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“But a while back, stories of Lord Nyax got a lot more common. Because during the Jedi purges, there
was
someone who came for children in the night—someone who came for Force-sensitive children.”
    Mara’s reply was a whisper: “Darth Vader.”
    “That’s right. I think that some of Darth Vader’s covert missions to round up Force-sensitive children became merged with the Lord Nyax legend, and spread from Corellia all over the galaxy during the early Imperial years.”
    “Yassat here is one of our far scouts,” Tenga said. “He travels out beyond our territories, exploring and scavenging.”
    “And he sees things,” another said. That man tapped his temple with one hand while jerking a thumb at Yassat with the other, suggesting that Yassat was not completely functional in a mental sense.
    “I do see things,” Yassat said. “But they’re there.”
    “Tell me what you see,” Luke said.
    “I saw Lord Nyax for the first time about a month afterCoruscant fell.” Yassat’s voice lowered in tone and volume. “This was over toward the old heart of the government district, where things are crazy now. I was on one side of the main chamber of a textile factory, hiding from a Vong hunting party; they were on the other side. I was already scared, but I got a lot more scared and didn’t know why. Then the screaming started. Where the warriors were, I could see someone moving. A big man, ghostly white. There was a roar, and flashes of red all around it, but no sound of blasters. I got away. Hours later, I came back. I found the Vong warriors dead. Chopped to pieces, burned in places, some of them eaten on.
    “The second time was four days ago or so.” From a pocket, he pulled a functional chrono and checked local time. “Four days. I felt that fear again while I was prowling through rooftops well below the skyline. It got worse and worse, and I knew I was being stalked. I knew I was going to end up like those Vong warriors.”
    “How did you get away?” Mara asked.
    Yassat shook his head, not meeting her gaze. “I just got away.”
    “That’s not good enough,” Tenga said. “No one ‘just gets away.’ You get away by getting captured and selling us out?”
    “No.” Yassat’s voice became emphatic. He returned his attention to Mara. “There’s a man, calls himself Skiffer. Part of a group not part of the Walkway Collective. They prey on us. They’ve killed a couple of our scouts, found and stole one of our grayweave reactors. Grayweave’s not enough for them; I’m sure some of them are cannibals. I know where their territory is. I led Lord Nyaxthrough the heart of their territory, and when I heard Skiffer give his people a call to action, I made a break for it. I heard them screaming.” He met Tenga’s eyes. “I didn’t sell us out, Tenga. I sold Skiffer out.”
    Tenga clapped him on the shoulder. “Good work.”
    Another man said, “You were being stalked by Vong, Yassat. There is no Lord Nyax. Just your imagination.”
    Yassat glared, but didn’t respond.
    “Where have you run into Lord Nyax?” Luke asked.
    Yassat pointed northwest, precisely in the direction where Luke and the other Force-sensitives had felt the twinge. “That way. Near the old government center. It’s thick with Vong compared to here, but full of interesting salvage.”
    “We need to look at that,” Luke said. He addressed Yassat: “Care to come with us? To guide us?”
    Tenga shook her head. “Not unless you leave us this one,” she indicated Bhindi, “in trade.”
    But Yassat shook his head. “Prowl around with a big, noisy party when there are Vong hunters about? No. Kill me now, instead. It’d be less painful.”
    Luke shrugged. “We’ll be back, then.”
    Yassat offered him a look of sympathy. “No, you won’t.”
Borleias
    Jaina stood up, her bedsheet whirling away from her, and lurched to her closet without knowing why. The sun Pyria was just now climbing above the horizon, so she had been in bed