Truth

In and out.

The slow, even draw of air into the lungs, in and in and in, and then holding it.

Find that perfect point of equilibrium between the breaths, where everything was still, in quiet balance. Then the tipping point, and over; the breath streaming out in a slow, steady exhale, all the way out, to reach again a moment of stillness, of harmony between the breaths. And the cycle began once more. In and in, hold. Then, out and ever-more slowly out. And all the while, distant but not beyond sensing, he heard a clear chime like a crystal bell that resonated deep down inside his head and into the core of his being. Never growing louder or softer, rising or falling, just a long steady song formed of one single note. It had started the moment he touched that second lightsaber hilt. The moment —

Wide, terrified silver eyes. Gurra's body dragged down into that searing void.

No. No. Don't think about it. Take a long slow breath in. Hold and find the balance. Exhale, steady and even. Let the crystal clear song guide and comfort. Don't think about the look in those silver eyes or the horror in them at that moment of realisation, at the moment of death.

Breathe and breathe and breathe...

But the equilibrium and the harmony were hard to maintain when the memory of the man's brutal death was so close, pressing in against his mind. One breath faltered, then the next, and then not even that crystal chime could keep him steady. Soon his consciousness was rising unbidden back to awareness where a blur of angry voices was waiting for him. The voices and the memories battered against his spirit, eroding Ben's hard-won serenity piece by piece.

"...just want to see him."

"...doing our duty, and I will not be..."

"...an actual murder…"

And one voice, closer by, said:

"I have heard it said only the guilty sleep when they're caught. And look at him!"

"I'm not sleeping," Ben replied, wearily, eyes still closed. "I am trying to think. Or I was, at any rate."

He opened his eyes, and the last fragments of carefully cultivated peace dissolved as he was confronted once again by the crushing gravity of his current predicament. Bound, locked in a cage, and on his way to the City to receive judgment for the crime of murder. He'd been in worse scrapes, even within the limited span of time his truncated memories covered, but there was no denying this one could prove to be rather bad. He hadn't yet had the chance to find out just how bad.

Within moments of Ditto pronouncing him under arrest, four Kheelian guards had come dashing into the vestibule to investigate the cause of the alarms and alerts warning of massive damage to the rear of the train. They had been horrified by the lost carriage and Ditto's report of what he had seen - Ben throwing one of the Jedi to his death between the train cars - and before anything further could be said, Ben had been marched at blaster point up the train to the livestock compartment. Five large empty cages, each a few metres square, stood at the end of the carriage beyond the caprius pens. Ben was searched and his possessions confiscated, holopics taken of face and profile, his hands were locked into binders, and he was incarcerated in the furthest cage.

Thinking positively; the cage at least was spacious and clean, and he wasn't being required to share it with whatever kind of creature it had originally been designed to hold. He had even been given his very own bucket. Delightful. On the downside, however, he was cold and aching, and at least five turns must have passed since he had been locked in the cage, during which time he had seen neither hide nor hair of Shaarm, Pakat nor Ditto. He was starting to worry. He hadn't been asked any questions about what had happened earlier; in fact the Kheelian who had stood guard over him the whole time had refused to speak to him in any language. It was no use even trying to sleep, not while he felt so uncertain and fearful, hollowed out by guilt and pain. Instead, he had tried to calm the fractious emotions by meditation, focussing in on his breathing, guided by that low, constant chime, a soothing tone that sung at the edge of his thoughts.

Well, meditation had been the goal, but the discussion taking place in loud whispers just outside his cell had finally put paid to that as well.

As soon as Ben had spoken, the Kheelian guards had broken off their conversation and now both were watching him, tense, hands on their blasters. The male Kheelian who had been guarding the cell since Ben was brought here was clearly the senior of the pair. He was staring at Ben with a cold disgust but said nothing in response to Ben's statement. The female's expression was unreadable.

"May I ask what time it is?" Ben remained in his cross-legged meditation position, wrists in their binders resting in his lap. The guards were armed and jumpy; he didn't want to accidentally start them blasting by moving or standing up unexpectedly.

"Be quiet," snapped the male Kheelian. "You have caused enough trouble."

"I'm sorry," Ben said, quietly, holding another twist of guilt at bay. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

"Prisoners are not allowed to talk." The Kheelian informed him, curtly.

"I just want to know if my friends are alright," Ben said. "Please."

The pair went back to ignoring him and walked off, moving further down the carriage to continue their discussion. Ben could still hear their voices.

"I cannot get them to leave," said the female.

"You will have to tell her it is not permitted."

"You try telling her! I think they will stand there all night if we do not let them in. Please, Kika. She is driving us insane."

There was a sigh. "Very well." said the male. "But she stays for a quarter turn only. Then send them away, Jebett."

"Yes, anything."

Ben smiled to himself, despite everything. There was only one person he knew who could incite that kind of reaction.

"Ben!"

Shaarm strode in between the caprius pens not two minutes later, Pakat right behind her. The two Kheelian guards trailed along after, clearly ill at ease. At the sight of the cages, Shaarm stopped suddenly, although Pakat didn't hesitate and dashed straight up to the bars.

"I give thanks you are all right, Ben!" Pakat said, grasping the bars with both hands, looking stressed and afraid. Shaarm said nothing to Ben, but looked him over with a fierce, intense gaze.

Ben very much wanted to jump up and lean through the bars too, but he reigned in the impulse and stayed where he was. Remaining still and calm was the only option he currently had to de-escalate the situation. He did cast his own critical eye over both of his Kheelians though, and thanked the Force that they seemed to have come out of the incident in the freight car unscathed.

Shaarm, meanwhile, had turned to the head guard that Ben had heard named as Kika.

"What will happen now?" she said.

"Thankfully we got through to the Lawkeepers just before the storm properly closed in," said Kika, "so officers will be waiting to meet the train when we arrive at the City, and will take the prisoner to the Justice House. Then, I do not know. He will face trial, I suppose, from the Judiciary. No-one has ever been killed on the trains before, not since the war ended. But anyway. You have seen him, so will you please now return to your carriage?"

Shaarm drew herself up. "Now that I have seen him, absolutely not! What sort of conditions are these to hold any creature in? Locked in a freezing cage, no food or water, no bedding and his hands are still in binders for stars' sake! You keep the caprius in better conditions! And I see no-one has even tended to his wounds. He is covered in blood!"

"Madam," protested Kika, sternly. "The pechnar's injuries are superficial, he will—"

"Do not 'madam' me!" Instead of being placated, Shaarm's fury was merely gaining momentum. "So you know all about pechnar physiology do you? Well, I happen to hold twenty-eight academic qualifications in nine separate medical fields, including Xenobiology, and my husband here is Kender district's premiere ecobiologist! We are the specialists in this case, and I tell you your prisoner has a blaster injury; for a being of his size that could easily send him into shock! He could be close to death!"

"He is accused of murder…" Kika protested, weakly.

"Accused! Accused only. Until his guilt is declared by the Judiciary, he is innocent! That is law."

"And," added Pakat, speaking up, "if one of you would actually listen to what we have been saying for the last five turns; this was an accident! Ben was fighting for his life, he — "

"Blaster bolts? Fights? Bah!" snorted Kika. "There was no sign of any blasters or blaster damage anywhere on the train. No evidence anyone was violent but the pechnar who is in custody and a guard even witnessed his actions. For all we know he killed that Jedi in cold blood! Stranded three other passengers out in the Scarred Plains; who knows how long it will be before they can be rescued? Never mind the criminal damage; cutting the couplings like that might have derailed the entire train and endangered hundreds of lives! And you," he snapped at Shaarm. "You two are lucky not to be in the cage next to him. It is only the fact that there is no direct evidence for your involvement which means you are still free. So maybe you should not be so vocal in a pechnar's defence."

"Are you actually threatening me ?" Shaarm's fur was all but standing on end in her fury. "You think the implication that you will arrest us too is enough to stop me speaking out against the blatant ill-treatment of a prisoner? At best this is prejudice, at worse it is abuse! This is a disgrace. You call yourselves Kheelians? Your children would be ashamed, I — "

"Shaarm," Ben said, firmly. "Shaarm, stop. It's okay. I'm alright." The last thing he wanted was for the pair of them to end up incarcerated, too.

"No, she is right," said a new voice from over by the door. Two other quadrupeds, both also in green uniforms, were clustered in the doorway. The other guards had been listening in. The speaker was a skinny Dhosan male with a particularly narrow face and wide eyes. He spoke again: "We have let our feelings at this abhorrent circumstance make us behave poorly. Until the Judiciary decides, it is possible that these events could still be decreed an accident, as these two claim. The pechnar still has a right to receive proper hospitality, as much as is possible."

Kika huffed in clear annoyance. He sat back on his haunches and rubbed his face. No-one said anything for a long moment.

"It has been a long day," said the first female Kheelian, the one who had been in the room before. Jebett. Her tone was even, almost soothing. "Kika, you have been on duty since we arrived at Zabora. You should go and sleep. The rest of us can manage watching the prisoner and our other duties for a few turns."

Kika stared for a few more moments and then turned away. "Fine. But you must call me when the next disaster happens." He looked at Shaarm as if considering telling her and Pakat to leave once more. Shaarm stared back, eyes narrowed. Kika's shoulders sagged and he left without another word.

There was a short period of Kheelians going to and fro and murmuring to one another in the corridor. Shaarm disappeared for some time with the guard Jebett, though Pakat remained right by Ben's side, hand wrapped around one of the cage bars as if expecting someone to try and drag him away. None of the other guards spoke to them, even the Dhosan who had come to Shaarm's defence, and they all cast cold, unfriendly looks his way. Ben just stayed quiet and still in his cell, trying not to draw attention to himself or let on how badly his head was still spinning. A mix of dehydration, his brief contact with the inhibitor cuff, and getting pistol-whipped by Gurra's blaster, no doubt. Not a winning combination. That far-off crystal clear chime hummed to him, soothingly.

Eventually, Shaarm and Jebett returned. The other two guards disappeared further up the train. Ben wondered where Ditto was, if he was dealing with the biped passengers or if he had been sent off duty too. Ben just hoped he wasn't in trouble for helping them before; from Kika's rant it sounded as if the others had managed to keep Ditto's and their own involvement secret at least. Thank the Force Ben had changed out of the borrowed guard's uniform he had been wearing before he had made his crawl through the maintenance ducts.

Shaarm came over towards the cage, carrying a small box of medical supplies. She stopped by the locked cage door and looked at Jebett.

"Well?"

"I cannot," the other Kheelian replied, sounding regretful. "You know that. I cannot let you in there. But you can treat him through the bars; they are very wide."

Ben could see Shaarm considering whether or not to raise another objection but in the end she seemed to decide she could lose this battle in favour of winning the war.

"The binders, then," she conceded. "He must be able to move his arms so I can assess the injury."

Jebett hesitated for just one more moment and then she gave in. Ben raised his hands meekly and let her lean through to undo the binders.

"Thank you," he said, quietly. The Kheelian guard said nothing and didn't even look at him. As soon as his hands were free she walked away.

Shaarm approached and Ben got to his feet, slowly, rubbing his wrists. The binders weren't tight but sitting in the same position for some turns had made his arms ache, as well as his legs and feet quite numb. Actually, he was feeling altogether quite unsteady and had to hold on to the cage wall for balance as he stood. That would be the blow to the head, no doubt.

Shaarm leaned through the bars and placed a hand on the back of Ben's head in greeting, meeting his eyes with a clear communication of silent concern. Ben nodded back. He was honestly all right, just a little battered and bruised.

Shaarm nodded to herself and then sat to unpack the medical box. "Take your shirt off," she instructed, "and sit."

Ben obeyed. Shaarm proceeded to inspect and clean his most recent wounds: the swollen contusion on Ben's right temple, glancing blaster shot to his right upper arm, lightsaber burn on the shoulder, scorched stripes of skin where the electrowhip had lashed at his ankles and back, and the other minor scrapes he had accrued during the recent conflict. The blood which had stained the front of the shirt was largely the result of another nosebleed, caused by his thankfully short contact with the suppression cuff, as well as the gash in his forehead. Both bleeds had long since stopped but the crimson stains no doubt added to his ghoulish appearance.

Ben knew already that none of the injuries were serious although Shaarm spent some time carefully examining and dressing each injury and probing the array of multicoloured bruises across his torso. That was presumably for the benefit of the watching train guard. It wouldn't hurt for them to think Ben more seriously injured than he actually was.

Jebett was standing nearby, watching, and Ben could see the guard's expression becoming more and more uncertain as Shaarm continued her treatments.

"Is it serious?" she asked, while Shaarm dressed the blaster burn on Ben's upper arm.

"He'll live," Shaarm snapped. "But blaster wounds are very dangerous to smaller bipeds."

"You still claim he was shot with a blaster? That he was really attacked?"

"We are still saying it because it's true," Pakat replied, sounding exasperated. "Do you not see the marks on his body? Don't you think it is too ridiculous a tale to have made up?"

"But they were Jedi!" Jebett protested.

None of them said anything in reply to that.

After a minute or two someone called to Jebett and she moved further off down the corridor to answer them. Shaarm, seeing her out of earshot, quickly leaned in, all pretence of stern fury dropping away.

"Ben! We give thanks you are well! They would not let us in to see you."

Ben kept his voice low when he answered. "I am pleased to see you too. Quickly though, I need to know; do you have the lightsabers somewhere safe?"

"We have one hidden. The other that the guards took from you will be locked up somewhere in one of the guard rooms with your other things. I am afraid they searched your bunk too, and took everything as evidence. But Ben — what happened?"

"The Jedi were waiting for me as soon as I left the crawl space. The leader found a way to hide from me so I couldn't sense him; the others arrived just after. It's clear they were trying to capture me alive but I still don't know why. It's just as well you showed up when you did."

Pakat crouched down beside them, leaning in.

"We could not get to the radiation suits," he said, voice tense. "They were secured too well. We were coming to tell you we had to change the plan; we did not know there was anything wrong until the carriage door opened and we saw the bipeds attacking you."

"And Ditto?"

"He was following behind us," said Pakat. "He came running in just as the carriages tore apart and that man...when he fell. I do not know what else he saw."

"He panicked," Shaarm explained. "He started shouting and calling for the other guards."

"Do they suspect Ditto to be involved? If they found the other uniform…"

Shaarm shook her head. "We do not know. Neither of us have seen him since they took you away. After that they made us wait for a long time, before they asked us many questions - who you are, how we know you. We said nothing about Ditto's involvement, but I do not think they believed much of anything we have said. Not about you, anyway."

"What did you tell them?"

"The truth," said Pakat. "Well, we left out how we found you and the memory loss, of course, and that you crash-landed and come from a different planet and that you are a Jedi. But everything else was true."

Ben looked up, startled. "What do you mean, a Jedi?" he said.

Shaarm and Pakat stared at each other and then back at him.

"Oh," said Shaarm, heavily. "You have forgotten again."

"Forgotten what?" Ben looked between them, and then slowly a memory dawned. Sitting on the fence at the edge of the railway line at Berghet Crosspoint, smelling the snow and the caprius and the cut grass. Shaarm's voice saying " Because of you also being Jedi...you must look the same to them, in the Force."

"We've spoken of this before," he said, trying to chase after the elusive image. "Haven't we?"

"Yes, Ben. You keep forgetting it. But we still believe it to be true."

"Why? Why do I forget that one thing, over and over?"

But that itself was just one more unanswered question, and right now he had bigger problems. There would be time to think about these strange and troubling instances of new amnesia once he was no longer locked up and on his way to who-knew-what fate.

Shaarm now had him sitting with his back to the bars so she could finish dabbing some ointment onto his electrical burns, and Ben looked across his three-metre by three-metre cage and wondered if this was the most freedom he would ever have again.

"Just how much trouble am I in?" He asked, low.

Shaarm's touch on his back slowed. "No worse than usual," she said, dryly.

"Does your culture operate a system of legal trial?" Ben continued, not to be deflected. "Will I get the opportunity to offer a defence?"

"I am not certain how Pechnar cases are handled," said Pakat. "A lawspeaker may be able to help us, although the Judiciary can be very severe on cases of physical attack. But we will do everything possible to protest your innocence."

Well, that didn't sound encouraging, given the levels of hostility and potential prejudice that Ben was already facing. It seemed likely, whatever legal system was in place here, that claims of Ben's innocence coming from two people he had known for less than a month would not compare favourably to eye-witness accounts and the word of five train guards.

"What sort of sentence should I be prepared for?" he asked next. "In the worst case scenario, if the Judiciary doesn't believe that I acted in self defence?"

There was silence from behind him as no-one answered. Ben turned around to find Shaarm and Pakat looking at each other, helplessly.

"Does your law call for sentences of execution?" He prompted. "A death penalty?"

"No!" Several voices all declared at once, in outraged tones. Ben saw Jebett and the slender Dhosan guard from earlier had both returned to the carriage at some point, and both were also looking shocked at his question.

"Stars, no," said Pakat again, looking upset.

"We are not so barbaric as that," Jebett spoke up, approaching the group. "But you are a pechnar, and your crime was against another offworlder, not a Kheelian or Dhosan. If your own people do not claim you then most likely you will be sent to the mines."

"For how long?" Ben asked.

The silence from all of them this time was enough of an answer. As if guessing his chain of thought, Shaarm said: "Do not worry, Ben. We will come up with a plan. I promise."

She laid her hand comfortingly on his shoulder and he just nodded, silently. It would have to be one hell of a plan.

"I need to re-secure the binders," said Jebett, to Shaam. She was holding them in one hand. "We have brought bedding, clothing, and food for the pechnar, so if you are satisfied with his treatment it is time for you both to leave."

Shaarm and Pakat both protested but it was clear that Jebett was not going to be moved on this. Ben himself didn't object. Both of his friends were looking exhausted and they needed to rest. Besides, while his accommodation left something to be desired, as prison cells went, it wasn't bad. Ben was moderately comfortable for the present, and probably relatively safe; while further accomplices of Skywalker's might still be lurking somewhere on the train, Ben was now under constant guard. His jailors' reluctance to let anyone into this carriage was likely to act in his favour should any other enemies appear. As for the guards themselves, well...despite Shaarm's angry outburst earlier, Ben was certain that the Kheelians were not the type to seriously mistreat a prisoner.

Shaarm and Pakat finally left, with the promise that they would return as soon as they were allowed in the morning. It must be well into the evening now, by Ben's best estimates. Jebett, who seemed to be a lot more reasonable than the head guard Kika, had also brought Ben's spare tunic which she must have retrieved from his confiscated possessions, meaning he could finally change out of the burned and battle-stained one he was currently wearing. Ben saw both guards looking uncomfortably at him as he pulled on the fresh tunic, no doubt witnessing the bruises, bandages, and scars that now littered his torso.

Jebett waited until Ben had finished dressing and laying out the blanket he had been brought before she put his binders back on, and then the Dhosan guard brought over a folded flimsi box and passed it through the bars. Ben wasn't surprised to see the box held yet another round of the white protein cubes and a plastoid water cup. The last thing he wanted to do was eat any more of the unflavoured textureless food, but he was also quite aware that he wasn't healthy enough to be turning his nose up at any sustenance just yet. Besides, apart from a cup of tea that morning, he hadn't eaten anything since last night.

Ben thanked the Dhosan guard, and then added:

"I also wanted to thank you for your kindness earlier, when you stood up for me."

"It was not kindness," said the Dhosan, quietly. "I was doing my job."

"Still, you could have kept quiet, and you didn't." Ben said, and quickly swallowed a few food cubes. "I appreciate it. Might I ask your name?"

The Dhosan glanced at his fellow guard, Jebett.

"We really are not supposed to be talking to you," said Jebett.

"Look," Been pointed out. "We're going to be stuck here together for several more days at least until we reach the City. Humour me. At least it'll be something to break up the time."

Neither of them spoke.

Ben refused to give in. "Your name is Jebett, correct?" He said to the Kheelian and she nodded, a little reluctantly. Ben turned again to the Dhosan. "And you are…?"

The Dhosan guard looked at Jebett again, who just shrugged. Finally he said:

"Malleyo."

"Malleyo," Ben repeated. "Malleyo, Jebett. Nice to make your acquaintance. I'm Ben."

"Yes. Ben Waken," Jebett said. "We know your name. I scanned your MedIdent card. It looks fake."

"Does it?" said Ben, noncommittally. "So how long do you think the storm will last?"

It took awhile but eventually, after some artfully casual comments about the weather and a few inoffensive questions both guards started to open up a little. Ben learned that Kika was the most senior of the guards, having been a transport operator for decades. Jebett was his second in command, then the other Kheelian guard, Dinad, and Malleyo came last in the pecking order, having only worked for the train company for a few years each.

"And the other guard?" Ben asked. "The Twi'lek, the one who arrested me?"

Both guards suddenly tensed, expressions guarded.

"What about him?"

"Nothing," Ben tried to reassure them. "I just thought I hadn't seen him around for a little while. I was hoping he hadn't been injured during the fight."

"He did not see a fight," Malleyo said.

"Ditto is fine," Jebett added. "He is off duty."

"Of course," Ben agreed, soothingly, noting their sudden defensiveness. "I just was hoping to speak with him, when it is convenient."

"That is not up to you." Jebett said, and with that one question it seemed that Ben had destroyed any goodwill the pair had towards him, and put an end to any further interest in conversation. Malleyo went off up the corridor while Jebett remained, sitting against the wall, watching his cage in silence. It was clear enough that Ben was once again on his own.

For lack of anything more productive to do, Ben decided he may as well attempt to sleep. He settled himself on the blanket he'd been given out on the freezing metal of the floor and lay back, cold and tired, aching and guilty. Without the distraction of conversation, his thoughts spiraled straight back to his current predicament like they were caught in a gravity well.

What was he going to do now? Getting the guards on his side hadn't been very effective so far, so talking his way out of this didn't look hopeful. Could he somehow escape? He knew he could use the mind trick he'd discovered before to make someone do as he wished. He had no idea if it could affect more than one person at a time though, and even if he could make all the guards believe him and they let him out of the cage, he still couldn't leave the train, and by the time they reached the City, the Lawkeepers would be waiting. But even as he considered and abandoned a dozen options, the cold truth, one darker and bleaker than he wanted to contemplate, began to formulate in his mind, and that was that perhaps he shouldn't be trying to escape this. Maybe it was time to accept that his fate could not, and should not, be changed. Ben Waken had killed someone. Yes, it was in self-defense and he hadn't had a choice, but that didn't change the fact that he had taken a life, and the worst part was, he hadn't even thought twice about it. Yes, he had held back from killing earlier in the fight, when Gurra had been winded and left lying there, helpless, at his feet. He had resisted the dark impulse that had almost had him striking at his enemy where he lay. But moments later Gurra was dead all the same. A once living being was gone from the universe, one who, if not for Ben, would still be breathing. Someone had to make reparation for that. Someone had to be held accountable. Perhaps this was the point that Ben stopped running and faced up to what he had done, realised the sort of person he truly was. A killer.

He had been going to the City to find out his past, to learn the truth of who he was and where he came from. But perhaps there was going to be no truth for him. Ben had been responsible for someone's death and the dead man deserved justice. He should just let the Kheelians arrest him, take him away without a struggle. Put him on trial and maybe find him guilty and his life forfeit for the crime. A life sentence of servitude in the mines. Ben Waken would vanish from this earth as quickly and silently as he had appeared and no-one would ever know more. Maybe this was a fitting end to his story.

He fell into an uneasy, exhausted sleep with those dark thoughts weighing down his mind. But it felt as if Ben had barely closed his eyes when found himself standing once more in a howling wind, watching as the false Jedi Gurra was thrown back, hands torn from the doorway grasping nothing, dragged inexorably into the burning cavity between the carriages...terrified silver eyes…flailing hands...a spray of hot blood...

"Hey. Pechnar. Ben Waken."

He woke with a gasp.

Metal floor, metal walls, cold bars and pain and…

A pair of wide brown eyes blinked at him from the other side of the bars. After a moment or two of wild disorientation Ben recognised where he was and why. Malleyo, the Dhosan guard, was standing some distance back from the cage, nervously.

"Yes?" Ben asked, his voice a dry rasp. "What is it?"

"You were...that is, you seemed to be dreaming," the guard said.

"Oh."

Ben shifted up onto his knees, moving slowly and stiffly in the cold. Malleyo watched him without speaking. Eventually it seemed that something else was needed so Ben said:

"Thank you."

The Dhosan gave a nod and moved back to the wall.

Ben looked around. It was hard to tell in this windowless train car, but it felt late still. He couldn't have slept for long. And it looked like Malleyo was the only guard on duty; no other sentients were in sight. Ben sighed; there was little chance he would get back to sleep now, not with the nightmares that awaited him. He felt unbalanced. Afraid and uneasy, like some great press of anger was crushing down on him.

"May I ask what time is it?" Ben said, and then as an afterthought added. "Though I have nothing to offer as trade for the answer." The guard was Dhosan after all, and Ben had learned that it was impolite to expect information to be given up for free.

Malleyo gave him a curious look. "It is three turns," he said, and then added; "In payment, you can answer a question."

"Ask away," said Ben.

"What was your nightmare about?" asked Malleyo, quickly. "Are you afraid of the punishment for your crime?"

Ben sat back slowly, resting his bound wrists on his lap. "No. I was dreaming of the accident," he said.

"The accident?"

"When that man died. It is difficult to put the memory aside."

"Ditto told us what he saw." Malleyo frowned. "It was no accident."

"It was." Ben said. "Despite what you all seem to think of me. There was a fight, it's true, but I didn't mean for that man to die. I just wanted to protect my friends and be left in peace."

There was silence for a few moments and then Malleyo said, "You look cold."

Ben nodded. "A little. I have been… unwell."

The Dhosan opened a locker built into the wall above his head and drew out another blanket. He crossed silently over to Ben and held it through the bars.

"Thank you," Ben took the blanket gratefully and pulled it around his shoulders. "What do you ask in trade now?"

"Another answer, I suppose." Malleyo said. "That Kheelian woman, the fierce one… She is your doctor?"

"A friend. She and her family took me in when I had nothing. They saved my life."

"They said you were a scholar. Studying Kheelian culture."

"And the culture of the Dhosana," Ben answered, in Dhosi. He knew his grasp on the language was tenuous as best but the sound of his home tongue coming from this stranger's mouth still made Malleyo draw back, startled.

"You…" he said, looking both amazed and uneasy. "You speak Dhosi."

"A little," said Ben, returning to the Kheeli language he was more comfortable with. "I have stayed with the Storykeeper in Tszaaf and heard some of the Great Story."

"You don't…" said Malleyo, and hesitated. "You don't… seem like a murderer."

Ben couldn't help but laugh a little at that. "I suppose very few murderers do. Who amongst us truly knows what we are capable of under the wrong circumstances?"

Malleyo didn't say anything in response, though his gaze flicked away and Ben wondered what he was thinking of.

The conversation faded out to silence once more, so Ben rolled himself in the new blanket and lay down again. He didn't think that he would sleep, but he let his mind be drawn back to that resonance, the bell-like tone that hummed deep within his consciousness, and his body took advantage of his distraction and dragged him under into sleep once more.

This time he didn't see Gurra's death, but strange, distorted images. Snatches of light and colour and emotion; voices, sensations. Peace and harmony, a tranquil murmur of voices. A soothing misting of gentle rain, like static on his skin, that suddenly became a thousand crawling, chittering insects that clawed and burned. Then there was the stomach churning, twisting disequilibrium of a fighter in freefall, the seat harness biting into his shoulders as the spinning cockpit filled with choking smoke; he stood and looked out across a huge room of white stone lit with beams of pale swirling light and echoing with the speech of diplomats, slow and sonorous; heard the cheering and screaming of a frenzied crowd; the clash and screech of lightsabers fueled by an overpowering grief and rage; rancid, freezing water that poured into his lungs as his robe tangled around his legs and dragged him straight down into the black ocean; the beat of music and second-hand deathstick smoke; the endless deafening blast after blast after blast as the shelling barrage went on and on without end, far beyond rest, beyond sanity, a delirium of war; defy me again and I will break every bone in your body. Then a hand on his shoulder, warm and comforting. The present, young one. Be mindful of the present.

He was jolted awake once more to the unmistakable sensation of being watched. Ben rolled over, full of a disquieting deja vu, to again find a Dhosan face pressed up to the bars of his cage. But this time the watcher subjecting Ben to a rather intense scrutiny was not Malleyo but someone he had never met before. The creature in question was unusually tall and had thick fur of a dusky purple colour, almost mauve. Ben glanced around the compartment but Malleyo the guard had disappeared.

Ben sat up slowly, looking at this new visitor who was watching him with apparent fascination. "Yes?" he asked, cautiously. "What can I do for you?"

"Who knows?" said the newcomer. "But maybe what you should be asking is: What can I do for you."

"Really," said Ben, unimpressed.

"Really," said the Dhosan. "You are Ben the murderer, right?"

"No," said Ben, disliking that epithet intensely. "It was an accident."

The Dhosan waved a hand. "Semantics. But you are the pechnar called Ben that got arrested?"

"Do you have a reason to think there might be more than one human locked in a cage around here?" Ben asked.

"No, I guess not."

"Then I suppose I must be."

"Hmm. You do not look much like your picture." The Dhosan was holding a piece of tatty flimsi and glancing between it and Ben with a critical expression.

"And might I be permitted to know your identity?" Ben said, dryly. "If it's not too much trouble."

"The name is Marcovee," said the Dhosan, still examining the flimsi.

"Is that the pic they were giving out to the passengers?" Ben asked. Marcovee nodded and made a move as if to shove the flimsi back into a pocket, but Ben found himself reaching out for it through the bars.

"May I?" He asked. The Dhosan shrugged and handed the flimsi over. With a sense of morbid curiosity, Ben unfolded it. The first word that sprang to mind was 'poised'. The man in the pic had light copper-auburn hair, cut shorter than Ben's. It was neatly, almost severely, parted to the left, although Ben could just make out a hint of the unruly lock at the front that always fell into his own eyes. The beard too was orderly and neatly trimmed; full, but just on the right side of respectable. The mouth beneath was slightly thinned and there was a line between the brows, as if their owner was habitually in a state of mild concern, but the eyes themselves, seemingly a cool grey, bore a slightly distant expression as if the man's thoughts had, just in that moment, turned to some other, more lofty consideration. There was a hint of brown and cream at the neck but the pic was cropped too closely to glean anything more from the man's clothes. Either way, Ben imagined that such a man's sartorial choices would be similarly neat and conservative, in sensible, reserved colours.

"Hey. You okay?"

Ben stirred and looked up, realising he had been lost in the image for some time.

"Fine. I just can't remember the last time I looked like this. I was just wondering where this came from."

"The Jedi were giving it out to the passengers when they were looking for you."

"No, I mean...I wonder where they got it."

"Probably the holonet," suggested the Dhosan. "Maybe a bounty hunter's ad, if you are wanted. But anyway," Marcovee continued. "You are Ben, and I came here for a reason. There are some wild rumours about you flying around, Ben. May I call you Ben? First they were saying someone got shanked with a vibroshiv. Then that you shot a blaster into a compartment and killed half a dozen Jedi. Now they are saying that you are some kind of terrorist who destroyed a whole train car and that is why the train stopped, not because of a storm at all. Which one is true?"

"Who is ' they' ?" Ben asked, feeling his heart sink. Rumours and conjecture were inevitable under circumstances such as these, but there was no way that such outlandish stories wouldn't hurt his case if the media got hold of them. He folded the flimsi up and tucked it into his boot. "And why exactly should I tell you anything?"

"You know," said Marcovee, vaguely. "People. The point is, things look bad for you and you need help."

"Are you offering?"

"Yes," said Marcovee. "There is a legal counsel office in the Blue District, where I am from. They act as lawspeakers for people accused of crimes. Legal guidance, specialist knowledge, that sort of thing."

"What makes you think I need assistance?"

Marcovee shrugged. "There are other rumours. I have heard that you are not familiar with our laws, our way of life. They say you might even be an offworlder."

Ben made no comment.

"The point is," Marcovee said. "Not all Kheelians are prejudiced, of course not. But if you do not know the system or do not speak the language, the law can very easily be used against you. It happens to Dhosana, yes, but even more so to the two-walkers. Bipeds, that is. You need a lawspeaker to defend you."

"I don't have any credits," said Ben.

"Never mind that now," said Marcovee, waving a hand.

There was a sound from further up the compartment.

"Look, I have to go," Marcovee said, quick. "I will come again tomorrow, and ask to see you. You just need to say that you want me to act as your Lawspeaker and they will have to let me in. Then you can tell me everything that happened yesterday. That is Lawspeaker . Do not forget."

And the Dhosan turned and went scurrying off up the corridor and out of sight. A few moments later, a distant door opened and Malleyo loped back into view. He looked at Ben, carefully, and Ben instantly knew that Malleyo had been the one to let Marcovee in, and maybe even organise his timely appearance.

"Do you need anything else?" Malleyo asked.

"No, I am fine." Ben said. "But Malleyo...thank you ."

Malleyo just nodded, once, and took up his post again. Ben had no idea if the Dhosan guard thought he was guilty or not. But Malleyo had certainly been aware of Ben's uncertainty and ignorance of the legal system, and that those disadvantages might lead to an injustice taking place. He had taken steps to identify someone travelling on the train who might be able to give Ben a fighting chance. That was another unexpected kindness. Ben might find he had more allies here than he thought.

Two more turns went past before Ben received his next unexpected visitor. He had managed to snatch a little more sleep, despite the cold and uncomfortable ground, the sounds of the distant animals and the bright lights above. He had always seemed able to sleep, even a little, in whatever circumstances he found himself, and this seemed to be no exception. A useful skill. But when he awoke this time it was to discover that for the first time in a while he seemed to be alone. He closed his eyes, trying to remember something from a disquieting dream, when he heard distant footsteps were sounding up the carriage's corridor, beyond the animal cages. Ben sat up, wondering which of the quaddie guards would be arriving to watch him next, but the person that walked into view wasn't a Kheelian or a Dhosan.

It was Ditto.

The Twi'lek was looking very much the worse for wear. His eyes were hollow, face pinched with stress and uniform in creased disarray; nothing like the dapper figure Ben had met only the previous night. He said nothing for a long time, just stared at Ben sitting on the cold floor of the animal pen.

"Well?" the Twi'lek said eventually, and Ben remembered he'd asked Jebett if Ditto would come and speak to him. It seemed the guard had passed the message on.

"Are you alright?" Ben asked, slowly standing.

Ditto just stared at him.

"Right, yes," Ben said, realising it was probably a stupid question. The Twi'lek had just watched a man die, after all. "I wanted to say I'm sorry. For what happened."

Ditto twitched, and his expression when he looked at Ben was one of betrayal.

"Fine," he said. He turned and then made to walk away. Then he seemed to change his mind, and spun on his heel, marching back to the cage. "You know," he said, in Ryl. "The worst part is realising I'm at fault. I can't believe I fell for this again." His tone was of bitter self-disgust that was ugly to hear.

"Fell for what?"

"Someone like you. You and your lies. I'm such a karking fool . An innocent-looking face, a few words of Ryl, and that air of wounded mystery and you had me eating out of your hand. Sithspit. " Ditto cursed and half turned away.

"I'm sorry," Ben said again, aware how inadequate it sounded. "I didn't want to deceive you."

" Kriff you ," Ditto snapped back and then after a moment, said. "I'm quite capable of deceiving myself, it turns out. And now, thanks to you, I'm going to lose my job, my home... everything , just like before."

"They don't know you helped me," Ben said, low. "And they never will. I promise neither I nor my friends will say anything."

"Oh, and I'm sure your promises are worth the air used to speak them," said Ditto, sarcastically. "I saw you kill someone. I heard what they said about you, those Jedi. They said you'd killed before, murdered a Jedi and took his weapon. You were even found with that Jedi sword on you. How can I trust any promise you make? I'd rather tell the other guards what I did myself rather than let someone like you hold that over me. I won't be blackmailed."

Ben closed his eyes, centering himself. Force , this was a real mess.

"I want to explain," Ben said., after a moment. "Will you let me do that? I want you to know."

Ditto said nothing, but made an impatient gesture with his hand, as if to say get on with it then.

"What I told you before," Ben said, "about myself. That wasn't...entirely accurate."

"What a surprise," Ditto interrupted. "Tell me, Ben. In the 30 hours since we met, has there been a single thing that's come out of your mouth that wasn't a lie?"

That stung, but Ben didn't let it show.

"Yes." He answered, evenly. "I meant it when I said I don't want to hurt anyone. What happened back there...that was an accident."

"Well, luckily for me, I'm not the one that will have to make that judgement."

"I am telling you the truth."

"You want to talk about the truth? Fine. Let's start with something simple. Tell me your real name."

Ben winced. "I can't."

Ditto folded his arms. "You mean you won't."

"I meant what I said. I can't tell you my name because I don't know it." Ben took a deep breath, already knowing how futile this was. Despite what Ditto said, he knew it was too late for the truth. He'd soured that with too many lies. Still, what could he do but try?

Ben forged on. "The only memories I have of my entire life are from the past 24 days. Everything before that is blank."

"Bantha druk," Ditto said, flatly.

"I remember being in a spacecraft, but something went wrong and I crash-landed out on the Kender moors. Shaarm and her family were the ones who found me."

"Where are you from?"

"I don't know."

"Why do Skywalker and his men want you?"

"I don't know. I know nothing of my life before the day of the crash except a few images. In my satchel, the one they took from my bunk, there's a sheet of flimsi. Everything I remember of my entire life is written there; go and look if you want."

"Memory loss doesn't work like that!" Ditto all but shouted. "Hells' teeth! Even the witness protection story was more believable than this. But fine, whatever. You've got some impossible kind of amnesia. So do you realise what that means? It means everything they were saying about you could still be true. You could be a criminal...a murderer... and not even know it!"

There was a brief silence. Ben looked down.

"I know," he said quietly. "And the thought of that...of what I might have done, who I might be...it haunts me. For all I know, I am who they claim I am. But I do know one thing. They aren't."

"Aren't Jedi? Yes, you said. But how can you possibly know that if you don't remember anything?"

"I can't explain it, and I doubt you would believe me if I did."

Ditto snorted. "Then feel free to keep it to yourself. I'm done listening to you."

"Please, Ditto; listen," Ben tried, but it was too late. Ditto had turned and disappeared back up the passage and out of sight. Ben heard a low murmur of voices in the distance, and then the Kheelian guard Dinad came into the compartment. He cast Ben a hostile glance and took up his post without a word.

Slowly, the night passed by. There was nothing for Ben to do but think and meditate. He worked to reinforce the barriers he had constructed around his mind that he hoped were keeping his thoughts hidden, and he wondered about Ditto, and the fragments of truth his anger had revealed. It seemed like Ben wasn't the first smooth-talker to lead him into trouble, and Ben regretted that he had caused the kind-hearted Twi'lek further hurt and betrayal. His own tendency to lie and obfuscate and manipulate had done him no favours this time, for now it seemed unlikely that he'd see his former ally again.

At eight turns, Pakat arrived, carrying another box of Ben's food. He settled himself down by Ben's cage and despite Dinad's best efforts would not be moved, so eventually the guard just seemed to give up and let him remain. Pakat didn't say where Shaarm was.

The morning crawled by in a slow turn of frustrating inactivity. The guards changed around often, Dinad to Kika to Jebett again, although there wasn't much of a pattern to their movements that Ben could observe, and sometimes two or three of them would all seem to be guarding him at the same time, or would gather further down the corridor and talk in furtive tones before one or two disappeared off elsewhere. It seemed likely that there were other problems happening on the train that needed solving and the guards often had to dash off to handle some crisis or other. The storm, Pakat told him, had hit hard and was showing no signs of abating. But Ben was never left unguarded.

Shaarm arrived around midday with more food and walking with a confident lope that told Ben she was up to something. When Ben asked what it was, Shaarm was rather vague.

"Gathering more evidence," she said, although she wouldn't elaborate further. "I do not want to falsely raise your hopes, in case nothing comes of it."

Ben thought that, falsely or otherwise, his hopes could rather do with raising, even if only a little. Every minute he spent trapped in this cage was another minute wasted, another moment slipping further and further away from him, as his life spiralled yet more wildly out of his control. The binders, these bars, the train he couldn't escape from, and the fact that when they reached the City his life, such as it was, could very well be over forever. The thought that they might never let him return to Thet, to the house by the moor, to tea and sunshine and children's laughter...it was devastating.

Voices drew him from his musings. Somewhere down the corridor he could hear the tones of an argument. The Kheelians all pricked up their ears.

"I will see what is happening," Dinad said. He looked at Ben and his protectors, sharply. "Do not move," he said, and then he trotted off. After exchanging a quick glance with Shaarm, Pakat followed behind. He arrived back less than a minute later, looking puzzled.

"Ben," he said. "There is a Dhosan here claiming to know you. The guards do not want to let anyone in though so there is something of an argument happening..."

Ben realised that, while he had already caught the others up about Ditto's visit, he had forgotten to tell them about his other middle-of-the-night visitor, the Dhosan that Malleyo had found who had offered to act as Ben's lawspeaker.

"Oh, yes." Ben said. "That'll be Marcovee, the lawspeaker. We met last night and should probably have a more detailed conversation."

Both Pakat and Shaarm looked astonished, but without asking anything further, the former disappeared off between the caprius pens and quickly returned with Jebett, Dinad, and the new Dhosan in tow.

"You know this Dhosan?" said Jebett to Ben, flatly.

Ben nodded. "That's correct. I have engaged Marcovee as my legal representative."

Marcovee gave a wide grin.

The two guards looked at each other and then at the four other sentients in the carriage before they both seemed to decide this was out of their pay grade.

"Fine," Jebett said.

"You may speak for half a turn," instructed Dinad. "Then visiting hours are over and you will all leave."

"Thank you," said Ben, politely, and then waited. When neither guard showed signs of moving, he added, "I should like to talk with my lawspeaker in privacy."

Jebett and Dinad frowned at each other, but at last, with a grudging air, they left.

Marcovee looked at Shaarm and Pakat, and made a shooing motion. "My client requested privacy."

"No. They stay." Ben countermanded.

"That is not necessary," said Marcovee. "Are you sure you want them here?"

"Absolutely," Ben stated.

Shaarm eyed Marcovee with suspicion. "Ben, would you mind explaining what is going on?"

"Certainly. Shaarm, Pakat - meet Marcovee."

"Who is…?" prompted Pakat.

"Here to advise Ben on his legal standing," answered Marcovee.

"Yes," said Ben, "except you're not, are you?"

"Excuse me?" said the Dhosan, with genuine surprise.

"Oh, it was very well done," Ben said. "When we met last night. You quite expertly implied you were a lawspeaker without ever outright saying so, just enough so that you weren't actually lying. Might have taken me in completely if I wasn't quite familiar with that little trick. You did the same thing to poor Malleyo too, didn't you, to get him to let you in here last night?"

"I do not know what you are talking about," said Marcovee, now looking definitely shifty.

Pakat and Shaarm, on the other hand, bore expressions which were stuck somewhere between puzzled and furious.

"Of course you don't," said Ben, mildly. "I'm sure it's all just a big misunderstanding, and that if we checked your ID card against the passenger manifest they'd both confirm that you're just an honest pro bono defence lawyer in Blue District, who happened to be the perfect place at the perfect time."

"Fine," muttered Marcovee. "All right, fine. You are not an idiot at least."

Pakat and Shaarm were glaring daggers now, livid that someone had tried to con them. Marcovee just sat back, forearms folded.

"So why did you let me in here if you knew I was not ...being totally honest?"

"Curiosity," said Ben. "If you're not actually a lawyer I'm rather wondering why you're here. Is it a scam? Are you after a payout?"

"No!" snapped the Dhosan, and then sighed. "No. Believe it or not I have good intentions. And it is even true that bipeds and Dhosan suffer a much higher rate of legal injustice than Kheelians. But I just needed to see first hand what was going on, be the first on the scene. I could not think how else to get in here."

"You are a journalist," said Pakat, fur bristling.

Marcovee nodded. "Yes, I write for the City Star . I just needed a new angle!"

"I could throw you out of a window," Shaarm threatened. "That would be a new angle."

Marcovee shifted away from her and Ben tried not to laugh. "Easy, easy," he said. "No need for that quite yet, I think. But I have no use for a journalist, I'm afraid."

"Just a few questions?" said Marcovee, in a wheedling tone. "As I am already here. Just a quick interview, so you can tell your story first? Make sure your side of events is heard. Why are you travelling to the City, how is it you are close friends with Kheelians, what happened in the last carriage..."

"I have no interest in being a holonet headline, thank you, and I think you had better leave. By the way; is pretending to be a lawspeaker to deceive people illegal?" he asked Shaarm.

"No," she said. "Despicable and immoral, yes, but illegal? Sadly not. Unless you agreed to pay him?" She sounded a little hopeful at that.

"Unfortunately, no," said Ben.

"Then it is not illegal, but it is absolutely time for you to go," said Pakat to Marcovee. "Goodbye."

"Fine," said Marcovee, with a shrug. "It is your choice. I did not want it to be like this, but you do not give me an option. This will be the story of the year, and without your testimony I will have to fall back on that tired, old narrative; a pechnar arrested for violent crimes. The bipeds are dangerous, pechnar cannot be trusted, they will corrupt our children, kill, destroy…"

"Ben was defending himself!" cried Pakat. "What you are saying is nothing but stereotype and discrimination…"

"If you do not speak up and let me report the real story," said Marcovee, "then that will never change."

"We've heard enough," said Shaarm, and pointed to the exit. "Out."

Marcovee went meekly enough, if clearly grudgingly. But less than five minutes later, Shaarm and Pakat were also just as firmly evicted by Dinad, and they went with rather less grace.

"We'll be back as soon as we are permitted," Shaarm informed Ben as they finally left.

Ben assumed that he would once again be left alone for some time, and settled in for another bout of pointless waiting. But before he could get comfortable, when barely ten minutes had passed, Dinad and Kika appeared and came over to the cell, purposefully.

"Get up," instructed Kika. "Hold out your hands."

Ben complied. "What's going on?" He asked, curious.

Neither of them answered. Dinad leaned through the bars to unlock the binders, and then said; "Turn around."

Ben did as he was ordered, although he was starting to feel faintly alarmed as his arms were refastened firmly behind his back. There was a click as the cage door opened.

"Turn around and walk forward," said Kika, and as Ben turned back to face the front of the cage once again, he saw the Kheelian had his blaster drawn and aimed warningly at him.

Ben didn't move. "Why?" He asked. "What's happened? Where are we going?"

"You are being moved," said Kika, shortly. "Out, now."

Dinad grabbed Ben's arm and he reluctantly allowed himself to be hauled out of the cell. Dinad led him forward and then, to his surprise and alarm, a black cloth bag was pulled over his head. Then Dinad was clamping a hand the size of a train wheel down over Ben's wrists and pushing him forwards.

"Start walking," he instructed, and Ben did, feeling Kika ahead and Dinad behind, pushing him on down the corridor. Luckily, the bag did little to inhibit his movement and he was able to keep up with their loping pace. The Force seemed to give him a sense of the world around that transcended vision, meaning he could feel the floor surface beneath his feet and the shape of the corridor around him. He could sense, as well as hear, the cluster of sentient beings close ahead, and as always, constant and unchanging, the crystal chime of his lightsaber.

There was the whoosh of a carriage door opening and then a sudden babble of voices and noise. They were entering a passenger car. Ben paused on the threshold but Dinad pushed him on and instructed low; "Keep moving. Do not stop."

Ben felt eyes turn to them and a sensation of startled gawping as they hurried through the car. The chatter of carefree voices began to die away and a flurry of whispers spread out like a wave. Ben was suddenly absurdly grateful for the bag over his head; it might be humiliating but at least he was spared yet another round of staring and scrutiny.

At last they reached another door and there was a series of pneumatic hisses. Ben was pushed forward into what his senses told him wasn't a carriage at all but a smaller room. He smelled cleaning chemicals and grease, and he knew this must be another maintenance bay like the one where Ditto slept further down the train. But the pure ringing tone of his 'saber was right here, just metres away.

Dinad nudged Ben over to a wall and then let go of his arm. "Stay there," he ordered, and then, before Ben could say anything, he heard both Kheelians leave.

He was alone. If he had been looking for a chance to make his escape, this was undoubtedly it. Quite possibly his only chance. He was in a maintenance bay and that meant there would be an access hatch for the crawl space just overhead. He just needed to get rid of the hood covering his eyes, free his hands, grab his 'saber, climb up to the hatch, crawl inside and...

And what? He'd be trapped in there, with no way out. And running again would just make him look more guilty of this crime. Besides, he was curious about what the guards were up to, and there was no sense of danger in the Force, not yet. He'd wait.

After a moment or two he heard the door open again and sensed three sentients enter the room. There was a rustling sound and the hood was pulled off his head. Ben blinked in the light and saw he was facing Kika, Dinad, and, surprisingly, Ditto. The latter was looking on edge, though the Kheelians expressions were inscrutable. Ben quickly glanced around but his lightsaber was nowhere in sight. There was a low table at one end of the room, scattered with flimsi and datapads, reminiscent of an office desk, and somehow he knew that was where his lightsaber was being held.

"I'd like to know what's going on, please," Ben asked Kika, this time adding a little twist of Force suggestion to the words. "Now, if you don't mind."

"The farmers needed to see to their caprius flock and other passengers wanted to move through the train." Kika obliged, without hesitation. "So we have opened up the caprius compartment for them to use briefly. After a turn we will take you back to your cage."

"Very well," Ben said, glancing at Ditto. The Twi'lek wouldn't meet his eye, and he could sense there was something more, some other tension in him. "Though there's something else, isn't there?"

Ditto didn't answer.

"The storm is abating and the comms signals are coming through again," said Dinad, shortly. "We have just learned that the damaged train carriage and the Jedi you stranded in the Scarred Plains are being recovered as we speak. They are being collected by their own aircraft and will be waiting for us when we arrive in the City. You are to be extradited promptly into their custody."

Well, that wasn't good.

"I request a Kheelian trial," Been replied, immediately. "The alleged crime took place on Kheelian-owned transport; you should retain custody."

"You are not Kheelian," Kika said. "Or Dhosan. If the Jedi pechnar have claimed you, then it is their right to take you and try you as they see fit. We will make a record of your statement now, and of the statement of the witness against you." He gestured at Ditto. "But then our part will be done."

He sounded relieved but Ben certainly was not. All of this effort spent, the fight, the dead man's life , and Ben still hadn't escaped from his pursuers. He'd only delayed what was seeming frustratingly inevitable. "When will we arrive in the City?"

"Around eight hours from when we start to travel again, if no more delays happen."

Vape it . Perhaps he should have risked the crawl space after all.

"We will take your statement now," Kika said. "As a record for the Judiciary."

"We can fetch your lawspeaker if you want," Ditto said, speaking up for the first time since they'd entered. "Jebett said there was a Dhosan who was speaking for you…?"

"That will not be necessary," Ben said, cursing again his luck that Marcovee had turned out to be a fraud. He could very much use some insight into Kheelian law right now.

Dinad balanced a holorecorder on one of the nearby control panels, and now he switched it on.

"Then we begin," he said. "You will state your identity."

"Ben Waken," Ben said, with growing trepidation. "Shaarm Residence, Tszaaf District."

"You must swear on the Saviours that you will speak only the truth," Kika demanded.

Ben looked at each of his interrogators, feeling a low thrum of warning. If he said the wrong thing, and somehow incriminated himself, this could end very badly. But if he refused to talk, did that not also speak to his guilt?

Damned if he did, damned if he didn't.

"I swear," he said, slowly, "that any words I speak will only be the truth, as I know it to be."

"Very well," said Kika, who seemed satisfied with the oath. "Tell us why you killed the passenger named Gurra Hakaree."

"I was defending myself and two nearby Kheelians," said Ben

"You do not deny that you killed him?" demanded Dinad, looking surprised.

"No," said Ben. "I deny that it was murder. My actions led to his death but there was no premeditation or intent to kill."

The guards turned away and held a swift, whispered conversation. Ben waited.

When they turned back, Kika instructed: "Tell us everything that happened yesterday, up to your arrest."

So Ben did. He told them about how he couldn't sleep so he had sat in the Kheelian lounge during the night drinking tea. That he had read about narms and watched the other passengers and looked out the window as the new carriage was loaded up at Zabora. When he mentioned meeting Ditto, he saw the Twi'lek guard go tense. He had no idea what Ditto had told the other guards, so he was as vague as possible and quickly moved on to the arrival of the bipeds, how they had threatened him and chased him down the train.

"How did you get away from them?" asked Kika.

"I went to the guardroom in the biped lounge. I asked Ditto, that is, Guard Arendet'ti, for help."

Ben watched Ditto out of the corner of his eye as he spoke. The Twi'lek was staring at him intently, fists clenched at his sides, shoulders tight. Ben met his gaze, steadily, and continued, "He told me that he was off duty and that I should speak to Jebett in the Kheelian lounge. I left the maintenance bay during a short outage of the lights and was able to sneak past the pechnar into the end carriage."

Ditto gave a shiver of relief and looked away. For all his bold words yesterday, it was clear he was terrified of the other guards finding out he'd aided Ben, even if, in Ben's opinion, no blame should fall on the Twi'lek. Ben really had lied to him, after all.

"All four pursuers ambushed me shortly after," Ben continued, omitting any mention of the crawl space or the borrowed uniform. "They were armed with blasters, a vibrowhip, and one had a lightsaber. They posed what I considered to be a threat to my life; they claimed to be trying to take me captive but they did not hesitate to cause me several injuries as I tried to escape. The leader also threatened the lives of other innocent passengers and Kheelians if I did not comply. Believing my life and others to be at risk, stranding my pursuers seemed like the only viable option. I managed to disarm the human carrying the lightsaber and threw the weapon. The blade cut through the couplings between the cars. I jumped to safety in the adjacent carriage, and one of the pursuers attempted to follow me. He aimed a blaster at a Kheelian bystander and I tried to knock him aside. Unfortunately, he lost his balance and fell into the gap between the carriages where he was killed. The final carriage was detached from the rest of the train with the other hostiles still on board. Then Guard Arendet'ti arrived and I was placed under arrest."

Ben completed his narrative and waited, patiently. He had kept the recounting as simple as possible, and he had managed to obscure the roles played by Ditto and Shaarm while holding to his oath and telling no lies. Lies by omission didn't count, of course.

"Ditto," Kika said, touching the Twi'lek's head, and again Ben saw a softness about the way they treated their biped colleague, a gentle protectiveness with which Ben was achingly familiar. "Please add your observations."

"I...don't know," said Ditto, at last, looking up at the pair of Kheelians. "I can't corroborate that story. I didn't see it. I only saw Ben kick another man, the passenger Gurra, out through the door and he fell between the cars. Then the rear car broke free and was left behind. I took the weapon Ben was holding and I arrested him."

The Kheelians were looking at each other, thoughtfully. Ditto had an unreadable expression on his face.

"The Jedi claimed you had committed a murder before," said Kika to Ben, uneasily.

"I know nothing about that," Ben said. "And I do not believe I have ever even met a Jedi, save perhaps once."

"They told us they were Jedi, and why should we doubt them?"

"You know the tales of the Jedi, correct?" Ben asked. "Their extraordinary strength and agility, years of training, their preternatural powers…"

There were nods all round.

"Then consider it like this," said Ben, dryly. "A single human fights off a group of heavily armed Jedi and not only manages to escape largely unscathed but neutralises all the other combatants and even kills one, even though he is already injured and they outnumber him four-to-one? It sounds rather farcical, doesn't it?"

The Kheelians hesitated again, and Ben could see it in their faces. They were starting to doubt.

Ditto frowned, unhappily. "Perhaps you lied to them, too," he said, but his words sounded less bitter than before.

"We do not…" Kika said, and paused. "We do not have proof that such a conflict even took place."

"I gave you my oath," Ben said.

"That's not enough," said Ditto.

They stared at each other before the moment was broken by a loud knock.

Dinad went to the open door and stopped, suddenly.

"Oh no," he said. "It's her."

Shaarm swept into the room, Pakat at her heels. Jebett and Malleyo trailed along behind, looking sheepish.

"Sorry," said Malleyo. "We couldn't stop her."

"Guard Kika," said Shaarm, coldly, as she swept into the room. Her eyes darted lightning-fast over Ben and her frown relaxed a moment, signalling relief. Then she turned her fierce stare back on the guards. "Perhaps you'd like to explain precisely what is going on before I start drawing my own conclusions?"

"Nothing that concerns you," Kika said, a touch desperately. "The pechnar will be returned to his cell soon."

Shaarm didn't reply and her stern mien didn't alter. Kika hesitated a second and then wilted under the chill of her glare. "We have been asked to record his statement to use in evidence for the Judiciary. "

"Excellent," said Shaarm, grimly. "We arrived at the right moment, then."

Pakat turned and beckoned to yet another Kheelian Ben hadn't met before who was loitering in the doorway. The newcomer squeezed her way into the office room, which now contained six Kheelians, a Dhosan, a Twi'lek and a human, and it was getting distinctly crowded.

"Rooka," Kika greeted the newcomer with a tone that was startlingly respectful. "Can we assist you?"

Rooka's glossy coat was a deep, dark indigo that bore not even a glimpse of youthful white. Ben thought she must be quite advanced in years, perhaps even elderly.

"They asked me to come here," said the newcomer, Rooka, nodding towards Shaarm and Pakat. "For my expert insight." She spoke softly, but her voice had an unmistakable air of authority that commanded the attention of everyone in the room. This was someone used to giving orders, and from the nervous and somewhat obsequious change that had come over all of the other Kheelians at her entrance, Ben thought she was probably used to having them obeyed, too.

"Um," said Dinad. "Why?"

"They believe it will assist with the Pechnar's case," explained Jebett.

"I have no interest in supporting the claim of either side," Rooka said, dismissively. "I will only state the facts as I see them." She looked at Kika, archly. "I assume I do not need to show my credentials?"

"No," said Kika, quickly. "No, of course not."

While the group had been speaking, Pakat had sidled over to his usual place at Ben's side and sat down beside him. Ben leaned towards him and whispered;

"Who is that?"

"Rooka," Pakat replied, low. "She was a great military leader during the War."

Before Ben could ask what the relevance was, Rooka had glanced around the crowded room and seen him standing in the corner near the desk. She went still.

"You did not say your companion was a two-walker," she said to Shaarm, a faint distaste about her words.

"Did I not?" said Shaarm, flatly, with no hint of apology in hers.

"Does that matter?" put in Ditto.

Rooka said nothing, but after a moment she tilted her head. "No. I suppose not."

She pushed purposefully past the other guards towards Ben, Shaarm following close behind.

"Show me," Rooka ordered, gesturing abruptly towards Ben but looking at Shaarm.

Shaarm nodded and leaned down to Ben. "I am sorry about this," she said, quietly. "It was the only thing I could think to do. You will need you to take your shirt off."

Understanding arrived in a flash. Ben waited while his binders were unlocked. Then he quickly shrugged out of his shirt to let Shaarm point out the burns and lash marks across his back and torso. Rooka observed the injuries in contemplative silence while all the train guards craned in to look. It wasn't a comfortable position to be in: half-dressed and stared at on all sides. He felt rather like a sickly calf on display at a nerf herder's market. But thankfully the scrutiny didn't take long and Rooka stepped back.

"Are these the garments he was wearing during the alleged offence?" she asked, turning towards Kika as

Shaarm finished smoothed the dressings back into place and Ben pulled his tunic back on. Jebett immediately attached the binders back on his wrists again. Ben managed not to roll his eyes.

"No, there was a different shirt..." Kika acknowledged.

There was a generalised shuffling as everyone moved around to make space for Kika to squeeze through. Pakat had to push right up against the wall behind the desk to let the head guard past. Kika went to the far side of the desk and opened up a drawer. The crystal chime of Ben's lightsaber suddenly toned bright and sonorous, and he knew that was where his things were being kept. So close, but still out of reach.

Rooka was handed the filthy blood-stained bundle that comprised Ben's other clothing which she unfolded with a look of cold distaste. Nevertheless, she examined it closely, investigating the burn marks on the arms, the trails of dried blood, and even gently sniffing at the carbon scoring on the back. Everyone watched her silently; the guards clustered around her, Shaarm silent at Ben's side, Pakat behind the desk. After perhaps two minutes, Rooka finally nodded.

"Well?" Kika asked.

"I can say that these marks were made by blaster fire, no more than a day ago," said Rooka. "And were not self inflicted. The angle is wrong." She pointed. "Also there are marks from a whip of some kind, and something else that was very hot, a tool like a soldering iron perhaps..."

"So he was the victim of an attack?" asked Jebett, "and not its perpetrator at all?"

"I will not speculate," said Rooka. "I can only tell you what I see. May I return to my carriage now?"

The news that a quite clearly unbiased specialist had corroborated Ben's story, even a little, sent the guards into an intensely thoughtful silence. Once Rooka had left, Shaarm had insisted that pics were taken of Ben's injuries to go with the holorecording of Ben's statement to the Judiciary. Then Ben had his head covered again and was taken back to the caprius cells by Dinad, Shaarm and Pakat following along behind. The moment they stepped out of the office into the corridor, the other guards in the room behind them devolved into what sounded like a fierce, whispered debate, although their voices faded away as Ben was led away, back up the train.

It didn't take long for Ditto to turn up, as Ben knew he would. Ben had been locked back in his cage under Dinad's watchful eye for perhaps no more than half a turn before Ditto appeared at the end of the carriage. The guards exchanged a few quick words and Dinad disappeared, leaving Ben and his Kheelian protectors alone with the Twi'lek guard.

Ben waited as Ditto silently considered him. He could practically hear the gears whirring in the other's head.

"You didn't tell them," he said, in the end. "About…what I did. Helping you."

"Of course not. I promised that I wouldn't."

"I didn't think you meant it."

Ben didn't answer that.

Ditto's next words were an abrupt non sequitur. "I read your list."

"I'm sorry?"

"Your memories." Ditto held up the list Ben had been jotting down of his fragmentary recollections. He must have taken it from Ben's confiscated possessions. "There's not much to go on."

"I'm quite aware of that," Ben said, with a wry laugh.

Ditto looked at the list again. Ben knew it held perhaps a dozen sentences, painful attempts to capture the broken, severed images of his dreams that he could never retain long enough to write down.

"This is...everything? Everything you remember?"

"Last night I dreamed of falling into water," Ben answered. "And of something… Maybe speaking to someone in a great hall. But not much more."

"Why? What happened to you?"

"They...did something to me. Skywalker and his men, while I was in their captivity. I don't know what it was or if it can be repaired. I lost my entire life."

Ditto glanced at the other flimsi he was holding; another copy of the wanted poster Skywalker and his false Jedi had been handing out.

"Yes," said Ditto, slowly. "You do look...changed. You could almost be different men."

Ben remembered his own face as he had last seen it in the refresher mirror three days ago. Pale and blood-flecked, with his thin cheeks and shadowed, hunted eyes, and the old lightsaber scar coming up beautifully on his neck; a vivid, ugly slash through his ragged beard. Then he thought back to the man on the flyer Marcovee had shown him, of that neat, composed figure, and the sombre, erudite face that had gazed thoughtfully out of the flimsi. Even if he ever made it out of here, found a way to restore his broken mind, would there even be anything of that man left for Ben to return to?

The others were all staring at the wanted poster. "He does not look so very different to me," said Shaarm, quietly.

Pakat agreed. "Nothing that a few dozen good meals and a hot bath will not fix."

Ben couldn't help but laugh. "I think it's fair to assume there's not much chance of either of those coming my way any time soon," he pointed out, gently.

At that reminder of Ben's seemingly unavoidable fate, Ditto suddenly stirred. He folded up the flimsi and shoved it into his pocket, half turning away. His expression seemed to be missing that familiar bitter anger, and now he just looked saddened and tired. No-one spoke.

"I want to believe you," Ditto said to Ben, after a long moment. "But I can't, I can't, be lied to again."

Ben realised then something that he had been barely aware of until that moment. It was terribly important to him that he had Ditto's trust. His real trust too, not one gained through mind control or deception. True, there was a selfish reason for that - in Ben's current predicament, an authority figure might well be a valuable ally. If he could get the Twi'lek on his side, Ditto might even withdraw his witness statement which implicated Ben in Gurra's death. And while Ben's mind couldn't help but consider that cold, tactical advantage, there was still more to this. Ditto had put his safety and security, treasures that sounded hard won, on the line to help a stranger. That had spoken clearly of his kind and generous spirit. But what Ben had not seen until too late was that, beneath the Twi'lek's affectation of world-weariness, survived a kind of innocence, a naivety, of which it had been all too easy to take advantage. Ben owed Ditto a debt for his help after all, and the least he could do to repay that debt was give the Twi'lek some comfort that his kind spirit hadn't been abused again.

"Ask me anything you want," Ben offered, simply. "I may not know the answers, but I will not lie."

Shaarm and Pakat waited, watching silently, perhaps also aware of the strange tension in the room.

Ditto paced a little and then rounded on the cell again.

"They shot at you with blasters," he said. "Jedi don't use blasters."

"No. Like I said, they weren't Jedi."

"But there was a lightsaber. I saw it. Kika confiscated it from you when you were arrested."

"Yes," said Ben, patiently, and waited.

"So if that was not Skywalker's or any of the others...you're saying that's yours ." Ditto said, with a sense of slowly dawning astonishment. "But if you carry a lightsaber - that would make you a Jedi... "

Ben hesitated. The automatic denial - I am no Jedi - had risen unbidden into his mouth like sickness but he held it back, swallowing it down. But the lightsaber was his, that much he knew, he was certain of it. It rang within his soul. So why couldn't he accept this other fact as truth too? Without intending to, he looked to Shaarm for direction, for guidance.

"He is Jedi," she confirmed, low. "Or was. It is something he struggles to accept, but we at least know it to be true."

"I have the Force," Ben said, and that was something he had never forgotten, never once doubted. "I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me. I don't know who I once was, if I was a murderer or a Jedi or both, but I know what I am now. I am not your enemy."

"You still lied to me before," Ditto said, sounding desperate. He wanted to believe Ben so much, that was clear. "I need something more. Please. Some proof."

A demonstration then.

"Very well."

Ben stood up in one smooth movement, and held out his wrists in their solid binders, hands clasped. He twisted his arms, held his hands downwards, gave them one firm shake - and the binders dropped from his wrists and fell to the floor with a clatter. Then Ben stepped forward to the cage door and raised a hand over the lock. There was a moment's pause and then, with a soft click, the door swung open. He stepped out of the cage, into the corridor, unbound. Free.

Ditto gaped. Shaarm just sighed.

"Six seconds," she said, sounding unimpressed. "And you could have done that this whole time?

"You…" said Ditto, and stopped. "That was the Force?"

"The binders, no." Ben said. "I just held my fists tensed half open when Jebett put the binders on me so that the cuffs didn't snap closed properly; it's a flaw in those older models. All I need to do then is relax my hands, dislocate my thumbs, and the binders slide right off. It's a useful trick."

Ben put his hands together and twisted, sliding his thumb joints until they popped back into position. The pain died down from a sharp flare to a dull ache. Ditto was still staring.

"And the door lock?"

"Oh, yes. That was the Force."

"Do something else."

Ben sighed, but raised his newly freed hand. He waved it with a soft motion, and the blankets in his cell floated up gently into the air, flapped themselves into neat folded rectangles and settled back into the corner in a tidy pile.

"Sweet Goddess," Ditto whispered, staring between Ben and the cell. "You're a Jedi . I arrested a fierfeking Jedi."

"You did what you thought was right," said Ben. "You always have. No-one could fault that."

"Why didn't you escape hours ago, if you could?" Pakat asked, looking a little plaintive.

"Because I didn't have anywhere to go," Ben said. "And because I didn't want to run again. But now I don't think I have much of a choice. I was willing to face whatever judgement was deemed necessary for my part in Gurra's death, accidental as it was. But now they say Skywalker has been rescued and his men will be waiting for me at the train terminal when we arrive. I will not go back into their hands, not while I have breath left to fight. Please, believe me."

Ditto didn't hesitate any more.

"I will help," he said, conviction now ringing through his voice. When he believed, he truly believed. "I will help you."

"Thank you," Ben said, gravely, appreciating all that the Twi'lek was risking by saying that. He looked to Shaarm and Pakat. Shaarm rolled her eyes.

"Of course we will help, you idiot."

"Whatever happens," Ben said. "I do not want any of you to be implicated in this action. It must seem like I escaped alone. I will not have any of you in danger of punishment when we arrive."

"Do you have a plan?" asked Shaarm.

"No, only that I must leave the train before we reach the City. And somehow retrieve my lightsaber."

"Your lightsaber…" Ditto said the word as if he was savouring it. "That's locked in Kika's desk drawer; I don't know how we can get to it. Sorry."

"Um," said Pakat, and then went quiet.

It was a really very particular sounding 'um' , one suggesting the ummer had done something unusually spontaneous some time ago and was having second thoughts now that the consequences of that action had suddenly begun to manifest.

"Pakat," Shaarm asked, cautiously. "What did you do?"

"I, uh…" said Pakat, and then he just reached into his coat and pulled out Ben's lightsaber. The others gaped at him.

"What were you thinking!?"

"I don't know!" Pakat almost wailed. "I was standing by the desk back there in the office; Rooka was talking and no-one was watching me, so I just took it!"

He handed the hilt over to Ben. The moment Ben's fingers closed over the cold metal, he felt again that soothing ring of the kyber crystal and something in him clicked back into place, like the tone had woven seamlessly into some internal harmony within his soul.

He had his allies, his wits, and his lightsaber. Now all he needed was his freedom.

"Right," said Ben. "This is what we are going to do."

Just then there was a sound, very far off, like metal scraping on metal. A distant thud and a whir of electronics below their feet and the floor and walls gave a great shudder. A faint vibration passed through the whole structure and then, with a long drawn-out groan, the train began to move.

The storm had passed. They were on their way, once more, to the City.

TBC