STAR WARS - INTERLUDE SEVEN
"Sequel to Interlude One," written by Scott Bower and edited by Mark L. Stinson

THE BATTLE

I was hoping that it would be an easy mission bringing in the five recruits...but FIRST we ran into a party of TG's which we were just about to finish off and THEN that damn hound came out of nowhere giving our Jedis' agility a run for its money. Before we could help them out these two Hindar Clan weapons-masters were all over us like two whirling dervishes. The elder of the two was engaging the five rebels while Ranar and I took on the younger (but larger) of the two. He had to be almost 7' tall, and though lightly armored, his quickness made it hard to get more than a glancing blow through his defenses. He wielded a chainsword in his right hand and a gravmace in his left. In what could only be described as a lethal dance of death, we wove our weapons in deadly arcs, trading blow for blow upon each other's weapons. It was an effort that required total and complete concentration. He finally caught me in my left arm with a vicious blow with his chainsword knocking me to my knees. He roared an evil laugh of celebration...but Ranar is a warrior unaccostomed to missing an opportunity. The Hindar Clansman had left an opening, and Ranar delivered a massive blow to the side of the Hindar's head with his sword. Ranar loomed over him, preparing to strike a finishing blow...when the dark-clad warrior began pleading for mercy. Ranar's Code of honor made him hesitate for a moment, and the cursed Hindar flashed up with crushing blow to Ranar's chest...dropping him like a rock. With another laugh the Hindar rose above him to deliver a finishing blow of his own with his chain sword. My mass pistol removed his head from his shoulders...and he fell stiffly sideways like a large tree cut off at its base. I rushed to Ranar and checked his wounds. He grimaced in pain with every breath but there was no tell-tale gurgling denoting a punctured lung . Probably a broken rib or two...nothing Morgan and a little rest wouldn't cure. By the Tower where was Morgan! In the fury of battle I had neglected to watch over him...

Morgan's cry for help echoed from a nearby alley, and I immediatly feared the worst. I rushed toward the alley and was joined by Quinn, but the allety was empty. Quinn closed his eyes and his head tipped backwards. "They're on the roof of this building...he barely escaped a great evil...." Quinn opened his eyes, and we scrambled up a nearby ladder to find Morgan with a lacerated leg and 3 of the rebels...all of them wounded. Morgan was in and out of consciousness, but was still able to recount his encounter with a dark shade. We retreated with our wounded to The Gutter to recover from our battle, somehow we had not lost a single man...while the Hindar Clan had lost two weapon-masters and four Twilight Guardmen had been seriously compromised.

LATER THAT NIGHT

My senses shocked me awake. Someone had entered our room and was moving towards Morgan's cot! I slowly turned my head toward the figure and made out the outline of Wala as she moved up to his sleeping form. She called his name in a desperate hushed voice...shaking him vigorously. He must have been deeply asleep for it took a long time for Wala to wake him. Upon waking they exchanged whispers and Morgan was almost dragged from his resting place from our sleep area. I rose quietly so as not wake the others and followed the two healers.

I soon found myself at the doorway to the bar peering through a crowd at the obviously mortally wounded body of Father Tradeau. Even in a high-tech Fendora Bengala medical facility it would be tough to save his life. Morgan's chanting grew louder and I could feel the hair on the back of my neck stand on end as an aura of power permeated the very air in the room. The next thing I knew Ton-Kimble sprang forward to catch Morgan's collapsing form. Morgan slowly stood and Ton ushered everyone from the room, except Morgan and Walla He gave me a nod and he turned and moved back into the room. Morgan again started his chant and Tom-Kimble's voice joined his...and a wave of warmth washed over me. Time seemed to stand still as I eavesdropped, and then it was over. Beyond Morgan's trembling body, I could see Father Tradeau's chest rising and falling rhythmically. I said to myself, "Yes Master, this one is worthy of all that I can give. He has grown so much in strength during this past year...does he still need me to protect him every moment? I wonder...."

I crept back to my cot and reflected on what I had beheld. When Morgan came in I pretended I had just woke and acted groggy. "Where have you been?" He mumbled an answer and told me to get some sleep, so I rolled over to allow him his humility and let myself fall into the comforting embrace of the living Force.