Subject: [OTL]: (alt. Betsy/Star Wars) Fanged Butterfly 2: Knightcross 36/? (R) From: Phil Hartman Date: Sun, 13 Apr 2008 19:43:22 +0000 will1@earthling.net Fanged Butterfly Vol. 2: Knightcross Chapter 36 by Phil Hartman DISCLAIMER: Marvel's are Marvel's. LFL's are LFL's. Any original characters are mine. The rest belong to their owners/creators. No money is being made off of this. Please don't sue. WARNING: Themes, imagery. ------------------------------------------------------- 40 ABY: En Route to Csilla, Chiss Ascendancy, Unknown Regions, Galactic Far North: 25 Days after the Battle of Corellia: ------------------------------------------------------- Was Betsy ... antsy? Or should that be flitgnatsy? #Bloody likely on both counts ...# she pondered, stretching as she savored awakening in her own bed; she hadn't wanted to ask or know what Daala and Liegius had done in here ... The sheets had been run through the sanitizer several times. At least two of those had been by Daala; always leery of leaving DNA traces ... Betsy had run them the other three times. Of course she had FRESH sheets on the bed, but still ... one could never be too careful with Daala. For that matter, who knew if Liegius had laced the other set of sheets with microholocams? It was an occasionally happy irony that Betsy's time as a STRIKE agent had served her in a better capacity than her X-Men skills, by and large, in the GFFA. #Oh, the ninja combat and telepathic skills have their place ... but I opened more doors with my acting skills than by lockpicking,# Betsy recalled, smiling faintly. Well, at least on Nar Shaddaa ... which, if she wasn't careful, might be where she ended back up at, in less than ideal conditions ... #10 million. *I'D* be tempted to turn myself in for that kind of money,# Betsy admitted, ashamed a bit at the unJedi thought ... Gardulla was going to be very disappointed if she thought Betsy was going to be an easy catch. On the other hand, Betsy had Ben to think about. That was why she was wearing a shift, as well as underwear, to bed. And a robe to breakfast ... It was a good thing that Neal was so incorruptible. If he had Artoo's recording fetish, Betsy might have been facing MUCH more blackmail material than that strill story from Mandalore. She giggled, embarrassed but bemused, and thought that no, she wasn't a textbook Jedi. But she was accepted, with friends as close as any she'd made among the X-teams, living a dream almost any Terran would give choice bits of their anatomy for. And Betsy wasn't expected to give up as much as a toe. #I've angered a Hutt, befriended the Skywalkers and Solos, have a starship and a loyal droid of my own ... and a lightsaber. THAT is bloody COOL,# Betsy thought, grinning. WHY was she so ... giddy, with the odds against her as they were? The little promise of Earth's hyperspace coordinates MIGHT have something to do with it ... #But can I justify grabbing the brass ring and flying off into the Unknown Regions? Certainly not with Ben, Artoo and Threepio entrusted to me ... # Betsy thought, looking at the chrono. She REALLY needed to find a planet, reset her body clock, and rest; it was 02:23, for kriff's sake. Resetting a body clock required lots of sun. Meaning Mon Cal. And buttfloss. Well, for HER; Ben wasn't likely to wear less than shorts. But after his ... ease with himself after being Shaped, then reverting to human ... who knew what he'd wear to swim in? Did HE know? #He needs a chance to sort things out. And I am NOT going to risk him; if we got to Earth and everyone thought us mad, he'd suffer for my sake. I love him too much to put him at risk like that,# Betsy thought fiercely. It wasn't the disturbing undercurrent she had felt with Doug; she had Ganner ... and maybe Raynar ... or Kyp ... for such needs. Alone in the dark, Betsy could admit that ... she didn't see Ben as an apprentice. She loved him like a son, and he adored her, as not quite an aunt, but not challenging his legitimate bond with Mara. Betsy refused to do what Jacen had done, and steal Ben. That term, son of my heart, was far better for what she felt for Ben ... and K'urod. Betsy smiled happily; she had sons, if she was willing to take the long view. And she recalled Jean's labor difficulties, and no, Betsy wasn't missing the miracle of birth quite so badly. After the stop at Csilla, Betsy was taking her adorably motley crew, hitting Mon Cal like a Force wave, and letting them all rest. And maybe turning Artoo loose at the sabaac tables. That droid had a MEAN sense of how to play. After all, Betsy couldn't well turn HERSELF in for that bounty ... and a woman needed some money in addition to her expense account from the Order. She decided the first thing she'd buy was whatever kind of swimsuits Ben wanted for himself. The nice thing about being an aunt, as opposed to a mother, was that she could spoil her nephew. And as a Master, she could excuse such extravagance as necessary training expenses. She drifted off, smiling, and almost felt Mon Cal sun on her shoulders, almost heard Ben splashing in the surf. Definitely not textbook Jedi. But very much Aunt Betsy. ------------------------------------------------------- Ben stirred, grateful for another night without horror, and looked around the cabin, not getting up. Artoo was sitting by the acceleration couch; Threepio was shut down; and Neal was keeping watch as they headed toward Csilla. He was getting used to sleeping with a sheet, the couch doubling as a comfortable mattress, Aunt Betsy's black and white striped stuffed Ewok toy as a pillow ... Ben *liked* this, the ... calm, the quiet. He could be a Jedi; he could be a nephew; he could be an adventurer ... he could just BE. He could be a goofy teen, or oddly grown up, watched by someone who tolerated his quirks and weird moments and panic attacks ... Aunt Betsy was so accepting. She didn't let Ben get away with stupid stuff, but he was GLAD of some limits; Jacen had let Ben get away with really unapprenticelike stuff. Ben was secure, with Aunt Betsy. She was a lot like Mom, but she wasn't so ... worried, like Mom could be. NOBODY would believe Mara Jade worried like she did, but Ben knew she worried, and he loved her for it. It was just a little too much, sometimes. Aunt Betsy gave Ben more room, and she was willing to let him see her ... wacky side. She'd even let him see her weak, and that was an honor, a real one. But Aunt Betsy wasn't trying to steal him, either. Ben really, really appreciated that; she was great, just being an aunt. He blushed a little at how he'd lost it back on Bastion, protecting her from Tarfang. It'd been like he was about to lose a relative ... but no Jedi detachment at all. It was a sign of how far he needed to come from how Jacen had hurt him, Ben knew. He was 14, not 4. He liked the trust and independence he was being shown. But he still needed a safety net. The Council's offer was really kind. Even ... tempting. But Ben still hadn't mastered Jedi control of his feelings. Ben had to admit that he needed to grow up ... to heal ... from not only his betrayal by Jacen, but from what he'd been as Paxis, before he could be Knighted. It was OK to love, to fight to protect loved ones. It wasn't OK to go crazy and panic. Ben had touched the dark side back on Vjun, and come close again on Bastion. He never wanted to go back there. And as much as Aunt Betsy danced along the line, she almost always stayed IN the light. Kind of a purple blur, warm and kind and fun ... but also wise. Ben didn't think purple was his color. But he did want to be the Light of the Jedi ... whatever that meant ... and shine. NOT to be egocentric; Paxis, Prince of the Shaped Ones, had been a spoiled brat, or could've been. Ben knew Paxis had just been him without most limits ... and Paxis' light would've been tainted. Probably red, Ben thought with a shiver of fear. He'd been so spoiled, he'd forgotten his real parents. That HURT, not just Mom and Dad, but Ben, too. And then there was the Phoenix ... that kind of power just SCARED Ben. He was grateful to the ... entity for making him human again, but ... but it'd wanted Ben to do things, to let it free. And he knew enough about the Phoenix now to know that if he did so, it could be as bad as going Sith. Aunt Betsy wouldn't make Ben forget who he was, or let him fall so that he forgot. And she wouldn't make Ben be ... someone not Ben, either. Everything she had told him WAS the truth. It didn't mean that Ben couldn't question. It just meant Ben could trust her not to betray him. He was happy for her being able to find her homeworld, and if it was where Mom was from, maybe they could visit someday. Ben had seen the memory image of his ... grandparents, his Mom's family, and they seemed OK. Not any crazier than Dad's side, at least. And Dad was really a great dad. He CARED, he listened ... Ben missed his parents, all of a sudden, and felt horrible again that he'd ever wanted to forget them. But they'd forgiven him ... and, here in a secure place, Ben could forgive himself. That was why he loved Aunt Betsy so much; she gave Ben permission to be himself, even if he didn't know all of who he was yet. Even if he made mistakes. He drifted off, smiling, and thought of Mon Cal ... but he wasn't sure what he'd wear to the beach. He was comfortable enough now with his body that he might try a swimsuit cut different than shorts. He dreamed of sunshine, and seaspray, and freedom, and Aunt Betsy, out of sight but supportive, and Mom and Dad ... ready to help, but not quite around. And maybe Ysanna Fel on a beachtowel, human. It wasn't really Jedi. But it was Ben. And he was happy with that for now. ------------------------------------------------------- He stirred, as the realspace reversion alarm went off, and Aunt Betsy poked her head out of her bedroom. "Got it," Ben called, turning up the lights and getting up to check where they were - he didn't throw on a shirt, since it was just them and the droids - and watched as the usual tunnel of hyperspace snapped back to realspace, an iceball of a world in the distance. "Ah. Csilla. Sorry for stating the obvious," Ben said, blushing, but Aunt Betsy just radiated kind amusement and left her room, in a robe. "A bit of the obvious never hurt anyone. You get the bathroom first this morning; I'll handle breakfast and Csilla ATC," Betsy said, and Ben thanked her, making his makeshift bed before hitting the refresher. He made sure to straighten the bathroom up; he might be a teenaged guy, but being a slob was just rude, no matter what age you were. He could be a kid, yet, but Ben WOULDN'T be a brat, he promised himself. Combat bodyglove as thermal underwear, Jedi robes, combat belt, hooded cloak ... Cstilla was COLD, he knew. Not Hoth cold, but Aunt Betsy had warned Ben to put on layers. He tried not to take too long, and she thanked him when he got out in only about 15 minutes. By then, they were parked at the edge of Csilla airspace, waiting for their request to land to make it all the way through the Chiss government. By the time Ben finished his dustcrepes and nausage, Aunt Betsy had joined him at the table, her own purple robes a standout against his brown and tan ones. Ben caught a glimpse of the high collar of a combat bodyglove visible at Aunt Betsy's throat beneath her robes, and she nodded. Maybe the Chiss were being honest, at least about the coordinates. Maybe an extra layer of armor never hurt anybody, either. Ben had learned not to blindly trust, after Jacen. It was a little sad ... but again, the good thing about Aunt Betsy was, she didn't ASK Ben to blindly trust her. That why he DID trust her. ------------------------------------------------------- It took maybe a standard half hour for the paperwork to be completed; Betsy figured that was probably why the Ascendancy REALLY never started wars, just finished them. The Chiss were an odd bunch. They were a militarily driven society with a strict code of self-defensive posture, never striking first, yet they left some room in their culture for nonmilitary types. If they were Kree descendants, they were rather different from the Kree Betsy remembered. Some had scoffed at the idea of Chiss with CULTURE, until Betsy pointed out that A. military effectiveness meant SOME liberal arts education, such as history, and B. Thrawn's gift for art appreciation hadn't come out of a vacuum. Various shades of blue skin marked the standard Chiss, with red eyes that glowed, more brightly in higher oxygen levels, and a certain ... demeanor. Not stiffness; Formbi had asked Luke and Mara once what Jedi had against laughter when discussing Jedi training techniques. He obviously hadn't seen much of Jedi when not on business, Betsy thought, smirking. She didn't dislike the Chiss as a species. Nor even for their cool treatment of others, since it wasn't bigotry, just a cultural distance. Rather ... British, actually, minus the accent. They were bloody PARANOID, and had bothered her every time she poked around in the Unknown Regions. Now, at least, Betsy had an idea why; they feared Earth and its massive superhuman population. That, and the Chiss didn't allow their children much time to BE children. They loved them, yes, but the ... stiffness of Jag Fel, a human raised among the Chiss, had proven that the concept of adolesence was foreign to the aliens. Their paranoia and demanding education of younglings were both reasons why Betsy was concerned about bringing Ben with her to Csilla. He was very mature for his age, but he was entitled to being young when and if he needed to be ... and regardess of what they had accomplished on Vjun, he COULD still call on the Phoenix. On the other hand, Formbi had promised safe passage. AND there was the Chiss honor requirement about a deal being a deal; Betsy and Ben had stopped Caedus, Jag had given them the right to claim the prize, and the Chiss owed them. No, Formbi wouldn't dare renege on this IOU. But unlike Mandalore, Betsy was packing enough knives and holdout blasters to fight her way out, and had made sure Ben was doing the same. Ben understood, and shared Betsy's smile as they headed for the capitol city. K'urod had been so different from Betsy that it had taken considerable time for them to reach a level of comfort with nonverbal communication, much less Force speech. Not so with Ben, who was far closer to Betsy from long ago. It was a relief, not having to explain EVERYTHING to one's Padawan all the time. ---------------------------------------------------- The landing had been quiet; Ben had switched Threepio back on, grateful that at least THIS time, Threepio had shut down for routine systems maintenance. He guessed he could understand why Aunt Betsy was so ... short tempered with Threepio; she was like Uncle Han, and even Aunt Leia, like that. Threepio just didn't know how to get a point across the short way, unless he HAD to. But then, he wouldn't be Threepio if he'd been any different, Ben figured. They left Neal on board the Wing; Ben liked the little droid, but he didn't have Artoo or Threepio's personalities. Aunt Betsy was ... more diligent, Lon Shevu would say, about droid maintenance, especially memory wipes. ~I promise not to have Artoo or Threepio wiped,~ Aunt Betsy sent, and Ben both grinned and radiated gratitude at her as she winked while they waited for Formbi in the chilly, thin sunlight on the landing pad. /Thanks. Maybe we can drop them off on Vjun or Ossus before we go to Mon Cal?/ Ben offered, bringing a real smile to Aunt Betsy's face. ~Or just Threepio. Artoo and I get along swimmingly, and I wouldn't want to take him away from you. For that matter, if you REALLY want Threepio to stay ...~ Aunt Betsy offered, and Ben returned her smile. /Nah. Artoo's the cooler one. Threepio's great, but he can bug ME, too, after a while,/ Ben agreed, and Aunt Betsy laughed. ~Well, let's focus on the meeting with Formbi. As before, keep your senses open, read between the lines; I value your input,~ Aunt Betsy sent, and Ben tried not to let pride and gratitude overwhelm him. She meant what she said, but Aunt Betsy also was counting on Ben to THINK, not just be a nusito pup. Another reason he liked being her apprentice, instead of Jacen's. Ben tried not to let the old bitterness well up; and he admitted that it wasn't that old. He wondered if he'd ever be able to be comfortable around Jacen again. But Ben would try, for Tace and Allana's sakes, and for Tenel Ka and Uncle Han and Aunt Leia, and the other Solos. He reached out in the Force and did a visual sweep of the area, using both the training he'd gotten from his Jedi teachers and the GAG, and didn't sense anything out of place ... but Ben was still cautious. It WAS Csilla. Finally, a slightly overweight, middle aged Chiss male pulled up in a landspeeder driven by a 20 something Chiss female, and Ben recognized Aristocra Formbi in the front passenger seat. He waved, and Aunt Betsy led the way, Ben at her right and just behind, the droids behind them. Formbi was shielding as best as a Forceblind sentient could; his aide, even moreso ... Ben wondered if she wasn't Force sensitive herself, and asked Aunt Betsy. He got in after Aunt Betsy did, and she nodded her agreement. ~A valid possibility. Her shields are very good; keep an eye on her,~ she sent, watching the droids load themselves on the back, and they headed off. "Welcome to Csilla, Apprentice Skywalker. We've been looking forward to meeting you in person," Formbi said, and Ben smiled politely; no reason to be rude. "Thank you, sir. Csilla's a beautiful world," Ben said, glad of being able to be honest. There were a lot of buildings, but even with the ice in the distance, there was a kind of ... sharpness that Ben felt comfortable with. He knew what it was: The Chiss warrior ethic, coming through their architecture, just below the surface ... peace through strength, peace MASKING strength. It was a different kind of confidence than what the Mandalorians had, similar but more ... refined. Ben wondered if there was something about the far galactic north that made its peoples ... tough. Like being along the border with the Unknown Regions meant they had to learn to fight or ... die. All of a sudden, Ben felt a little safer wearing a combat bodyglove and a lot of hidden weapons. ---------------------------------------------------- Ben was being cautious and observant, and Betsy approved; they were walking into Force knew what ... The speeder came to a halt at the main Chiss Defense Hierarchy office; Formbi technically wasn't part of the CDH, since he was an ambassador, and kept his family name, but anything to do with the Unknown Regions would involve the Chiss military. Formbi's female aide smiled tightly over her shoulder and said, "What of the droids, Aristocra?" "None of the usual maneuvers, Tsaidan," Formbi said, a warning tone to his voice even if his face betrayed nothing. The aide merely nodded, too professional to indicate if she felt chastized. "Oh, dear," Threepio worried, and Ben felt a little protective, but Betsy reassured the boy; Formbi knew that Jedi would find any sort of tracking or monitoring devices placed on the droids, and if she and Ben kept Artoo and Threepio close, no harm should come to them. "Shall we? I expect a state reception and dinner would be ... irksome, given the haste you showed getting here," Formbi said, finally smiling; back to the politics, Betsy thought, as she and Formbi walked into the building, Ben and the droids close behind. The scream of a weapons scanner started to ring, but Formbi waved the guards back, and said, "They're Jedi, ladies and gentlemen, yes? Lightsabers are expected ..." The guards knew that; Formbi knew the guards knew that. Betsy wasn't amused at the ambassador's efforts to put her and Ben off their guard, but it was Formbi. Chiss so loved these little games. But it was forgivable, coming from them; almost genetic, she suspected, instead of the insufferable malevolence of Imperial politics. They descended in a large elevator, into the bowels of the facility; all the important locations would be below ground, of course ... and the party emerged into the largest circular combat control center Betsy had ever SEEN. It LOOKED like it was large enough to handle comm traffic from across the galaxy; an enormous holo of the entire galactic disk floated at eye level, while tiers of comm stations and illuminated screens lit the otherwise darkened chamber. Once Betsy's eyes had adjusted, she nodded at Formbi, who led them around the edge of the holo ... to what had to be the Unknown Regions. A large circular bracket formed around one tiny star in the same spiral arm as Csilla, and Formbi began to speak, almost ... reverently. And Betsy listened, as even the Force stilled, and Ben focused ... "Thrawn was not the first to find Earth. It was our first purpose for being seeded here, after the genetic changes that allowed us to breathe on lower gravity worlds than our ancestors' native Hala," Formbi began, and Betsy almost quaked. Almost. Showing THAT much weakness was dangerous. "You were Kree," Betsy asked, and Formbi smiled, unusually open and honest. "Many millenia ago ... yes. After the debacle with the Inhumans, in which our ancestors experimented on the Eternal genetic offshoot of your species left behind by the Celestials, Kree scouts found the humans on Coruscant, and panicked. We were set to guard against the spread of humans FROM the Core, to Earth. So, Csilla was seeded with our ancestors," Formbi said, shrugging. He became ... focused as he added, "But the exile was a dishonor in the eyes of the Kree Empire, since our ancestors disagreed with the first strike tactics of the Empire. We had no argument leaving what you know as the Large Magellanic Cloud behind." "Sir, you said prevent the spread of humans FROM the Core. Why?" Ben asked, and Betsy radiated approval at his insight. Formbi chuckled, and looked at Ben approvingly. "Your mother's son indeed. Simple, young Ben. Combine the raw enhanced genetic power of Terran, or Earthling, mutancy with the faster than light capabilities of the Coreward humans ... what the Kree, Skrull and Shi'ar races fear would become reality: Powered humans with the chance to spread like wildfire," he said, turning to Betsy. "No wonder my arrival set off alarms here. You had to know exactly who I was, or at least what my telepathy meant: a Terran mutant coming Coreward was the warning sign of what you feared was invasion," Betsy realized. "If it had been Magnus ... or that brat of a son of his, who sought active mutant colonization of the galaxy ... perhaps. You, at least, act nobly, and consider your deeds," Formbi said, and Betsy gasped - Formbi smiled almost apologetically, nodding. "Yes, Elizabeth. We know FAR more than you might think about the rise of so called superheroes and villains on your little blue world. And you might be surprised at the date, there ... " Betsy tried not to reel, then focused on the last sentence, as Formbi activated a control in the railing around the giant holoprojector. The galactic holo zoomed in on the Sol system ... and Betsy gasped, unable to hide her hope, as EARTH appeared, a blue, white and green marble, growing to the size of a TIE fighter cockpit. Ben squeezed her hand in support, and Betsy smiled at him, as the droids made helpful noises. "You said surprise, at the date," Betsy asked Formbi, and he nodded, waving at a bank of techs to lift the shielding filters from what comm transmissions they were monitoring ... and there was CBNC, CNN, and a few hundred cam shots from around Earth ... which looked ... not terribly dated. "Realtime Holonet like signals?" Betsy asked, drinking in the ... mundanity, of the holoimages from her birthworld. It was like finding a moisture vaparator at the edge of the Dune Sea. "So MANY of those pesky unexplained UFO sightings on your world are Chiss clawcraft adapted with holoshrouds. Quite fun, really. The declining number of UFO sightings in recent years is due to you and your fellow heroes honing your technology; in some ways, you rival us," Formbi said, drawing up a CBNC feed ... and looking ... regretful? Betsy tensed, but Formbi said, "This is going to come as a shock; our physicists scratched their heads themselves, when we determined the date you vanished and the date you appeared on Sernpidal. But ..." The feed resolved into Trish Tilby, of all people - who didn't look like she had aged much at ALL - and Betsy's head rang with alarms as Formbi turned up the audio, translated into Basic for Ben and the Chiss techs' sake: "... the murder and conspiracy trial against Charles Xavier Lehnsherr in the World Court approaches its 17th day, as the X-Men and Excalibur continue to refuse to testify, citing a lack of proof of the death of X-Man and SHIELD operative Lady Elizabeth Braddock during the incident 10 months ago in Antarctica ..." Betsy wobbled; that WAS NOT POSSIBLE ... unless ... Ben supported her, and Betsy pierced Formbi with a dire stare. "I landed on Sernpidal 15 STANDARD YEARS AGO. HOW could it be ... 2008, on Earth!?" Betsy accused ... but she knew the answer. And it stabbed her. Formbi sighed, as Threepio SO unhelpfully chimed in, "Mistress Elizabeth, don't you recall the talk we had on Vjun, about wormhole physics and the potential for time travel?" Betsy drew a deep breath, and Ben said, "Not NOW, Threepio, OK?" "I am sorry, Elizabeth. But we would NOT deny you the facts, not now that the Phoenix has breached our watch of ... our version of Hadrian's Wall, to use a colorful reference from your world," Formbi said, almost kindly, giving Ben a friendly glance. "You landed on Sernpidal 25 years after the Battle of Yavin ... which equates to 1992 A.D. on Earth." "And any possible temporal paradox was eliminated because I wasn't in the same PLACE at the same time. Bloody ... I joined the Jedi Order technically BEFORE I joined the X-Men," Betsy said, trying not to laugh insanely. Bloody HELL. And Bishop's timeshifts made people scratch their heads. "Sir, what about the coordinates for Earth? And if the Chiss are so worried about keeping Core humans away from Earth, then why ... trust us?" Ben asked, feeling guilty until Betsy smiled at him; she wouldn't be angry at Ben for being careful. Formbi laughed, drawing a data chip out of the railing and giving it to Betsy. "As always, a bright lad. Simple, Ben: We have an ulterior motive," the ambassador said, and Betsy and Ben traded a look. Formbi drew the galaxy map back to the galactic scale, and frowned. "Terran humanity is a concern, but honestly ... Hala can go hang. They have become degenerate savages, much like your Rome in its latter days, clinging to the stagnation of the Supreme Intelligence's rule. We Chiss seek to survive, to find a better way .. and we have closer threats than the old country," he said, marking a swath of the Unknown Regions in red, south from Earth. Betsy shook her head clear of the shock of the last few moments, and asked, "That area of space ..." "Is dangerously ... quiet. There are sentient species there, a blend of humanoids, reptoids, even a race of equine bipeds ... but all our efforts to contact or probe too deeply have been turned back. As in, destroyed ships and crews. And with the current chaos among the Confederacy and the GA, and these new Sith, we need to focus on things to our south and east. But if things go awry ... we, and you, may NEED Earth," Formbi warned, leading the visitors to the elevator. Ben looked as if he was about to ask something, and Formbi smiled, adding, "Yes, Ben, the details of your mother's origin are on that chip as well. Thrawn left details for us, despite his exile," Formbi said. "Thanks, sir," Ben said, checking on Betsy through the Force, and she managed a smile as she clutched the chip tight. Everything had changed. But she would stay for Ben, and the others. At least now, Betsy had the directions home. -------------------------------------------------- They left the speeder; the ride had been in silence, and Ben's mind was still racing ... Aunt Betsy was almost 16 years older than when she'd left her Earth, but it was only 10 months since she'd left. He worried for her, suddenly, and she ruffled his heart through the Force. ~My caring nephew. Thank you ... but I think part of me suspected time travel was involved. At least it's not a VAST timeshift. It is still ... going to take time to adjust to,~ Aunt Betsy sent, as they reached the Wing ... They boarded the ship, and Aunt Betsy let Ben take the craft out; he was grateful for the practice, even as he still thought she needed to talk. Well, maybe HE needed to talk. Aunt Betsy smiled at him, and - Neal SQUEALED, as the hyperdrive whined, and Ben panicked, "I didn't set a destination yet!" Aunt Betsy focused, then snarled and leapt up as a voice from behind them teased, "I did." The Jedi spun; it was Formbi's aide, a ysalamir wrapped around her shoulders ... a red blade in her hands. Artoo made the Chiss ... Sith ... shriek as he zapped her, and Neal tried to override the naviputer as the Chiss dropped. But they were gone, and space ... twisted. -------------------------------------------------- tbc ...