The dull droning persisted, penetrating a peaceful sleep. Drake Paulsen resisted the rude awakening. But the vivid stain of red tinging the darkness behind his eyelids did not subside. Fearing a ruptured plasma conduit, the Socorran pirate jumped up and reached for the extinguisher beside his bed.

"Nikaede, damage report!"

Expecting to awaken in chaos, with his ship imploding around him, Drake awoke instead to darkness, the urgent thunder of his own voice, and the incessant humming.

A familiar silhouette stood beside his bed. Glistening with sweat, her lithe, naked body was outlined by the illumination of the lightsaber. The deadly shaft cast sanguine reflections throughout his quarters.

"Tiaja?" he whispered.

She was taller than him by five centimeters, her black skin nearly as dark as the shadows. A plaited up mane of dreadlocks hung across her muscular shoulders as she slowly turned her head to regard him. There was no hint of recognition in her eyes.

Bursting through the bulkhead door, Drake's first mate Nikaede Celso charged into the room with her bowcaster. Sable fur bristling for a fight, the Wookiee roared a profanity-laced warning and aimed the weapon at Tiaja.

"Nikaede, stand down!" Drake ordered.

The Wookiee fired back with a slew of insults at her captain and refused to lower her guard.

"Nik, she's slepwalking again." Drake held his hand out to appeal to the Wookiee's sense and reason.

"Drake?" Lips quivering, Tiaja stared at the irate Wookiee and collapsed to the floor. The lightsaber disengaged in her hand and clattered across the deck plates.

Drake leaped from his bed and caught her, wrapping the sheet about them to preserve their modesty. "The nightmares again?"

Breathless, Tiaja nodded her head against his shoulder. "Worse, this time. They're so real." She trembled in his arms, grasping at his shoulders. "I've been honest with you, Drake. About everything. Who I am. What I am. What I've done."

Staring at the lightsaber laying on the deck, the Socorran stroked her hair. "And it's been appreciated, Tiaja, but I get the feeling you're not telling me everything."

"I come from Braksta, a village near the Trade Outpost on Dathomir."

"Where you used to run with a Nightsister clan," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "Yeah, I know. You told me all that. And how you made your living as a merc until you decided to part company with them."

"What I didn't tell you is that I have a little sister back on Dathomir. I left home to keep them from recruiting her and turning her into..." Tiaja looked away. "... into a monster like me. I left her there with an uncle, thinking she'd be safe. I was saving money to get her offworld. Away from the danger, but they've found her."

"The dreams?"

Tiaja wrapped her arms around Drake's neck. "Since our parents died, there's a bond between us. She's been reaching out to me, but didn't know how to control it. Drake, they're going to kill her."

"Why would they kill her when they can train her to be a merc like them?"

"The Nightspider Clan was decimated by the Empire. Only a few of them survived the assault. They believe the souls of their dead sisters were reincarnated in the bodies of girls born on Dathomir. Girls like me and my sister. With a connection to the Force. To release these trapped souls, they have a ritual, the Talakun. They take the chosen girls to the bottom of their clan stronghold and leave them to the cavern spiders.

Drake frowned, a chill running the length of his neck. "I've heard stories about Dathomirian spiders. Some as big as bantha live in those mountain tunnels."

"The Nightsisters keep the brood fed, and the spiders do not attack them. The girls are an offering." She showed him the ugly scar across her palm, and old injury that had deformed the pad of her thumb. "They allow the spiders to envenomate the girls."

"That happened to you?" Having discounted the wound as a relay burn, Drake examined the scar more closely. "How'd you survive?"

"I barely did. When I recovered, the Nightspider Clan were satisfied that one of their sisters had returned to them and began training me."

"And if you had died?"

"I would have been fodder for the spiders. Unworthy of even a gravestone. Thousands of bones litter the floor of those caves like the wreckage of starships around a gravity well."

Drake interlaced his fingers between hers. "You're certain it's your sister?"

"Drake, if I don't get to her, the Nightsisters will."

"Nikaede, prep for take off. Set coords for Dathomir." Drake rolled his eyes, listening to the Wookiee's profuse reprimands. "Nikaede, noh pethcuk, ke'dem!"

Lowering her weapon for the first time, the Wookiee bawled a furious curse to the ceiling and retreated into the corridor.

"What did she say? I didn't understand the last part," Tiaja said.

Drake got to his feet, still wrapped in the sheet and draped the end over Tiaja's shoulder. "She said ke'dem. It's the closest translation to Socorran a Wookiee can say."

"Ke'dem?"

"It's the word the old Bronwen on my planet use for someone who is condemned."

"She's still afraid of me." Tiaja laid her head on his bare chest.

"Her instincts have kept me alive on more than one occasion." Drake shuffled into his pants and sat down on the bed to pull on his boots. "She'll warm up to you like I did. Promise."

Tiaja knelt down in front of him. "You've never been afraid of me."

Drake snorted. "Sometimes Socorrans don't know when they should be afraid." He took her scarred hand and tenderly kissed her palm. "That's what keeps us in trouble."

~ ~ ~

Located in the Quelii sector in the Outer Rim, Dathomir was a large, temperate planet that dominated four moons within a shared orbit. But Drake knew the perils of the world from stories told among smugglers who had the misfortune of dropping shipments to free-trading outposts on the planet's surface.

Beyond the high security walls and electrified fence, most of the planet remained unexplored and feral, as wild as it was when the first settlers arrived. As testament to that wildness, a band of shear mites attacked a trio of militia on speedbikes as they pulled into the outpost's gate.

Armed with heavy blasters and rifles, the guards shot at the gigantic ticks. As Drake flew over the battle, he saw one of the guards taken down by a spray of acidic saliva. To keep their companions from being overrun, an armored sentinel used a flamethrower to kill the invading insectoid and hold the rest at bay.

An inhospitable world to organic life, Drake could not imagine why anyone would attempt to make a living there. But as he flew over the settlement, the cultivated fields around the perimeter made it clear why. Dathomirian herbs were unique, unlike any in the known galaxy. One season's yield was worth the risk, allowing the hardy inhabitants to live comfortably between growing seasons, rather than taking up smuggling to make ends meet.

Banking the Steadfast over the makeshift docking pads within the security fence, Drake saw a large crowd of people gathered by what appeared to be a municipal building in the center of the outpost. "What's that all about?"

"That's where the outpost manager asks us to assemble," Tiaja replied, sitting behind him. "Usually when there's bad news. I hope it's not too late.

~ ~ ~

On the wall of the municipal building, a screen fluttered. It was in desperate need of repair. Dathomir's humidity had wreaked havoc with the internal circuitry, causing the images to float, fade, and then go black for brief periods of time. The outpost manager, a Human man with a receding hair line and an expanding stomach, banged his fist against it until the images cleared. Usually the place where wanted posters were broadcast, the terminal revealed the images of five children, all girls, ranging in age from 7 to 15 standard years.

The crowd gathered in front of the terminal simmered between anger, despair, and sorrow. Hands in the air, the outpost manager called for calm. "We're doing everything in our power to find these missing girls."

"They're not missing," a woman cried. "We know where they are, and we need to round up enough guns to go get them." The crowd cheered for her.

"Quiet down, Rafferta!" said a man beside her. "You know damn well what happened to the last crew that went into those caves. They never came back. What good will that do us? We need to offer a trade for the girls. They're mercenaries."

"They're cultists!" the woman retorted. "There's no bargaining with them. They're insane. We need to wipe them all out."

"People, listen," the manager cried. "Not all Nightsisters are evil."

Recognizing a short, lanky man at the back of the crowd, Tiaja punched him in the face. She held onto his tunic to keep him on his feet so that she could nail him a second time. "You back-stabbing bilge rat!" She snatched the Tusken Cycler Rifle slung at his shoulder and struck him with the butt. "I ought to kill you!"

Nose broken and bloodied, the farmer fell to his knees, hands raised in a plea for mercy. Tiaja drew the lightsaber from her rijani war skirts and struck him a fourth time with the cylindrical hilt.

"Nightsisters not evil?" the woman scoffed, pulling a shawl tighter about her neck. "Tell that to Geerd."

The metallic clicking of blasters and blast rifles brought an abrupt silence to the assembly. Drake grabbed Tiaja's hand, careful to lock her wrist and prevent her from igniting the lightsaber. "That's enough. Nik?"

His first mate quickly interceded. Dragging the groveling Human away by the collar, the Wookiee leveled her bowcaster at the citizenry that had her captain in their sights.

"W-wait, wait, hold your fire. She's not one of them. Not anymore," Geerd pleaded. "She was born in this outpost." He gasped, coughing as he struggled to breathe through his ruined nose. "Her sister's one of the missing girls—Jani."

"Tiaja Moorn?" the outpost manager asked. "You've been gone—"

"Five years!" Tiaja screamed, struggling in Drake's embrace. "I became one of them to keep the Nightsisters away from my sister. Every credit I made, I sent back here for Geerd to take care of her, and look what you've done!" She tried to break free, but Drake held her back. "I will get my sister back, and I'll kill anyone who stands in my way!"

"We'll have no threats, Tiaja," the manager scolded. "I knew your folks. May the Force be with them. Can't have you roughen up folks. There's enough bad blood to go around. Let's talk in my office."

A YZ-900 cargo freighter arced in the air above the outpost. Its landing lamps flashed intermittently as the pilot searched for a suitable place to land. Recognizing the Stale Clout, Drake relaxed his hold on Tiaja's wrist. "That's my contact. If I don't meet him, he might leave. Go have a word with the outpost manager. Tell him we have a plan, a crazy one, but if it works we can solve his problems for good." He turned her around to face him and kissed her. "Don't kill anybody. Please?"

Supported by the Wookiee, Geerd staggered to his feet. "I'm sorry, Tiaja. We were trading with the Singing Mountain Clan. Jani was playing with a—"

"Don't speak to me!" Tiaja screamed, lunging at him. "You were supposed to watch over her!"

"Tiaja!" Drake growled. He took the lightsaber from her and shoved it down into his boot. Handing her a small, hold out blaster, he wrapped her fingers around it. "The plan, remember?"

"Get out of my sight!" she shouted at Geerd, startling him. "I never want to see you again!" Hands balled into fists, she stormed into the outpost manager's office.

~ ~ ~

The Trade Outpost's cantina was a refurbished greenhouse with barely enough space to house twenty patrons. A shabby, piecemeal bar, chairs, and a few tables crowded the diminutive taproom.

Among dirty-nailed farmers and scavengers, Densin Morgellep stood out. Dressed in cargo pants, a gray shirt, and a brown flight jacket, the Corellian wore a pair of thick, mirrored blast goggles pulled up over his forehead. An explosives expert, he was rarely without them, employing the goggles for protection from the volatile, signature compounds he used.

"Doaba ol'val tru, Captain Morgellep," Drake said, offering his hand. He motioned for Nikaede to take the seat beside him.

"The Little Prince of Socorro," Densin replied. Hailing from the southern hemisphere of Corellia, his voice betrayed a subtle, colloquial accent. A middle-aged man with a thin beard, graying near the chin, he grinned mischievously and rubbed a gloved hand through his closely cropped hair. "It's good to see you, too, Nikaede." He laid a small black box on the table and pushed it in front of the Wookiee.

Opening the lid, Nikaede bawled in sheer delight, her nostrils flared as the scent of the hot Rishii honey stix wafted to her nose. She grabbed one of the treats and bit into it, cooing her thanks to the smuggler.

"Uh-huh? See who's always got you covered?" Densin said. "You need to come work for a captain who can always provide you with the better things in life." He sat back in the booth and winked at Drake.

"Would you stop trying to steal my first mate," Drake complained. He signaled the barkeep for service. "Nikaede has an allergy to things that go boom."

Densin held his hands up to protest. "That's not what your most recent order tells me."

"Were you able to get what I need?"

Offended by the question, Densin frowned and rolled his eyes. "Of course, I did. Sixteen premium thermal detonators, hand crafted for maximum spread and output. Why do you need so many? Two or three would do the job. Are you trying to bring down a mountain?"

"Something like that." Drake sat smugly back in his chair. "Raava, if you've got it," he said to the waiter droid. "Bring the bottle."

"You're planning to bring down a mountain?"

"The Nightspider Clan stronghold. I intend to finish what the Empire didn't." Drake poured the raava into their glasses.

Densin leaned across the table. "Are you insane? Messing with Nightsisters is like conjuring the devil himself."

"Didn't know you were a believer, Densin."

"The only thing I believe in is profit."

"Ah, and there it is. The only religion Corellians commit to... money."

"You're damn right, Paulsen. And rededicating my efforts to staying alive long enough to spend it," Densin countered.

"I'm insane because I intend to blow up a mountain or the fact that I'm doing it and there's no profit in it?" Before Densin could answer Drake fired, "Those Nightsisters are abducting little girls. Dragging them to the bottom of that mountain stronghold and feeding them to spiders in the hopes of reincarnating their dead sisters. That's insanity. And these people are helpless to stop it. So yeah." Drake sat back and relaxed. "I plan on ending that by bringing the mountain down on their heads."

"I always knew Socorrans were a bit touched by the sun. Just tell me. What are you getting out of it?"

There was a change in the air as the cantina door slid open and Tiaja walked in. Spying Drake in conversation, she subtly nodded to him and went to the bar.

Densin's eyes widened in recognition. Eyeing her as if appraising a Mandalorian's beskar helm, he grinned. "Ah, I see. Lovely, but she's a bit tall for you, don't you think?"

"Her sister is one of the little girls the Nightsisters abducted."

Running a finger across his lips in pensive thought, Densin bowed his head and sighed. "How can I help?"

~ ~ ~

Leaving Nikaede to play a round of sabaac with Densin, Drake took his glass and his bottle of Socorran Raava and went to the bar to join Tiaja. She coolly regarded him as he handed her lightsaber back.

"Relax," he whispered as she cast malevolent gazes into the far corner. Geerd had followed her into the cantina, keeping his distance, but looking to her as if awaiting forgiveness. A penance that would never come in her current state of mind.

"I hate him," she said, wrapping her hand around the lightsaber so tightly her knuckles cracked.

Drake leaned his back against the bar and propped his elbows behind him. "When I first saw you that night in the Mos Eisley cantina, I saw a beautiful woman who had a few too many, drowning her sorrows in the bottom of a bottle. We've all been there. But I figured if I plied you with a bit more booze and turned on my irresistible Socorran charm, I might get lucky and have the pleasure of your company for the evening."

Tiaja's scowl fell away. She laughed, tilting her head to the side. "Really?"

"When I woke up the next morning, you were gone, and I was glad." He drank from his glass, savoring the sweet aftertaste of the raava. "Socorran's aren't very good with goodbyes. You did me a favor when you left. But then I saw you again in the alley behind the cantina, being harassed by those thugs. When that Devaronian grabbed your arm, I decided to win you again by playing hero."

"You took a punch in the face for your troubles." Tiaja laughed, moving closer to him. "And then you broke his nose."

"Right after you broke his partner's jaw. And we spent another very pleasant evening together. This time when I woke up, you were asleep on my shoulder." He ran his fingers along her arm. "I couldn't have been happier."

Anxiously pulling at her lower lip, she laughed. "Remember when that Tusken Executioner abducted you in the Jundland Wastes?"

Drake let out a long, exacerbated sigh. "I still have nightmares. She wanted me for a mate. But you challenged her to a duel to get me back."

"Nikaede was going to spike her Jawa beer," Tiaja recalled. "I wasn't sure if I could win that fight."

"But you didn't let Nik drug her, and you did win."

Her smile faded, and she stared into her glass. "You think I've judged Geerd too harshly?"

"I know you have. Just like I made judgments about you the first time I laid eyes on you." Drake set his glass down on the counter. "Give him a chance to redeem himself. We're going to need all the help we can get in the tunnels. Besides, I've got the perfect job for an old bilge rat like him."

~ ~ ~

Sheltering beneath a camouflage tarp, Drake peered over a rocky escarpment into the entrance of the Nightspider Clan's mountain stronghold. "Comm check," he whispered.

Nikaede responded with a low growl over the channel. Hidden in the darkness, the Wookiee and Geerd were waiting on the opposite side of the cave mouth. Her job was to trigger a distraction, drawing the majority of the Nightsisters out of their stronghold. The distraction would lead them on a reckless chase, while Drake and Tiaja spearheaded an assault to the bottom of the caves.

"Standing by, Drake," Densin said from the safety of the Steadfast. Smaller and more maneuverable than the YZ-900, he held the modified freighter in position behind a cloud bank in the atmosphere to monitor the operation. When the explosives were in place, he would trigger them remotely, burying the tunnels for all time.

"Alright, it's now or never," Drake said. "Nik, light it up."

Positioned twenty meters away from the entrance to the cave, an explosion shattered the night's silence. As the Nightsisters rallied to defend their home, a second blast sent violent tremors through the ground. The detonation launched rocks and debris into the air. Jagged shrapnel rained back down on them as they searched for the source of the assault. A third blast brought them out of the cave in droves. They mounted up on dilapidated swoops, the glow of their energy bows and lances casting a bizarre orange haze in the night air.

Engines revving, two speederbikes took off and sped in opposite directions: one to the west toward a Science Outpost and the other south toward an abandoned Imperial Prison. Drake watched the Nightsisters give chase, swarming from the cave like infuriated shear mites.

The figures at the controls were actually reprogrammed mining droids, wearing cloaks to mask their identities. As the decoys sped off, Drake counted thirty Nightsisters in pursuit, leaving a score behind to guard the caves.

Popping the restraint over his blaster, he pulled the heavy weapon from its holster and turned to Tiaja with a grin. "Just like we did at the Tusken Fort."

She ignited her lightsaber, and together, they sprinted into the mouth of the cave.

There was one way to deal with Nightsisters: hard and fast, hit-and-then-run, or so the old timers in the Black Bha'lir advised. Though he was fast with a blaster and accurate, Tiaja was faster, and more lethal with her lightsaber. The cave entrance was nestled at the bottom of a slope that spiraled downward in a continuous 45-degree incline. Drake kept his weight over his heels and slid down into the yawning stony mouth.

Six Nightsisters were waiting for them. Tiaja somersaulted through the air, dropping down on them with her lightsaber before they could fire a single arrow. The remaining four turned on her. Drake took aim and fired, blasting two of them to give the mercenary the space she needed to maneuver.

One of the white-painted warriors scored a hit with an energy lance. Grazing Tiaja's shoulder, the polearm crackled with an electrical field and left her momentarily stunned. She cried out, the hiss of the lightsaber covering her gasp of surprise and pain. Drake shot the assailant in the chest.

A blast from a bowcaster dropped the remaining archer. As the Wookiee covered him, Geerd began planting the charges along the tunnel walls and hiding them beneath rock and gravel. Leaving them to the task, Drake descended farther into the cave at a cautious run, led into the darkness by torchlight and a lightsaber.

The terrain remained unrelenting with steep, undulating slopes that led ever downward into the heart of the mountain. Altered by wind, blaster fire, and the fierce glow of a lightsaber, the shadows flickered erratically. Drake narrowed his eyes, trying to keep his eye on prospective targets as Tiaja swept through the Nightsisters in a tidal wave of rage.

He dropped a would-be assailant sneaking up behind her, drawing the notice of the fallen lancer's companions. Moving faster than expected, one of them fired an arrow at him. The plasma head caught him in the neck, grazing the skin as the impact slammed him into the natural rock wall. The second Nightsister charged him with her lance. Abruptly, her head snapped back, blood trickling from her forehead, and she fell dead at his feet.

Drake looked farther up the path and saw his first mate carrying Geerd's Tusken rifle. She worked the bolt and slammed another cartridge into the breech. Behind her, Geerd knelt down, securing another thermal detonator under a rocky ledge. They all paused at the sound of high-pitched screams reverberating from farther down inside the cave.

"Jani!" Tiaja drove her lightsaber through the remaining Nightsister and sprinted down into the tunnels.

Drake ran after her, less surefooted on the path as a slippery, sticky film covered the lower tunnels. Repulsed, he carefully made his way through the build up of webbing. "Tiaja, the spiders—"

Before he could finish his warning, a glistening thread of silk wrapped itself around Tiaja's wrist. She screamed as the acid in the web burned her. Spinning the lightsaber in an abrupt arc, she cut through it and desperately removed the acidic strands before they could cause further injury.

Scowling, she leaped from the upper path across a ten-meter span to engage the broodling. Slicing off one leg, she held her hand out. Without touching the spider, she slammed it backwards into a wall and held the beast until its hardened carapace cracked and splintered. The creature's innards seeped out through the stress fractures as it quivered in its death throes.

"Jani!" Taiaja screamed in the hollow of the lower cavern.

"Tiaja?" a little voice squeaked. It came from beneath a granite outcropping of rock that was too small for the spiders to access.

The body of a broodling blocked the small hole, which was covered by a crumbling mound of rocks. The arachnid had clearly tried to press itself into the rift and had injured itself in the attempt. Through the dust and debris, a small arm reached out. Tiaja grabbed the child's hand, pulling the girl into her arms. "Jani, are you hurt? Were you bitten? How did you get away?"

No older than seven or eight standard years, Jani looked back into the hole. "You said to always be aware of my surroundings. So when the Nightsisters brought us down here, I hid." Her hair was knotted in neatly tied bundles across her head. "I knew you'd come." She wrapped her arms around the Tiaja's neck. "I used the dreams like you taught me. Uncle Geerd, you came to rescue me, too?"

Geerd stared at Tiaja, but made no reply.

"Paulsen, in the event of your death, what happens to your ship?" Densin asked over the comm. "The Steadfast is something of a legend. I wouldn't mind adding her to my stable."

"Why do you ask?" Drake questioned, fearing the reply.

"Those Nightsisters caught the droids. They know they've been duped, and they're on their way back to the stronghold. Fast."

"How long have we got?"

"Four, maybe five minutes."

"Time to go," Drake said to Tiaja.

Nodding, Tiaja rubbed the grime from her sister's face. "Jani, where are the other girls?"

Jani shook her head. "When the torches went out they ran, and the spiders got them. I got away because—" Her eyes went wide. "Belia!" She ran to the body of a grotesque repto-mammalian creature laying on the stone floor. "Belia, wake up!" She threw herself onto the corpse of a juvenile rancor. The beast would have stood four-meters tall, dwarfing Nikaede, and yet it was only half the size of the full-grown rancors that inhabited the planet.

Still clutching three of the spider's legs, the rancor's hand was bloody and distended, the spider's fangs still protruding from its skin.

"Now we know what killed that spider," Drake said.

"We were playing in the fields near the Singing Mountain Clan when the Nightspider Sisters attacked." Jani's tears smeared the dirt on her face. "She followed them here and tried to save me."

A chittering noise echoed from farther down inside the mountain. Drake felt his skin crawl as the noise grew louder and closer. "Reinforcements." He picked up the bereft child and gave her to Nikaede. "Get her out of here before those Nightsisters arrive."

"Belia! We can't leave her!" Jani wailed, reaching out for the rancor.

"She's dead, Jani," Geerd said. "We'll be dead too, if we stay here any longer."

Tiaja stood facing the shadows rising in the back of the cavern. Holding her lightsaber in her left hand, she stared at the scars on her palm. "Never again," she whispered.

"You coming?" Drake asked.

"Right behind you."

~ ~ ~

Clutching Jani in her arms, Nikaede hurried up the sloped tunnel path toward the entrance. Geerd went ahead of her when a Nightsister moved into the tunnel to intercept them. As he took a knee and fired off a round, killing her, a second one came around the corner and shot him with a plasma arrow. Before he could reload, she struck him in the face with her bow, knocking the man off balance and over the edge.

Nikaede headbutted the warrior and with a kick to the groin, launched her into the ravine after him.

"Uncle Geerd!" Jani screamed.

Drake reversed course to go back down into the cavern. Tiaja grabbed him by the sleeve. "There's no time," she said. "We have to get Jani out of here. Tell your smuggler friend to blow the detonators."

Drake bit his lip. There was no arguing. They were out of time. "Densin, stand by to detonate the first charge."

"Drake," Densin replied, "there's a remote chance the first charge could detonate the second and the third and so on. The deal was to blow them when you were clear."

Green and purple, covered with stiff black hair and pustules, a pair of broodlings raised their heads above the rocky ledge, using their spinnerets to haul themselves up on fragile strands of webbing.

Drake fired his blaster, severing one thread, but three others shot up from the bottom of the ravine. "Densin, trigger the first charge! Now!"

The initial blast sent a cloud of shrapnel and rock debris upward into the tunnels, pelting and chipping the walls. Soon after, the second and third devices went off, bringing the mountain crashing in on itself.

As subsequent explosions rocked the stronghold, Drake and Tiaja emerged from the mouth of the cave as the tunnel collapsed behind them. Sitting at the top of the steep slope, the Steadfast was a welcomed sight. Emergency and landing lights on full to cancel out the darkness, the YT-1300's main cannons were powered up and set on auto, waiting for a target to come within range.

Cradling a T-21 rifle in his arms, Densin came down the ramp. "Anybody need a lift?"

A seismic tremor shook the ground, and with an explosion of rock, a dark, gigantic figure burst through the cascade of fallen debris at the entrance of the cave. Fearing the spiders had found a way through, Drake turned his blaster on the massive shadow loping from the stony tomb.

"Belia!" Jani shouted. "Uncle Geerd!"

Carrying, a wide-eyed and frightened Geerd over its shoulder, the rancor calf cantered up the slope on all fours and bellowed a challenge into the night.

"I knew you couldn't be dead!" Jani jumped down from Nikaede's embrace and leaped into the rancor's arms. "And you saved my Uncle Geerd. Good girl!"

"Now that's something you don't see everyday," Densin said, propping the T-21 over his shoulder. "Sorry to interrupt, but may I suggest a hasty retreat?"

"Nik, open the cargo bay doors," Drake said, retreating up the ramp to the cockpit. He stared at the rancor and the little girl riding it. "I hope that thing's housebroken."

~ ~ ~

Within the safety of the Trade Outpost security fence, Geerd gritted his teeth and groaned. Nikaede stabilized his broken arm and placed it in a sling. Standing at the foot of the Steadfast's ramp, Drake kept vigil over his first mate, while warily observing a crowd of Nightsisters from the Singing Mountain Clan gathered outside the gate. A dozen, heavily armed guards held the perimeter, keeping them from coming into the compound.

The fifty armed warriors were enough to make them nervous, but the juvenile rancor running back and forth across the only road into the outpost did not help. Jani giggled, running in between the creature's massive legs as it gently tried to herd her.

"Corellian Ole Rye Whiskey," Densin said, handing Geerd a silver flask. "I think you need this more than I do. Won't kill the pain, but after a few sips you won't care about it anymore."

"Thank you." Geerd drank from the flask, grimacing at the numbing sensation that followed. "That rancor saved my life. Broke my fall. When the first charge went off, it jumped up, grabbed me, and started running. With those spiders right on its heels." He wiped a bloody hand across his forehead. "I'll never be able to look at a rancor and feel the same way again."

"Most of the creatures on this planet are acidic or venomous," Densin said, tilting his head and shrugging. "I imagine the rancor have developed certain immunities. Still, the poison must have paralyzed it temporarily."

Drake tried to take his mind off of Tiaja, who was standing outside the gates, surrounded by members of the Singing Mountain Clan and a dozen full-grown rancors a few meters away.

"Did you know the word belia means beautiful in Old Corellian?" Densin asked. "If you can afford to feed the beast, she might make a good first mate."

"Nice try, Densin." Drake chuckled. "But I already have a first mate, and no, you can't have her."

"Worth a try." The Corellian offered his hand. "This has been an unexpected pleasure, Little Prince."

Drake withdrew his hand, staring at the credit chit Densin had slipped him. The same chit he had given the smuggler to pay for the explosives. "You working for free these days?"

"Depends on the customer. I've learned my lesson—some things are more important than profit." He glanced at Jani playing with the rancor calf. "Clear skies, Drake. Farewell, Nikaede. Remember, if you ever want to serve under a real captain, you know how to find me."

The Wookiee waved a cursory farewell, following behind the medical techs as they transported Geerd to the outpost infirmary.

Working his way through the line of guards, Drake stepped through the security checkpoint to find Tiaja. Before he could get two steps beyond the gate, he was swept into Belia's arms. As Jani sang a lullaby from the creature's neck, the rancor rocked him from side to side.

"Jani!" Tiaja shouted, trying to keep her composure among the Nightsisters, "please have Belia put Drake down. And stop teaching her bad habits. If we're going to live in peace with the Traders in the outpost, we can't have rancor scooping people up and hugging them."

"Yes, big sister."

The rancor put Drake gently back down on the ground and then loped to the crowd of Nightsisters and their mature mounts. The elder rancors greeted the juvenile with throaty bellows that reverberated in the night. Their handlers stood beside them, waiting expectantly.

Tiaja walked away from them, but the closer she came to him, the farther she seemed to be. Drake put his hands on his hips and stared at the ground. "I've seen that look before," he said, "usually when my father was going on a long job and had no intention of taking me with him."

Tiaja anxiously patted her thighs, pretending to adjust her war skirts. "The Nightspider Clan is in disarray, and the Singing Mountain Clan intends to keep it that way. I want to help them. This is my home, Drake. I belong here."

Swallowing his disappointment, he replied, "I understand."

Looking into his eyes, Tiaja cupped his face in her hands. "This galaxy is held together by the most fragile of threads. Severing one risks breaking others. But there are some bonds that can never be cut." She kissed him, brushing her lips against his for a prolonged moment. "I know..." she whispered, running her hand through his curls one last time. "Socorrans aren't very good with good byes." Caressing his cheek, she turned and walked away.

The sun was coming up over the hills, turning the night skies purple, then lavender. Heartbroken, Drake stared at the horizon until it grew blurry. Returning from the infirmary, Nikaede stood by him. She put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed, requesting his orders.

"Feeling a little homesick, partner," he replied to her question. "Set a course for Socorro."