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"I've tracked down the slicer, Master. It's on Ord Thoden, in the Western Ward. She has called for help, but I can intercept. My team and I will move in on your orders."

A pause, then a murmur of approval. "Good. Move in quickly, but quietly. The Circle will not send its Dark Acolyte lapdogs into Remnant territories; but they will have other allies under their payroll."

"I will; I'll have the data in my paws and back to you in three days."

Another murmur, this one negative. "No. The collected data in that slicer's possession must never be revealed. Take the data from the slicer and destroy it if you can."

"But what if she doesn't--"

"My apprentice, this is knowledge that must never resurface ever again. If she resists, you must kill her."

"But... I thought--"

"It it unfortunate, yes. The alternative is worse. Do this thing... and I will continue your training, as you requested."

A longer pause settled in, before a deep breath and a sigh preceded her response.

"Alright. Then I'll get started right away."

"I'd hoped I would never have to be in Remnant territories again," Locke said softly. "And if anywhere, at least not here."

Ord Thoden was about as backwater a planet in the Imperial Remnant territories could ever get, though this still amounted as a world critical to sustaining the faction in its current state. Lommite, crucial for the construction of durasteel, was all it could offer in terms of exports ever since the Tenloss Syndicate had bought out the planet's starfighter and space-platform manufacturer, their only competitor; but it was enough of an investment that space platforms and a single Star Destroyer was left in orbit to maintain order. As Sentinel Kajex Surnahm brought his ship alongside the vessel, reducing speed as a squadron of TIE fighters zoomed overhead, he privately agreed that he'd rather be on the opposite side of the galaxy instead.

"Easy, love," Keris said from behind, squeezing his shoulder. "It's just for today, and then we'll be gone. We've got clearance to be here from the Remnant itself, we should be fine."

"The Circle will have heard about this," Syrra said, swallowing and trying to bite back her own nausea as she worked the co-pilot's console. "Hopefully they won't make a move on us so close to us. If I remember right, Taspir III is only half an hour through hyperspace from here, and the Disciples of Ragnos once held that territory."

"Calm down," Kajex said firmly, keeping his eyes on the TIE patrol. "I've been in these territories before _without_permission. We'll be fine- our contact picked the right place to be extracted. Master Skywalker felt this was important enough for us to be assigned to it, so we might as well bite the bolt and get it done."

Syrra looked ready to reply when the console pinged. "Patching us through," Locke muttered.

"Jedi vessel Gold Rush," a calm and even-toned male voice said through the comm-line, "this is Captain Bastor of the Dark Pledge. We have received your request to make landfall in the capital of Domitree, and have decided to grant your request. You are to land your ship in the Western Ward on landing pad 90. After that, you will have twenty hours to conduct your business and leave- I'm afraid this is all the time I can give you. My trooper patrols on the surface have been notified and instructed to render aid to your team." There was a pause. "But be warned- you must keep your Jedi weapons inactive unless absolutely necessary. I do not want there to be an incident that will draw attention to this world."

"We'll be on our best behavior, sir," Kajex said smoothly, feeling relieved enough that he stopped staring at the patrols. "We should be gone before you know it."

"I hope so. This is the best thanks I can offer for returning our soldiers and officers from the _Omega-Orr_to their homes; I hope you make the best use of it. Be on your way, then."

"We will; may the Force be with you," the wolf said quickly. He dipped the vessel low, bracing slightly as the _Gold Rush_was rocked gently by the even descent into the world's atmosphere. "Best get everyone ready."

"Talrik, how are we back there?" Syrra asked.

A brief pause, then a crackle in their headsets. "We're good to go, I brought out a few light blasters. I'll keep the concussion rifle here, and I convinced Rook to keep her glaive here too- but you'll have to give her a noodle bowl in return, Kajex."

"Done," the wolf sighed in relief, rotating his seat around to address everyone in the cockpit. "Her pick of flavor this time, even- just as long as she can cooperate. Just to recap, we're here to find, secure, and extract a slicer and bring her to the NRI. Apparently she uncovered high-level, vital information, and wants to exchange it for asylum."

"Why doesn't the NRI come to get her then?" Talrik asked.

"Because the information was intercepted in a packet meant for the Circle of Syn," Kajex replied darkly. "That puts it in _our_field. Whatever it was she found, it was crucial enough to be deca-encrypted; and since it'd be boring to explain what that is, I'll just mention that only two other Imperial projects and plans have ever used deca-encryption."

"Which ones?"

He paused. "Both Death Stars." The silence that followed was chilling, but he let it linger so it could sink in. "Whatever they found... it's big."

"How do we do this?" Syrra asked.

"Talrik and Miles will stay in the hangar and wait for us while keeping an eye on the Gold Rush; Rook's gonna do her job bodyguarding me like usual; Locke and Keris will keep an eye outside of the pickup point; you and I are doing the pickup, kitten. If we do this quickly, we should be in and out in an hour."

"I hope so," the Trianii Jedi said with a shudder, taking in a sharp breath and gagging back.

Her wolf mate frowned. "How are you feeling? You haven't gotten sick during a flight since we first met."

"Just nausea," she assured him, taking a deep breath. "I'll be fine."

"Don't worry," he repeated, turning back to pilot the ship. "Nobody is going to look too closely to a couple of non-humans in civilian attire. This planet is far enough from the Remnant core systems to qualify as backwater- I doubt there's much trouble to find."

"Feelin' a little underequipped without my fightin' stick, boss," Rook muttered nervously, eyes flicking to each well-armed ruffian they passed. "Brutes here look a bit bigger than most."

With only three bars in the immediate vicinity it had not been difficult to find the right one quickly, though it soon became clear that it was in the seedier part of the city. The quarter of Jedi and their Mandalorian guard had needed to space out to avoid drawing attention, though Locke and Keris had managed to ward away stray eyes with subtle Force cantrips that affected the mind. One might have called it overkill, but Syrra had insisted on no chances even while sufficiently disguised. The Trianii had shed her usual robes in favor of a tight shirt and Kane's old bomber jacket; the wolf twins looked at home with the disreputable environment in longcoats; and Talrik had allowed Keris to borrow his own bomber jacket to fit with her dark green coveralls. Only their lightsabers might have given them away, though they were concealed neatly in their holsters.

"Easy, kid," Kajex said quietly, leading the way through the crowd and nearing a drinking establishment, the words One For The Lane glowed over its entrance. "I know it was a long walk, but we just need to do it again and then we're out of here. Just keep your eyes open and don't draw until you see someone draw first."

"That's the worst time to draw," the otter replied.

"You don't always need a fast draw," the wolf countered. "Sometimes it's more important to shoot _last_and hit, than to shoot first and miss. I'm counting on you to keep it holstered until there's some actual trouble." He stopped on the sidewalk opposite the bar, staring at the entrance- no fewer that five rough-looking mercenaries stood talking and loitering near the door, each with a heavy blaster rifle slung on their backs. He took a moment to glance at Locke. "Bro?"

"I'll clear the door, then Keris and I will have a look around," his sibling assured him. The white wolf crossed the street first, performing a barely noticeable hand gesture at the same time; the mercenaries seemed to look around at the same moment, then moved as a group down the sidewalk while continuing their discussion. The subtle mind-trick having removed them from the entrance, Locke looked back and gave the Sentinel a nod before he and Keris turned and made a beeline for the nearest alley, disappearing behind a corner.

"It's scary how well he does that," Syrra muttered, shaking her head as she and Kajex crossed the street. "Though to our benefit, at least."

"Ten minutes, tops," the wolf said quietly. "Be on the lookout for a Squib- furry, around a meter tall, looks like it's eyeing something shiny."

They entered the tavern, the dim interior forcing them to pause a few moments to adjust their eyesight. Nobody seemed to pay the newcomers any mind, a few stray eyes glancing distractedly to the door before flitting away. As expected of any Remnant world most of the patrons were human, staring over mugs of watered-down swill or grumbling about the state of the planet under Remnant rule. A clearly illegal broadcast of an Outer Rim podrace kept much of the barflies attention away from the trio as they moved toward the bar. The barkeep, a wide-bodied middle-aged woman, turned away long enough to address the wolf.

"Newcomers?" she asked in a tired but steady voice.

"Are we that obvious?" Kajex replied with a small smile.

"Ain't seen faces like yours before, you stand out compared to us humans. Don't worry, we're fine with you alien types around as long as you buy something- otherwise you'd best hit the road."

The wolf glanced to both accompanying young women and nodded. "Corellian ale."

"Same," Syrra nodded.

"Got Mandallian narcolethe?" Rook asked.

The wolf gave her a hard stare. "Kid, c'mon- we've got an hour on the surface, I don't want you getting smashed."

"Pfft, fine," the otter sighed irritably. "Ne'tra gal, if you have any."

"I'll go find out where our cargo is being kept," Syrra told them, looking around the bar.

"I got your drink," the wolf agreed with a subtle wink, before turning to talk with the owner a bit more.