been completed. If something happened to him on his way home...
Tracer jumped to her feet and headed for the door. If he was calling her telepathically, he may be unable to move. She had to find him, and help him. She visited the base armory, grabbed a powerful disruptor shotgun from the rack on the wall, then went over to the garage and started up the engine on the black van. If she hurried maybe she could make it in time.


--Klanstrom Apartments, Room 214

Aidon came back to his room about two hours after midnight, his feet heavy and his head throbbing from the events of the day. He closed and locked the door, wasting no time in getting to bed. As he extinguished the room lights and let the darkness surround him, he found that getting to sleep wasn't nearly as easy as it should have been. He tossed and turned furiously, his mind filled with thoughts concerning the past day. The mission at the comm station, the hostage rescue, and the encounter with Tiliya at the diner all swam through his psyche in the form of jumbled images, seeming rational and making no sense in the same breath. He had never done two missions in the same day before, and it was taking its toll on his mind.
The air in the room quickly grew hot and stuffy, a consequence of the apartment building having no working air conditioner. Aidon peeled off sheet after sheet until, unable to bear it any longer, threw himself out of bed and walked over to the window. He flung it open, letting in the cool night air. He braced his hands on each side of the window and stood there a moment, looking out into the city around him. There were only a few hundred cars out at that late hour, and they were making their ways from place to place, on the ground and in the sky.
"Aw, blast it," Aidon groaned, his voice weak and cracking. There had to be something better he could do besides suffering in his room. He glanced at his bedside clock: 0347. More than likely Tracer would be home now. Aidon went over to the jacket he had draped unceremoniously over a chair when he had come home. Aidon picked up the leather jacket, heavy with the pistol still hidden inside. He didn't really know where he was going, but he had to take a walk, try to clear his head. He slid one arm into it, then the other, and then he was surrounded.
How many there were, or how they got into his house Aidon didn't know, but he suddenly became aware of a number of presences in his bedroom. His first thought was to take defensive action but he hesitated, feeling something strange that set them apart from the guards and stormtroopers he was used to fighting. There was some darker power at work here, something that warped his feeling of them through the Force, twisting and distorting its impressions.
If the marauders knew Aidon was aware of them they didn't show it. They hovered silently around him, watching him, studying him. Dangerous as it might have been, Aidon took a moment to think through a plan of attack. He didn't know how many there were, and he didn't dare open himself to the Force or turn his head to find out. He would need a weapon. His pistol was still in his jacket, but his lightsaber was across the room on the bedside table; a simple reach of the Force would summon it to his hand.
The time came for action. With a thought Aidon's lightsaber leapt into his waiting fist. With a snap-hiss it ignited, casting a blue glow around his bedroom. His eyes immediately went wide as he noticed the figures around him. There were six of them, all dressed in black fatigues that looked loaded with weapons. The glow from the saber seemed to distort around them, a perversion of the physical light as much as their feeling through the Force. Black masks covered their faces, giving them the appearance of giant insects as they crawled over the walls.
One of the black-suited men -- an officer, Aidon guessed, from a strange, badge-like marker on the side of his helmet -- leapt off the wall and landed before him. Aidon brought up his saber in a fighting stance, hoping he wouldn't be forced into combat in these tight quarters. That fear was challenged, however, as the man removed a cylindrical object from his belt and activated his own crimson-bladed lightsaber. There was only a moment of safety, then the red blade was brought around toward his right shoulder. Aidon brought his weapon up to block the strike, then spun it to deflect a follow-up attack at his left hip. Once the blades connected, his foe attacked again, now swinging his sword hard at Aidon's head. He was able to duck out of the way, backing up from his assailant. What he didn't see was that another of the marauders had energized his own weapon, and he now brought it down on him. Caught off balance from his backward movement, there was little he could do to dodge the move, and the blade came close to his left calf. The hair on his leg stood on end as the energy passed by.
There's no way I can win this, Aidon thought as he looked around at the six men on his walls. I've got to get out of here. The first attacker was blocking the doorway to the living room, so there was no way out there. The only other portal to the outside was the open window on the other side of the room. Knowing that jumping out a second-story window -- dangerous as it was -- was his only chance of escape, Aidon decided to take it. He feinted to the left, causing the attacker to bring his blade up once more, then extinguished his blade and threw himself toward the bed on the right. As he had hoped the man was caught off guard, giving Aidon the time he needed to somersault across the bed, his heels catching on the edge of the mattress and launching him toward the window. Floating in mid-air Aidon saw another of the warriors stepping off the wall and brandishing his lightsaber, ready to cut off -- quite literally -- his escape. There was nothing he could do to alter his trajectory through the air, so he chose another means of defense. He gathered the Force to himself, releasing a blast of energy that knocked the man off balance and into the wall.
Then Aidon was through the window, finding himself in another predicament. The alley floor was two stories below him, and he was falling fast. He now became aware of a biting pain in his lower left leg, and he realized that the man earlier had indeed sliced through his leg with the lightsaber. He was able to twist his body slightly in an attempt to break his fall, but in a moment it was all over. He was able to use the Force to soften his fall, but his body slammed into the ground. Aidon was somewhat grateful he didn't hear anything crack, but the pain was unbearable. His vision blurred, and his consciousness faded. With his last thought, he reached into the Force to broadcast a cry for help to the one he knew would be listening for him: "Tracer... help me..."
The commander of the strike group watched Aidon's body as it sailed out the bedroom window to drop the six meters to the ground below. He walked over to the window to witness the impact, then he jumped down himself, accompanied by the soldier who had scored the hit with his saber. He landed easily in a crouch next to the motionless form, reaching down to place his palm three centimeters from Aidon's head. He closed his eyes, feeling for any glimmer at all. He found none. "He's gone," he shouted up to his troops. "Extraction now."
The sound of screeching tires split through the still air as a black unmarked van skidded to a stop at the mouth of the alley. The driver's door opened and a woman stepped out, cranial implant gleaming in the moonlight. It took Tracer only a moment to assess the situation before leveling a disruptor shotgun at the man standing beside Aidon. "Beat it, blackie, or you're eatin' plasma!" she shouted, cocking the weapon with her left hand.
The commander didn't know what to make of this at first, but Tracer was quick to make it quite clear. She fired the weapon, the projectile connecting with the man behind him. The man screamed and fell to the ground, clutching his bleeding shoulder. The commander quickly ordered all his men to evacuate immediately; the man hit with the rifle vanished in a cloud of smoke.
Tracer ran over to Aidon, dropping on her knees beside him and looking into his still face. "Aidon! Aidon, can you hear me?"
He heard her voice, faintly, and know that his cry had been answered. With his remaining spiritual strength he fought for a handhold, climbing slowly back over the precipice and into conscious thought. His eyes slowly opened, and the first thing he saw was Tracer smiling down at him, a tear of joy rolling down her cheek.


--Rebellion HQ

Aidon awoke some time later on a couch in the HQ lounge. His head was still pounding, and his vision swam slightly, but he was still grateful to be alive. As his eyes adjusted, he heard a voice to his left. "Hey. How you feeling?"
He pushed himself onto his left elbow, smiling. "Like I got ran over by a bus."
"You fell two stories," Tracer replied, coming to sit on a chair beside the couch. "The force is about the same."
Aidon looked around and idly wondered what time it was. His gaze fell upon his left leg, and the bandage wrapped around his calf. He vaguely remembered Tracer taking him to the base infirmary, but between his excruciating pain and the subsequent painkillers he wasn't all that sure. "How's your leg?" she asked.
"Better than earlier," he answered. "It only hurts a little when I move my foot." He demonstrated by wiggling his toes and wincing. "What time is it?"
"Almost noon. You slept most of the morning." There was a period of awkward silence before Tracer leaned forward in her chair. "Aidon," she whispered, "what where those things that attacked you?"
His head felt light as he remembered the attack, and his head dropped back onto the pillow. "I don't know exactly," he groaned. "But they were... trained and highly skilled in the Force."
"Were they Sith?" Tracer asked, her eyes narrowing.
Aidon shook his head. "I doubt it. As far as we know there can only be two Sith at a time, and I fought six this morning."
"Then what were they?"
"There's only one other option I can think of. They were Dark Jedi... and I've been discovered." A beat of silence. "But they didn't fight like any Dark Jedi I've seen before. They were climbing on the walls, and even Dark Jedi don't fight six at a time."
The door opened and Shado entered the room. "Hey, Aidon, Tracer told me what happened. How's the leg?"
"Fine, I think," he answered.
He pulled over a chair and sat down. "If you're up to it, I need to find out what happened and put it on record." He pulled out a datapad. "You mind just answering some questions?"
"A debrief?" he chuckled, working to sit up. "I guess so. Shoot."
"All right... Any ideas about who these guys were?"
"Tracer and I were just talking about that. We know they were some kind of Dark-"
"Ninjas," Tracer spoke quietly.
Aidon looked at her quizzically. "What?"
"They had to be ninjas. You know, like in the movies. You said they were crawling on the walls, and the one I blasted smoked away."
"'Smoked away?'" Shado echoed.
"Yeah, you know. The ninja smoke... funeral burial thing."
Aidon shook his head. "Tracer..."
She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. "I don't hear you giving any good ideas."
Shado tapped his stylus against the datapad impatiently. "People? Could we?"
"Aidon, how did these guys find you?"
He shook his head. "No idea. I don't even know how they got into my apartment. They were right on top of me before I sensed them. If I had been sleeping at the time I probably wouldn't be talking with you now."
"Does this pose a threat to the Resistance?"
"They were probably only after me. But, if the Empire knows where I am, it won't be long until they find HQ, and then you could all be in danger."
Shado nodded, mulling it over. "Hmm. Well, I'd put the base on yellow alert, but it may tip off the mole I told you about yesterday. The best I can do is increase the guard cycles. In any case I have to take you off active duty, from your injury. If you want to stay here, go ahead. I have to get back to the office." He stood from his chair and left the lounge, leaving Tracer and Aidon alone.
She watched him go, then heard Aidon from behind her. "Ninjas?"
She laughed. "I know, it's stupid. Just trying to lighten the moment, that's all." She turned back to Aidon. She could see the look on his face, as if he was deep in thought, his mind racing. "What is it?"
"You know," he began, his voice quiet, "I think I remember who would know what those things were."
"A Jedi Master, Baross-Oflann Daga. He used to study the history of the Sith and the Dark Side of the Force -- a very dangerous things for any Jedi to study, but he had the patience and the will not to fall. He wrote dozens of volumes on the subjects. If this is some kind of ancient warrior style the Empire has unearthed, he would know something about it."
"A Jedi Master on Coruscant?" Tracer asked skeptically. "How do you know where he is?"
Aidon realized he wasn't making himself clear. "No, Master Daga died about, oh... two thousand years ago. The only reason I know him is they used him for a gatekeeper personality in one of the holocrons at the Jedi Temple. They kept that one for private use, though, from all the things he knew about the Dark Side."
"What's a holocron?"
Aidon was struck that he had never spoken to her about this. "A holocron is a small crystalline object, usually a cube or a pyramid, that holds all the knowledge of a Jedi Master. Once its programmed, the personality manifests itself through a hologram of the Master, one that you can talk to and it will give you information about a given subject. It can only be used by those with the Force, so not everyone can access the information inside them."
"And where is Master Daga's holocron?"
"Back in the Jedi Temple, last I heard. Since the occupation, however, the Empire might have destroyed all the Jedi artifacts left there. I'm not sure, but I think they turned the Temple into a hotel."
"Right," he laughed. As he thought about it, a plan started to formulate in his mind, a plan that he couldn't ignore as easily as five minutes ago. "Tracer, I've got to get up there. If Master Daga's holocron is still in the tower, I've got to get it back."
Tracer sighed. "I'd try to talk you out of it, but I know you. Once you get a crazy idea... But what about your leg? Are you able to handle something like this?"
Aidon swung his legs over the side of the couch. "It's feeling a lot better, actually. Must be that Jedi resilience." He winked at her.
"Aidon, you know I'd help you if I can, but you're not on actives -- I am. Shado's been getting really worked up with this mole we've got running around the base, and if they somehow got wind that I was helping you on a mission you shouldn't even be going on in the first place..."
"I get it, Tracer, I get it. I'm not asking for your help, just your sympathy. I know the Jedi Temple like the back of my hand; I just hope they haven't changed it that much."
Tracer got to her feet. "Well, whatever you do, be careful. And good luck."
She turned to leave, but Aidon called out to her. "Actually, you could do one thing that I can't. Can you clear a vehicle release for me? I'll be taking the bike."


--Imperial Arms Hotel, Coruscant

Aidon raced through the air-streets of Coruscant on one of the Rebellion's "appropriated" vehicles: an H-6 Skybird Swoop. Since his conversation with Tracer he had changed back into his street clothes -- this time without any weapons -- checked to make sure his leg was as well enough to travel as he thought it was, and headed off. When he was half a kilometer away from the towering structure now known as the Imperial Arms Hotel he eased the swoop into a dive to about 15 meters off the ground. He hovered around the massive one-kilometer-high building, found a suitable place to park, and lowered the bike to the ground. He removed the polarized wraparound shades and leather gloves he was wearing, then started walking slowly to the front door of the tower.
As he walked he looked up at the immense tower, a flood of memories connected to the place coming back to him. He had spent twenty years of his life living and working here, always returning to it after missions with Master Sjin and regarding it as "home." A muted beeping from the datapad in his pocket broke Aidon from his reverie. He pulled it out while he walked and glanced at the screen. It was a message from Tracer; Aidon smiled as he opened it. It was encrypted for security, in a code Tracer had developed from any emergency communication between them. The only decoders were any their own private computers; she probably used it to keep the base's mole from finding the message.

I said I wouldn't get involved, but I lied. This thing is important
to you, and I wanted to help somehow. I pulled some blueprints. Most
of the upper levels are closed off to the public, and from what you
told me earlier they're probably where most of the more Jedi-oriented
stuff is. More than likely your holocron's up there.

Good luck, Aidon. May the Force be with you.

P.S. If anyone asks about you, your "buddy" Syd Kolmarr is in room
118-31. I've included his bio in the attachment, just in case you
need it : )

Aidon shook his head amusedly. Tracer could always find a way to assist, even when she wasn't authorized to. He opened the attachment of the message and started to read the information of Syd Kolmarr, a man who had checked into the hotel last week on a business trip from Corellia. He was a shipyard supervisor by trade, hoping to offer some of his company's starfighter designs to the Empire. Aidon wasn't too thrilled about Tracer's choice in "accomplices," but she added a note that he wouldn't be in the hotel for the next three hours, so he couldn't be asked any questions that could get in the way.
Aidon scaled the small flight of steps to the front door of the hotel and entered. The lobby was almost as magnificent as the exterior of the building. It was almost as wide and as tall as the base of the building; he wouldn't have been surprised if it occupied the entire ground floor. At least a hundred beings milled about, seeking each other out for conversation or other business. The floor was polished to a marble shine, and it beautifully reflected the plants and stone pillars placed periodically around the room. The front desk was to his right as Aidon came in, and the lobby was otherwise furnished with groups of chairs clustered around tables scattered throughout. He made a beeline through the crowd to the front desk. The receptionist was a female human, dressed in a drab gray dress that looked more like a military uniform. She smiled as he approached, hands reflexively resting on the computer console in front of her. "Welcome, sir. Will you be checking in?"
Aidon folded his hands together on the desk, adopting an accent that could be estimated as Southern-Hemisphere Alderaanian. "Actually, I'm here to see a friend. Can you tell me if Syd Kolmarr is still here?"
She tapped the keys and responded slowly, cautiously. "He is checked in, but I believe Mister Kolmarr is out at the moment."
He chuckled. "That's all right; I can wait in his room. When do you suppose he'll be back?"
He talked fast, and she was caught slightly off guard, as he had planned. "Uh, he left a message that he should be back in about two hours."
"All right, I can amuse myself. Room 118-31, right? Thanks."
He turned and left casually into the crowd, pleased that his performance did the trick. He headed for the stairs at the far end of the room, which led to the lift that went up into the tower. He entered along with five other people, who each hit their respective floor's button as the doors to the car closed and they ascended. He stayed near the back, noticing that one of the people had hit the button for the "top" floor that the lift could reach; he would get out then, and look for the stairs. His next objective would be to reach the top of the building, to the central spire where they held the artifacts. Aidon did his best to stay calm and casual as two of the occupants of the car began a conversation about some of the events that had graced the news services over the past few days; they were obviously pro-Empire from the somewhat lewd comments they made concerning the Resistance. If only they knew, he thought to himself. People would act differently if they knew the truth.
At long last the car reached the top floor and Aidon and the one remaining passenger exited. It had been some time since they had passed the one-hundred-eighteenth floor -- where Aidon was supposed to be at the moment -- so he knew he had to move quickly. The passenger took the hall to the left; he limped as fast as he could in the opposite direction. A place this big must have a stairway somewhere, he thought to himself, noticing that they must have remodeled these levels of the building since the days of the Republic. The walls were papered, the floors were carpeted, and nothing looked familiar. He continued down the hall, past door after door of rooms; rooms that would have housed young Jedi only three years ago. As he went along he tried not to think about the day the Empire came to the Temple, about what they did to all the men, women, and children staying here, working and living in these halls.
Aidon shook his head of the thoughts as he reached the stairwell, marked with a "NO ENTRY -- EMPLOYEES ONLY" sign and, naturally, locked. He looked around to make sure no one was watching -- except the hidden security cameras, nothing he could about those -- before producing a lockpick from his pocket and setting to work. In his skilled hands it took no more than eighty seconds to bypass the meager security; he swung the door open and closed it behind him.
The stairway was lit only by the sunlight streaming in through a window above. Aidon took a moment to listen, but he heard nothing but a quiet hum coming from somewhere around him. He scaled the steps to the next level up, then the next after that, and the one above that. The Jedi Temple had over three hundred floors; he was close to the top, but he would have to walk a ways. He looked through the windows he passed, still amazed after all these years at the grandness of the structure that used to house the Jedi. It took several moments for his tactical thinking to kick back in and realize that there were no guards in the "closed off" areas of the tower. Without realizing it he slowed, listening again for movement. There was still nothing, no indication of anyone around him. Aidon continued on, through one last door that led him out of the stairwell.
He could have gone up the stairway one last time to exit out onto the roof, but he was able to recall the layout of the Temple from many years before, and knew of an alternate route that would take him to the storeroom. He was in yet another hallway maze; he continued on, sure of the path to take. And then he heard it: the telltale kliking of boots as they marched across the T-intersection ahead. To Aidon's trained ear the wearer of those boots was also bearing an encumbrance that slowed his movement slightly and made his footfalls heavier, such as a suit of Imperial stormtrooper armor. He ducked through a doorway into an adjoining room, closing the door and staying hidden as the trooper went past the hallway. Despite himself, Aidon smiled. About time we get some guards around here. Here I thought Imp security was slacking off.
He slipped back into the hallway again, now conscious of his own footsteps in the dim corridor. At the intersection he paused and pressed his back to the wall, peeking around the corner at where the stormtrooper had gone. He was now far ahead, and in the opposite direction from where Aidon was planning on going, anyway. He hustled down the hallway, taking the first right he could. He didn't hear any other soldiers as he went; he concluded that the Empire didn't consider this building that much of a security risk, to only put one guard on a level. The ornate double doors of the Temple Library beckoned to him from forty meters down the passage. Aidon took a moment to calm down, knowing how careless one can be when their objective is in sight. He kept his steady pace, up to the doors and triggering the silent mechanism. The portal slid aside; he entered and bid them to close again.
Now Aidon was on the upper balcony of the Republic Archives of the Jedi Temple, the premier repository of the knowledge of the galaxy. That's how it used to be, anyway; now it was nothing more than a large empty room, the shelves that formerly held dozens of volumes of knowledge now bare and silent. Dusty rays of sunlight entered through the main window at the south end of the room, giving the room a greater archaic air. He scaled the steps down to the main level, where shelves and statues lined the walls. He walked silently down the center of room, marveling at what once was. He had spent so many hours in this room during his Jedi career, studying the ancient texts and the histories of the galaxy.
Aidon sighed. As much as he would like to reminisce, there was no time for it now. He hurried along as fast as his leg would take him, to the center of the room and facing north. There was the lift that would take him up, past the roof of the tower and into the Temple Spire, the central and highest point in the Jedi Temple. He placed his hand over the locking mechanism, tapping into the Force to activate the device. The color on its face turned from red to green and the door slid open. Aidon wasted no time in entering the elevator and pressed the button to ascend. As the doors slid closed Aidon released a breath and relaxed. He honestly doubted that the Empire would sent troops to occupy the Central Spire; not even they were sacrilegious enough for that.

Syd Kolmarr walked through the main doors of the Imperial Arms Hotel at that moment, suit neatly in place, briefcase in hand. The meeting with the Imperial representative concerning his starfighter plans went much shorter than expected. He wasn't sure, but he thought they were giving him the runaround, hoping he'd give up. Well, if that was the case, they had another thing coming. Administrator Kolmarr wasn't one to give up easily. He stopped at the front desk and asked for any messages that had arrived while he was out.
"No, sir," the receptionist replied. "But a man did stop by looking for you. He said he'd wait in your room."
"I wasn't meeting anyone here," Syd replied skeptically. "Did he leave his name?"
"No, but he knew your room number. I assumed you knew him. He sounded Alderaanian."
His first thought was corporate spies. "Sienar will do anything to steal my designs! Call the police!"

The lift took Aidon up to the Holomap Room at the base of the spire. From there he went up two levels to the Temple Storerooms, where he began searching for his prize. In the old days it would have taken mere moments, but when the Empire sieged the tower three years ago they ransacked the storerooms, taking anything that even looked remotely of value, including most of the holocrons. Aidon's heart sank upon seeing the aftermath of the looting; crates and containers overturned, their contents spilled out all over the floor. He knelt down by a ravaged crate, fingers running through the discarded remains before returning them to their resting place of the last three years.
Aidon got to his feet, looking disdainfully at the room around him. How anyone could show such wanton disrespect was appalling. If he was going to locate Master Daga's holocron, there was only one way he could do it. He closed his eyes, tapping into the Force and stretching his senses into the chamber. An object filled with the energy of the Force should shine like a beacon to a Jedi, and any holocrons left by the Empire would be easy to find. Aidon stretched his senses to ten meters around him, then 20, then 30. He frowned. He couldn't feel anything.
He took a deep breath and pushed himself farther, sensing to 50 and 60 meters. Then he felt the faint glimmer seven floors above, in another storeroom. Aidon's eyes flashed open. That had to be it! He took off for the stairway, but his leg wouldn't have it, and his head was light from exertion. Aidon was forced to go slowly, up the spiraling staircase farther up into the Spire. Once in the upper levels of the storehouse, he searched for the holocron again, finding it stashed behind an overturned shelf that had collapsed -- or more likely, shoved -- against the wall. He pulled it aside, diving into the pile of rubble beneath. Hidden in that pile was the small, crystalline cube he was looking for, the Jedi holocron of Baross-Oflann Daga. Aidon picked it up, turning it over in his hands and checking it for any damage. It appeared to be well-preserved over the years. He slid it into his pocket, then went for the stairs as fast as he could.
He left the Temple Spire through the main door this time, out onto the roof of the hotel. Aidon was heading for the door that would lead back into the public areas of the building when he heard a deafening high-pitch whine, growing nearer and building in intensity. He looked to see a black aerial transport descending on the roof, nose pointed straight toward him. It hovered just above the ground, and a man jumped out not twenty meters from him, his massive frame dressed in a black business suit. The man stood still for a moment, fists clenched, seeming to stare him down. Then he spoke, a deep, powerful voice that echoed around him. The words were slow and precise, as if the man had been practicing them for years.
"Agent Aidon Krinstaf, I am Inquisitor Fifth Class Mikal Kravyen. By the power invested in me by the Administration of the Galactic Empire, I am here to bring you into custody."
Aidon stood his ground, not daring to show his inward feelings. So, the Inquisitors had finally found him. He had always known this day would come, had spent late nights thinking it over, actually, but had never got around to thinking about what he would do once he had been discovered. His analytical mind kicked into high gear, sorting through options and plans, trying to find something that would get him out of the unpleasant situation he was in.
"It's time to give it up, Krinstaf," Kravyen continued. "Your little spree has gone on long enough."
What about Tracer? If the Empire had found him, was there a chance they knew where HQ was? Had they been concentrating on him this whole time, and had no idea there was an organized Resistance? He couldn't risk fighting Kravyen alone on the rooftop, even without his bum leg he hadn't practiced formal swordplay in ages, and Kravyen was no doubt highly skilled with a saber. Aidon sighed. There were only two options. One was to surrender, the other was to escape.
Aidon spun on his heel, running at full speed to the roof's edge, gritting his teeth against the pain in his leg. Kravyen sensed the action a moment before it was taken, and he produced a pistol from his suit jacket to level at the fleeing agent. Aidon could hear the shots being fired, but did nothing to attempt a dodge. He was too focused on concentrating on the Force, to sense the environment around him and gather the power to himself. It was an old technique, one that he hadn't used in a long time, even longer ago that it was taught. But, as he felt himself being enveloped by the Force, he could feel the power surging through him, and knew that he had executed it perfectly. He opened his eyes now, and could see the bolts from Kravyen's blaster around him, first speeding past him, then slowing, then seeming to fly backward as he surpassed them. He continued running to the edge of the roof and dove over the barrier that surrounded it.

Kravyen leveled his blaster at Krinstaf and fired shot after shot as he ran, trusting his impeccable aim at this critical moment. After all these years, to finally have Krinstaf in his sights. There was no way he could escape him now. None of his shots connected, however, and he was forced to concentrate more on the matter at hand. He took a small moment to aim at his target's skull, then continued firing. The bolt was sure, and the distance was quickly closed between the two.
And then Krinstaf was gone. There seemed to be a glimmer of pseudo- motion, then his body increased in speed exponentially, outrunning his weapons fire and leaping over the edge of the roof.
Kravyen was shocked, but could waste no more time. He pulled the comlink from his pocket and lowered the smoking pistol to his side. "Dolar! Krinstaf's falling from the roof, east side! Get the van, now!"
Below on the ground, Dolar heard her partner's message, and judging from his harsh tone he was pretty steamed that Krinstaf had escaped. She peeled out of the parking lot to the east side of the hotel tower, sticking her head out the window and looking up. She could see a figure, falling from the roof.

When Aidon released the pressure of the Force within him, he was fully aware that he was falling fast from the roof of the Jedi Temple. His first instinct was to search for the holocron in his jacket pocket; it was still there, thankfully. Next he reached into the jacket's outer pocket to produce a small remote transmitter. He pressed the button on its surface, activating one of the most oft-used mods made to the Skybird Swoop he had driven from HQ. From below he heard a high-pitched whine as the swoop's engine kicked in, lifting itself off the pavement and to its maximum height of 35 meters into the air. Using the remote Aidon swung the swoop around as best he could to an area below him, then readied his finger over the button to kill the engine. Even if he timed this right, he would have about three seconds to pull it off.
As he fell he made minute changes to the bike's position, moving it closer or farther away depending on how he fell. Second by second the bike got bigger in his view, along with all the little features of the ground beneath it, including a black van that was parked near his target zone. When the time was right, he finger jammed down on the engine button, and the whine from the swoop ceased. Then he fell past it, and the bike began the speedy descent beside him. Aidon reached out for the bike, grabbing the seat and pulling himself atop it. He pumped down on the throttle to start the swoop, and nothing happened. He panicked, pumped his foot on the throttle again, this time awarded with a high-pitched screaming from the bike. The swoop's repulsor engines bounced it off the black van and back into the sky.
He kicked the swoop's engine into high gear, accelerating to over 500 kilometers an hour, and racing away from the tower as fast as he could. From behind him he could hear the screeching of tires as the black van as it started toward him, and Aidon knew at once that it was the Inquisitor's partner. They always hunt in twos, he thought as he reached into his jacket to don his wraparounds. I should have seen that coming.
Aidon dropped the bike to a mere meter off the ground, dodging left around a truck that was only going the speed limit. He knew that there was no way a clunky van could match a bike on the busy highways of Coruscant, and intended to take full advantage of that fact. He weaved expertly in and out of traffic, leaning left and right around various other vehicles amid the horns of angered drivers. Once far enough away, he circled back through the alleys and headed for HQ.

Dolar saw Krinstaf's swoop dodge around a truck and disappear into traffic. She slammed her palms against the steering wheel as she slammed on the brakes, uttering a curse in her native dialect. "You lost him, didn't you?" she heard Kravyen's agitated voice over the comlink.
She picked it up gingerly. "Yeah. Krinstaf's escaped."
There was a slight menacing pause. "How could he have escaped, Dolar? I had him cornered. He bounced off your van."
"I know, Kravyen," she snapped back. "He was on a bike, I couldn't chase him in this freakin'-huge van."
Kravyen's voice grew in intensity. "I don't accept failures, Dolar. You know that. I don't accept them, Prime Jaglus doesn't accept them, and certainly the Emperor doesn't accept them."
"Kravyen, there's nothin' I coulda-"
Her voice was abruptly cut off by a piercing pain around her throat. Her airways were being constricted, and her breath came in short gasps and she struggled for air. Darkness grew at the edge of her vision, and she thought she heard Kravyen's voice over the intercom. "If you give me failure, you are useless."
Dolar grasped for the invisible hand on her throat, trying futilely against his grip. "No!" she croaked, praying that he could hear her. "No, Kravyen, please!" It was getting harder and harder to breath, and she could feel herself getting light-headed. She was going to pass out soon if she didn't-
The pressure around her larynx abruptly released, and she slumped over the steering wheel, eyes moist, gasping for breath. She then heard Kravyen from the comlink where she had dropped it on the floor of the van. "This is your final chance, Dolar. Do you understand me? This will be your final mistake, or you will die."