(Chapter eight.)

She pulled herself to unsteady feet and stumbled towards the door, feeling for her bag and the black lightsaber on her belt. As far as she could tell, they seemed intact. The flashlight that had been in her hand, however, was smashed to bits. It had been crushed under her side when she fell and had probably left a mark on her as well. Her left side, which had taken the burnt of the impact, was aching and there was a cut down the length of her arm, probably from the sharp end of the stone.

Making her way across the temple floor was even more of a nightmare than it had been the first time. Limping in the dark, checking behind her shoulder every minute or so, Sara made her way to the exit step by excruciating step. Relief washed over her as she hobbled down the stairs at a painful but necessary pace. She could lose Dex in the city's streets and be off the planet for good.

As she reentered the busy part of the city, Sara allowed herself to relax a little and melt into the crowd. She ripped off a piece of her Dark Jedi robe, and tied it around her bleeding arm, and slipped towards the bay where her cruiser was docked. It was filled with spacecrafts but relatively devoid of people, which was both helpful and slightly suspicious.