Star Wars Genesis: Souls and Stars

by Cyan

Book five of the SW Genesis series

Souls and Stars Chapter I

"So, from the edge hence into darkness."

"What was that?" Han asked as they approached a rustic hospice sunk in the humid southern continent of Delquii Prime.

Luke shook his head absently, "Never mind," he muttered.  He threw his brother a tentative smile, "But hey, by the way, thanks for coming with me."

"Aw, don't worry about it, kid," Han said with a cheerful grin that wasn't nearly as bolstering as he would have liked.  "Someone has to deflect the hazardous projectiles."

"Thanks," Luke said again though this time somewhat more sardonically.  Then he sobered, "I just hope she's able to throw stuff at me."

"Mara will always be able to inflict damage on others," Han remarked flippantly.

Luke sighed in response and started up the stairs leading into the hospice.  He grabbed the railing but satisfyingly did not have to rely on it entirely to pull his unsteady legs along.  Yet even that small victory couldn't quell his churning stomach.  Everyone was still reeling from the terrible tragedy at the cliff several months previous.  All but two of the dozens of people who had gone down with the cliff face were killed; Kam had broken nearly every bone in his body and was still taking daily bacta dips and the Cragon officer they found was never expected to recover fully.  Look as they might at the scene no one was able to find Mara's remains.  Luke knew in his heart that she was alive though even he couldn't say exactly where she was.  She probably just took off to think, that wouldn't be totally out of character for her, he told himself, though, under the circumstances he knew that that was a fairly flimsy explanation.

"C'mon, kid, stop looking like your nurf just died," Han told him, throwing his arm over Luke's shoulders comfortingly.  "She's probably still roughed up a bit but I'm sure she'll be fine.  You had a fight—it happens.  Admittedly fights with Mara are a wee bit more life threatening than most marital disputes, but you guys are too good for each other to let that keep you down.  Besides," Han added with a lopsided grin, "Mara's never been one to run from a fight."

Luke sighed, "I know, and that's what I keep telling myself.  It's just that Karrde was so damned vague when he sent that message saying he'd found her.  I got the strong impression he was holding something back and when Karrde does that so obviously, it makes me nervous."

"I think you're making a Star Destroyer out of an UGLIE," Han commented.  "I bet you the Falcon you'll see her running right for you any second now."

Luke couldn't help but laugh at Han's deterministic optimism, and was gladder than ever that he had his friend's stalwart presence there with him.  Taking a deep calming breath, Luke stepped forward into the waiting room—

—Just in time to see Mara burst from a door on the other side and bolt straight towards him.  For a moment he didn't respond, a little surprised that Mara would show such exuberant emotion when suddenly she shoved a nurse roughly out of her path.  It was then that Luke realized she wasn't running to him, she was going for the front door!

She ran full pelt into Luke and Han, both of whom were too dumb-founded to move.  She pushed them out of her way without so much as a glance and enough force to send them crashing into the broad doorsill.

"Mara!" Luke called after her.

"Stop her!" cried Talon Karrde, emerging from the same room Mara had so recently exited.  "Skywalker!  You have to bring her back!  She doesn't remember!"

"Pretty hard to forget falling off a cliff," Han remarked dryly as he and Luke struggled to their feet.

"She doesn't remember anything!" Karrde snarled, pulling Luke up.  "Not me, not you, not even her own name!"

"Emperor's black bones!" Han exclaimed as Luke swiftly disappeared through the door before Karrde could finish.  He knew he couldn't run down the small set of stairs so he attempted to jump the distance to the ground.  He made it but his legs buckled upon landing, sending him to his knees and scrambling for enough curses to adequately describe the situation.  Lamenting his decision to leave Cyan to manage Bairn of Hope in his absence, Luke started to run awkwardly after Mara's figure retreating into the surrounding jungle.

The trees lashed his face as he raced past, pushing his precarious balance to the limit.  At times he was only saved from crashing head first into the ground by the vary branches and brambles that ripped his clothes and slashed his skin.  He could see Mara running ahead of him, her lithe body slipping between the trees and brambles with inborn agility.  Luke pushed his body harder, knowing his slowly recovering legs wouldn't hold up for long and he would have to catch her soon if he was going to catch her at all.

He was concentrating so on pushing his tired legs onward that he didn't see the sudden dip in the land ahead of him.  With a cry he tumbled down in an ungainly heap, unable to catch himself as he slammed against rotted tree stumps and bushes clinging to the hillside.  When he finally reached the bottom he lay still for a moment, assessing how hurt he was.  He knew that he should get up as fast as he could but he also knew that if he was injured there was no way he would be able to catch his wife now.  By the time his breathing slowed to a slightly more normal pace he decided that there was nothing wrong besides some new bruises and impressive scrapes.  He opened his eyes and was greeted with Mara standing over him wringing her hands with a peculiar expression on her face.

"Are you ok?" she asked very tentatively.

"Yeah," Luke groaned, propping his upper body up on his elbows and noting with mild consternation that she didn't seem to be out of breath at all.  "Could you help me up?"

She nodded and knelt, placing her hand gingerly behind his back and pushing him to a more upright position.  Suddenly she grabbed his face in both hands.  "I know you!"

"So you do," Luke commented with a friendly smile made only partially ineffective by his grimace of pain.  Then he remembered what Karrde had shouted at him on his way out.  "I—"

"I know you!" Mara cried again, clasping him against her with complete disregard for any injuries incurred during his fall.  "I know you!  I know you!"

I n n o c e n c e  L o s t

Chapter II

It wasn't until that evening that Luke would be able to hear the full story from Karrde.

"I think we can safely assume it was the fall off the cliff that caused the memory loss—and let's face it, we're lucky that's the worst of it," Karrde explained.  "All we know is she crawled around the back streets of Duawl'g for a while and eventually snuck onto a hover-freighter where she found some food.  She got stuck on it when it left and they dumped her off a few miles from here on the cost.  She got lost in the jungle and was found unconscious by some mercenaries that work here.  They brought her to the hospice and she's been recovering ever since."

Han grunted and shook his head in wonderment, "Only Mara could manage to survive after something like that, even with amnesia."

 Luke didn't respond.  He sat with his legs curled against his chest and his gaze resting on Mara's sleeping figure seen through the slightly ajar door to her room.

"Um, kid…?" Han asked.

"Hmmm?" Luke murmured, not looking at him.

"Did you hear—"

"Yeah," Luke assured him, nodding absently, "I got the story."

"What do we do now?" Karrde asked quietly.  "The doctors aren't sure whether this is permanent or not."

Luke snorted, "Of course they're not."  His lip twisted as he got to his feet, "I'm sure it will take something as mentally traumatic as what caused this in the first place to bring her memory back."

"Where are you going?" Han asked after trading trouble glances with Karrde.

"Back to Bairn, I'm going to tell Cilghal to come down in the morning and take a look at her," Luke explained.  "She should be fine for the night, she knows she's safe now."

Han traded an even darker glance with Karrde and jogged to catch up to Luke.  "Hey kid," Han pointed out gently, "She remembered you."

Luke shook his head, "She doesn't remember me, she recognizes me.  Nothing more."

"But it's something," Han said emphatically.

"Yeah," Luke muttered, "but what?"

*          *          *

She woke early the next day, gradually slipping from sleep into the golden glow that poured from the small window beside her bed.  She sat up and looked around the little room, paying attention to her surroundings for the first time since she had come to this place.  The room was plain with little ornamentation on the clay walls.  There was an old dresser made of fine dark wood opposite to her and it had a large oval mirror adorning it.  She slipped out of bed, dragging the sheet with her as she crossed the room to look at her reflection.

She leaned close to the mirror and gingerly ran her hand across her cheek as if by touching it she might make it disappear.  She combed her fingers through her hair, wondering at the odd coloration of half red-gold fading into icy blue.  She squinted at her jade-flecked eyes and pouted at her rosy red lips.  She spoke, trying to remember her voice and trying to remember the word she uttered and failed on both accounts as she had failed with every other feature on her body.

"Mara."

She decided she liked her voice, though it was almost to deep; it felt rich as if it had some experience behind it that eluded the rest of her.  Glancing nervously at the door she opened the sheet and looked at the rest of her body.  Her skin was honey coloured from wandering around in the humid, almost perpetually sun drenched jungle.  It was marred here and there with scares of various sizes and ages and stretch marks across her belly—it too seemed to remember things the rest of her could not.  Looking closer at her face she saw sun wrinkles crinkling the corners of her eyes and slightly harsher lines framing her mouth.  She discovered that if she twisted her lip in just the right way she could manage the most sardonic, withering glare.  She wondered if that was what she was really like.

She flumped down on a battered old stool letting the sheet fall to her lap as she dourly regarded her reflection.  Suddenly the door to her room opened and she yelped, actually knocking herself off the stool in her hast to cover her nakedness.

She lay for a moment with her eyes squeezed tightly shut, until she felt someone touch her forehead and heard a familiar voice ask, "Are you all right?"  She peeked one eye open and upon seeing who it was threw herself into his embrace.  Luke returned it awkwardly, not entirely sure how to reconcile this new Mara with the old.

She turned her head away from his chest as if to respond and suddenly caught sight of the creature that still stood in the doorway, watching them intently.  She shrieked and jumped out of Luke's arms, ducking behind him.  "What's that?!"

"That's Cyan," Luke assured her, helping her to sit back on the bed.  "He's my friend.  It's ok, you can trust him just as you can trust me."

Mara's eyebrows raised a little distrusting so Cyan cautiously approached her and bumped her knee with his nose, "Hello, Mara, I'm very glad to see you again.  I should have waited to come in, but I forgot you wouldn't be used to me anymore." He spoke in a soothing croon that always seemed to reassure whomever it was he was speaking too.  Mara tentatively reached out and brushed his muzzle with the tips of her fingers and then a little more confidently she scratched behind his ebony horn, causing Cyan to purr approvingly.  Mara smiled tentatively and then looked at the doorway to see who else had come in.

Cilghal stood in the threshold blinking her bulbous eyes curiously, "Is it alright if I come in, Mara?"

"Um, I guess," Mara responded shyly, feeling a little overwhelmed.  She looked at Luke and he smiled supportively.

Cilghal dragged the stool over so she could sit in front of Mara and took her hand in her webbed fingers, dropping her mouth open in a Mon Calamari imitation of a smile.  "Thank you.  Now, Mara, I need you to relax.  I'm a healer and I'm going to see if we can't get your memory back."

"How?" Mara asked, her voice coming out a little breathy as Cilghal placed her free hand on Mara's right temple.

"I just need to take a look inside," Cilghal told her.  Luke sat by Mara, gently kneading her shoulders as Cilghal slipped subtly into her thoughts.  There was complete silence for a moment and Mara glanced around uneasily, noticing that the strangely sardonic man called Karrde was waiting outside the room, pacing anxiously.  Gradually she began to feel pressure at the back of her skull; she scratched there absently and then suddenly blacked out.  The next thing she knew she was lying on her back on the other side of the bed and there was considerable commotion going on beyond her line of site.  Then Luke's face was above her, somehow managing to look concerned, contrite and bemused all at the same time.

"Are you all right?" Luke asked sheepishly, giving her a hand climbing back onto the bed.

"I guess," Mara told him hesitantly, rubbing the back of her head again.  "What happened?"

"What did happen, Cilghal?" Luke asked as he settled down beside Mara.

Cilghal frowned, leaning stiffly against the dresser.  "I believe it is the same as what you told me happened to Corran when Mirax disappeared.  Except…"  She trailed off and when Luke prompted her to continue she motioned for him to follow her out of the room.

"I'll just be a minute, Cyan will wait with you," Luke assured her gently.

"Sure," Mara said, her brows crunching together.

"What is it, Cilghal?" Luke asked, as soon as they were out of earshot and Karrde had joined them.

Cilghal didn't answer at first, pressing her webbed hands together and thinking carefully about what she was going to say.  "It is hard to explain—there is a block there, and it was caused by some sort of trauma, yet when I was pushed it, it felt as if it had…it had been set up that way."

"Set up that way?" Karrde asked, confused.

"Well," Cilghal paused again and tried to find a clearer way to explain what she had felt just before she was thrown across the room.  "She was hurt in the fall—obviously, it's almost impossible that she wasn't—but Leia said that she and Mara were having an argument right before the ship hit and that Mara wasn't in the best of places emotionally…" Cilghal trailed off when she realized what she had just said but Luke waved her on, his expression blank.  "Well, anyway, maybe something happened on the way down, I don't know what, but when the block happened…maybe she didn't want to get rid of it, so she set up a defence mechanism to keep people out."

"It might not be that—Mara has very well developed reflexes for keeping people out of her head, it could have just been reflex," Luke commented, his expression still unreadable.

"That's true, and we won't know which until she gets her memory back, and I don't think I can do it," Cilghal told them frankly.  "Whatever the reason she has those defences there, I'm not skilled enough in that manner and I don't have enough of a rapport with her to break it down."  She blinked her bulbous eyes and then lowered them a little.  "Corran could have done it, I'm sure, but we have no one else with his skill and it is unlikely he will ever get use of the Force back ever again."

Chapter III

"Alright, kids, where are you hiding?" Corran demanded, walking into the pleasant glade that sat a few minutes behind the secret base on Haven; at least he had been told it was pleasant by Mirax, who he was sure he could trust in such maters.  Though Nelli was feeling too sick to come today, the rest of his young students were even more pleased about Corran's decision to take class in the clearing then he thought they would.  Unfortunately, as was typical with children their age, they also took great pleasure in pulling pranks and causing mischief whenever possible.  Corran sighed irritably as he shuffled alone beside the ever-faithful Olive.  Today was Corran's Life-Day and he had hoped to get this class over quickly so he could spend time with Mirax, Valin, and the Skywalker kids who were staying in his quarters until Han returned. 

Suddenly he heard giggling to his right and he followed Olive towards it, his hand resting on the "thumb" of the growing dragon's wing.  Olive stopped just before they reached the forest and let out a disapproving rumble before commenting in his deepening, ambiguous voice, "This is a very mean game to be playing with a man who cannot see."

"They are just children, Ollie, they miss that sometimes," Corran lightly admonished the emerald dragon.  "Though this is getting a trifle bit annoying."

The giggling sounded again, but this time it came from above them.  "Ah ha!" Olive exclaimed excitedly.  "They're just in the tree.  Just stand here a minute, Corran, I'll get the little rascals out."

"Certainly," Corran said as he let go of Olive's wing.  He felt the air whoosh past him as Olive launched himself into the tree.  He stood patiently—one couldn't help but learn such a skill in his condition, though it didn't make his life very exciting—and smiled in amusement at the sound of branches being rendered and Olive's eager growl.  Then there was silence when Olive stopped moving.

"Wha—?  Where are they?  Oh, that tree…" Olive muttered, and leapt to the next possibility.

Corran frowned for he was sure that the sound of giggling had definitely come from above them, so how had the children had been able to switch trees so quickly?  For that matter, how did Foly even climb a tree in the first place?  While she had arms, her four cloven hooves didn't do so well with that sort of obstacle and she wasn't strong enough to just pull herself up.  He stood very still and listened as hard as he could, trying to shut out the sounds of Olive wreaking havoc on the local plant life.  Then he smiled, feeling rather silly—these children were learning how to alter perception weren't they?  If anything he should be impressed were it not for the obvious ethical ramifications.

"Olive, they're not—" before he could finish his sentence he heard more giggling but this time from directly around him and then he was hit with a blinding flash of light that was so bright he fell over backwards.

Blinding flash of light?  How in the—

He wasn't given long to dwell on that miraculous occurrence since a glorious vista was suddenly spread out before him.  Rolling plains stretched all the way to the horizon, carpeted in yellow grass blowing gently in the brisk breeze.  Fat trees peppered the landscape, their leaves billowing with the grass, some breaking off and fluttering into the air.  A burst of seedpods exploded from one of the trees, soaring upwards on the breeze, sparkling in the sun.  The sky arched above, shading subtly into a deep blue that would disappear as the sun rose in the sky.  Some sort of delicate herd animals that reminded him of striped gazelle were grazing on the tough grass; without warning a canine bolted from behind a tree, setting the herd into motion, leaping and bounding impossibly high and impossibly far.  The canine tried its best to keep up, flattening and stretching its body out to its full extent, sleek muscles rippling beneath its sweaty skin—still it was no match for its pray.  The gazelles' passage disturbed a flock of avians foraging nearby and they launched skyward, their dark wings blotting out the morning sun.

As abruptly as the vision came it was gone and Corran found himself lying on his back in the grass, gasping for air.

"CHILDREN!!" Olive roared, leaping from the tree and galloping to Corran's side after breaking the vision they had projected for him.  "Why in the Void did you do that?!"

"It's his Life-Day present!" Foly exclaimed exuberantly, and Corran could hear the pitter-patter of her hooves against the ground as she kicked out.

"Yeah!" Swakan, the red-eyed Ral'ka agreed.  "We can't fix his eyes, but we can make it like we did.  It's what we're best at!"

Chell spoke up as it was her habit to explain, "We made you think Nelli was sick so she could go out to the plain and we could let Corran see what she sees, and it would look the same 'cause she's human.  He never got to see what Haven looks like, an' he helped find it for us.  We though he should…he's been such a fun teacher."

"And you, Tolly?" Olive demanded, though his voice seemed to have lost some of its harshness.  "What have you got to add?"

"Corran's our friend.  We just wanted to give him something no one else could," Tolly said quietly.  "We didn't mean to make him cry."

Corran touched his fingers to his cheek and sat up in wonderment when he felt damp skin.  He swallowed noisily and grabbed hold of Olive as soon as he came near.  "It's ok, Olive.  It—it's a nice thought; it just caught me off guard.  It was…beautiful…"

"Hurrah!" Foly shouted at the top of her lungs.  "It worked, it worked!"

"Alright, kids, let's head back, I don't think we're going to accomplish much today," Corran instructed them, trying to keep his voice and his knees from shaking too visibly.

"Are you ok?" asked Olive.

"Happy as a Hutt taking a face plant in a vat of nurf-stew," Corran muttered.

Olive sighed, "You know, I never understood that saying."

Later that morning Mirax returned to their living quarters to find Ben, Sorcha, Shane and Valin playing in the living room, watched by Olive.  Even though all the children were concentrating intently on some exercises Luke had taught them to improve their accuracy, Mirax was struck by the awkward air that hung heavily in the room—usually the children were more than eager to use the Force.

"Olive, where's Corran?" Mirax asked, casually dropping her coat on a chair.

Olive made a little burbling rumble in the back of his throat that Mirax had come to associate with him trying to hide something from the children.  "He's in the shower, but…I think he wanted to talk to you," he said pointedly, gesturing meaningfully to the refresher with his snout.

"His studentses gave 'im a present today," Shane said solemnly.

"He wa' surprised," Sorcha added.

"Don't wait for him to get out," Ben interjected, his face troubled, "He's very upset."

Olive snuffled in disgust, "Honestly, how am I supposed to shield you from life if you keep doing that?"

"I didn't know," Valin mumbled, clearly upset.  "What's wrong?  He's been in there for almost hour and the way he feels in the Force is…kinda weird."

"Just—just wait, I'll go check up on him.  I'm sure he's fine," Mirax told them, hurrying to the shower.  She slipped into the refresher and paused just inside the threshold.  If the shower had indeed been on for an hour it should have been a lot warmer than it was, but if anything it was cooler than the rest of the apartment.  "Corran?" she called gently, easing back the curtain.

There he was, propped precariously against the wall shivering under the spray of icy-cold water.  "Mirax?" he asked through chattering teeth.

"What in the Void are you doing?" Mirax demanded, snapping off the water and throwing the curtain open.  Snagging a towel she wrapped it snugly around his shoulders and helped him to step out of the stall.  She helped him sit on the floor when it seemed he might not make it much further.  "What happened?  The Skywalker kids said your students gave you a present—that's no reason to give yourself hypothermia!"

"They let me see, Mirax," Corran cut in, his voice a hoarse whisper.  "They showed me some part of Haven, I don't know where.  It was amazing, it was … beautiful …" Corran's voice drifted off as he laid his head on his folded knees.

"Oh, sweetie," Mirax murmured, "they were just—"

"I know, I know.  My Life-Day present.  I should be impressed, it was very convincing.  It…it was just such a shock.  They didn't warn me and-and-I don't know.  I was still shaking when I got home so I took a shower to relax," he finished lamely, snorting in disgust at his reaction and his inability to explain it.

Mirax didn't respond at first, she just stroked his hair and kept her arm around his shoulders to try and warm him up.  Eventually she said, "Most people take warm baths.  I mean, maybe it's just me but that's what I heard was the popular method."

Corran tried not to laugh but gave up fairly quickly, "Yes, true, but it was cold when I first got in and it felt good for some reason."

"Why is it you suddenly like the cold," Mirax asked.

Corran shrugged indifferently, "All part of a theme I guess, it's usually cold in the dark."

"What do you mean by that?" Mirax insisted.

"Nothing, never mind," Corran muttered sullenly.  "Can you help me to our room?  I think I want to lie down for a bit."

"Sure," Mirax responded though she didn't sound too sure about his flippant cast off of her concern.  She helped him to bed and was mildly surprised when he almost immediately fell asleep.  Then she snorted softly to herself—it was what he did nearly every night nowadays anyway.  Not that it was his fault, according to Luke he was holding up remarkably well for someone who had lost the ability to use the Force probably for the rest of his life.  Still, he behaved like he had lost everything about himself along with those abilities and she knew that was not true.  She married him for so many other reasons than that, and she just wished he would remember them too.

Pausing at the doorway to their bedroom, she looked back at him over her shoulder.  Maybe that was why Luke insisted that he teach those children and help with the administration of Haven, to remind him of all the other skills he had.  Or maybe it was just to keep him busy so he would not dwell on his depression too much.  Either way, it was a short-sighted delaying tactic, and she did not feel like watching her husband slip away into the dark.  She wasn't going to just wait for it to come.

*          *         *

"Good morning, Mirax," Leia said cheerfully. "How's Corran's Life-Day going so far?"

Mirax smiled pleasantly at Leia as she strolled in to see the suspended leader of the New Republic.  The suspension was almost up; Leia was set to return in two days so she had decided to spend the remainder of her time on Haven with her children before she headed back.  "I need to talk to you about him, actually."

"What about?" Leia asked, gesturing Mirax to a chair.  Mirax shut the door behind her and took a seat, trying to find where to begin.  "Is there something wrong with Corran?"

"Nothing more than what has been wrong with him for a while…except that now it's getting worse and I need your help," Mirax explained.

Leia's eyebrows raised in mild confusion, "My help?  Mirax, you and Corran are my friends but I don't think we're that close.  If you want someone to council him—"

"That's not what I need," Mirax interrupted impatiently.  "I need to get him back what he lost.  Before we lose all of him."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…" Mirax stopped, and then quickly decided that if Leia was going to help her she needed to know why.  "He keeps saying he's in the dark, and I don't think he's referring to what his eyes can see.  Today he said he likes the cold, and when I asked him why, he just said it was cold in the dark.  I don't understand for sure what he means, but I can guess.  I need to know, Leia, what's being done for him?  Or if anything can be done, so I can do it."

Leia compressed her lips and nodded, "I'm not going to mince words with you, Mirax, I'm just going to tell you what Luke's told me: we don't know what to do for him.  All the old lore says that Jedi that had this done to them eventually die, or kill themselves.  Does it seem like he might be thinking of suicide?"

Mirax looked up sharply and shook her head, "I don't know.  Right now I think he's too apathetic to do anything about his situation.  At least if he were trying to kill himself it would prove he was actually willing to do something with his life."

"That's not a very good best scenario," Leia commented dryly.

"No, it's not," Mirax agreed emphatically, "Which is why I'm here.  I want to go back to Courscant with you."

"Wouldn't it be better for you to stay and support Corran?" Leia asked.

Mirax barked out a derisive laugh, "Not really, all I'm doing here is fighting with Lando over acquiring what supplies where, and babysitting a husband who doesn't seem to know I'm there half the time.  I think I could be doing something much more constructive than either of those things."

"What do you hope to accomplish on Coruscant?" asked Leia, leaning back in her chair.

"I already told you," Mirax said impatiently, "I need to get Corran back what he lost, whatever the means."

Chapter IV

"Thank you for coming out here to find her," Luke told Karrde the next day, shaking his hand with sincere appreciation.  "You had a long way to go to get here."

"Well, if you hadn't asked I would have come anyway, you know that," Karrde said with one of his carefully controlled smiles.

Luke smiled back briefly as they walked to the bridge on Bairn of Hope.  "That's what I figured."

"So," Karrde asked after the conversation took a moment's pause, "where are you off to now?"

"Who wants to know?" Luke asked, throwing the former information smuggler a knowing grin.

Karrde shrugged, his face, as per usual, unreadable, "A lot of people, though honestly I'm just asking out of personal curiosity."

"Of course," Luke agreed, and then shrugged.  "I have an obstinate Jedi who ran off a while ago that I haven't been able to track down for some time.  I need to find him, and I want to try doing it while things have cooled down."

"You wouldn't be talking about one Wurth Skidder, would you?"

Luke stopped and glared at Karrde in mild exasperation, "You damn well know I am.  Where have your obscenely far reaching operatives seen him last, if I might ask?"

"I received reports that a man who was almost certainly identified as a Jedi landed on Baf.  He fits Wurth's description and behavioural patterns," Karrde informed him.

"What do you mean by behavioural patterns?" Luke asked, trying not to question why Karrde would bother investigating Jedi in the first place.

Karrde responded, "Let's just say Mr. Skidder has an easily identifiable style."

"Yeah, I figured that one a while ago," Luke remarked wryly.  "Do you think he's still on Baf?"

"Quite sure, he was picked up by the local authorities a few months back," Karrde assured him.

"What?" Luke exclaimed, grabbing Karrde's arm.  "Why didn't you tell me one of my Jedi had been arrested?"

"Because I found out yesterday.  I haven't been able to talk to this informant for a while, and since I was close by I decided to get in touch.  I would have told you earlier but you were with Mara and there wasn't much you could have done at the time until she was off planet, unless you were willing to leave her there," Karrde explained patiently.

Luke restrained a frustrated growl, "Well, thank you for the information.  Will you be coming with us?"

"No," Karrde said, shaking his head just as Luke reached the last door before the bridge.  "Since I'm in this part of space, I think I might look into a few other things personally before I go.  I'll leave some codes with you that you can use to contact me if you need to and all the information I have on Skidder's disappearance."

"Thanks.  May the Force be with you," Luke said as he accepted a data card from him.

"You too.  And contact me if anything changes with Mara," Karrde added as he left for his shuttle.

"I hope I can," Luke murmured when Karrde was out of earshot and then he entered the bridge.

"Does he even know why Wurth would have been arrested?  Or is Baf one of those pesky worlds where you can be charged for being an ass?" Han asked as he and Luke headed to their rooms later that day.  "'Cause he's defiantly chargeable with that."

Luke shrugged, "Apparently he didn't try all that hard to keep his Jedi identity a secrete.  He had his lightsaber out only slightly less than a half hour after arriving; he just didn't say directly to anyone that he was a Jedi.  I think he just assumed that since it was a backwater that no one would recognize a Jedi when they saw one.  Apparently, he was wrong.  The planetary government got wind of him and who he was, they took him into custody and none of Karrde's people have been able to track him down since."

"So what are you going to do?" Han asked.  "How are you going to find him when Karrde can't?  No offence but he's been at this for a while longer than you."

Luke grinned in a decidedly predatory manner, "Cyan's going to look for him."

"Ah," Han nodded, and then shuddered slightly when he thought of the carnage of Cyan's search approach.  "You sure that's the message you want to send?"

"That's exactly the message I want to send," Luke said firmly.  "We have offered aid to any world who wishes to fight against the Cragon, even if they just want to stay neutral and the Cragon are trying to take over.  But if they don't want to have anything to do with us, we leave them alone, no matter what side they're on.  Wurth, though he wasn't entirely peaceful, was arrested on a non-Cragon world simply because he was a Jedi.  And I don't think he is being kept in entirely comfortable circumstances, not if the research Karrde's people have done on the planet is correct.  That I won't tolerate, and the quicker and louder that message gets out the better.  An angry dragon makes quite the impression.  If they don't hand him over, they'll find out why."

Han snorted and shook his head, "Remind me never to kidnap any of your students."

"Certainly," Luke agreed, keying the door to his room.  "Hey, how long are going to stay with Bairn?"

"I'm not sure, Leia's already gone back to Coruscant, so I thought I might hang out here for a while," Han told him as the door to Luke's quarters slide open.  "I'll let you know when I know where I'm going.  Hey, uh, speaking of wives, when are you going to tell Mara you two are hitched?"

Luke sighed and leaned against the doorjamb.  "I'm not sure.  I don't know if that's going to be distracting or put extra pressure on her or what."

"Right, sure," Han commented drolly.  "Probably for the best.  I'll see ya tomorrow, kid."

"G'night," Luke called over his shoulder.  Walking through the threshold, he blinked at the dime interior.  "Mara?" he called, switching on the main light.  He heard a relieved sounding twerp coming from the kitchenette and glanced around the counter.  "Artoo?  Where's Mara?"  R2-D2 responded with a series of exasperated twerps and toots, the translation of which appeared on a data card rigged to the little astromech droid's side.  "She's hiding in her bed?"  Artoo moaned an affirmative, and further stated that whenever he had gone in to offer her food she had pulled the pillow over her head until he had gone away.  "Uh-huh.  Well, thanks for watching her for me, anyway.  Did you actually make her food?  Good, you want to help me bring it in?  I think all she needs is to be introduced.  I tried to explain to her that I wouldn't let anyone that would hurt her come near her, but skepticism seems to be a genetic trait."  Artoo blathered something that sounded mildly sardonic.  Luke smiled, "Yes, I realize the new Mara seems to be the antithesis of the old Mara, but the new Mara's only life experiences so far have been waking up at the bottom of a very large cliff and running for her life.  What do you think you would be like under those circumstances?"  Artoo totted flippantly and Luke glared at him.  "No, I don't think she's an evil clone sent to infiltrate us, I probably would have noticed that by now."  Artoo made an electronic snort and then trundled forward when Luke placed a tray of food on his dome.

"Mara?" Luke called again as he walked into their bedroom.  He started sleeping on the couch when she came on board, which he figured would be the best idea.  They weren't on speaking terms before the accident happened and he didn't think she would take it too favourable if when she got her memory back she found out he had ignored that part and just behaved as if there was no issue between them.  The other option would be to explain what had happened now, but he didn't think that would do much more than confuse her—she couldn't remember why she had done what she had done, and there was no telling how she would take it.

She heard him come in and sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest and regarding him with weary, sleepless eyes.  "Luke?"

"It's me," Luke said to her, switching on the light.  "What are you still doing in bed, sleepyhead?  It's almost supper time."

"I didn't know what to do," Mara said as Luke sat next to her on the bed and lifted the tray from Artoo's dome and set it on the bed beside her.  "Is that your droid?"

"It is indeed.  And if you get in trouble, there's no one better to have at your side, I assure you," Luke informed her, kicking off his boots.

Mara nodded, though as usual she didn't look like she entirely believed him.  "Is that for me?" she asked, looking hopefully at the tray.

"Of course!  Have you eaten all day?  You look half-starved," Luke exclaimed, just as mystified as ever at the coyness in the new Mara, something he had rarely seen in the old.

Mara shifted uncomfortably as she reached for some of the food, "I didn't know if I was allowed."

"Yes, you're allowed," Luke told her, chuckling.  "This is your room."

Mara nodded and then asked around a mouthful of mynock steak, "Why don't you sleep in your room?"

"Would you want me to?" Luke asked, trying not to make the comment teasing.

"No!" she said emphatically.  Then, as if she had just realized she might have offended him, she stammered, "I mean, you can if you want, it's just—"

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere.  I'm here to help you get better, remember?  That's a lot easier if I'm around," Luke remarked.  She giggled a little and then covered her mouth with her hand.  "Oh, she laughs!  Well, that's new."

"Shhh!  Don't make fun!" Mara laughed, shoving him playfully in the arm.  "It's all just so much, I don't know what to make of it all."

Luke laughed and sat back, propping his upper body upon his elbows.  "If it makes you feel any better, sometimes I can't make sense of it all, and I remember where I am."

"No, it doesn't make me feel better but less alone, which I suppose will have to be enough," Mara said thoughtfully, taking another big bite of mynock steak.  They sat in silence as Mara hungrily devoured her supper.  Luke watched her eat, smiling to himself as she ate with the same abandon as she always had—often had he heard her mutter insults of people who attempted to look good while they eat.  She tucked a wayward strain of half red, half blue hair behind her ear and then absently scratched the back of her neck.  No, Luke decided, the new Mara was not the antithesis of the old, probably just an earlier version.  Perhaps what Mara might have been like if she hadn't been raised by the Emperor.  Well, maybe she wouldn't have been quite this timid, but she wasn't so alien as everyone found her. 

Mid-chew she finally realized how hard he was looking at her.  She paused and her right eyebrow quirked and Luke laughed.  "Mara, you haven't forgotten everything, it's right on the tip of your tongue."

"Uh-huh," she grunted, then swallowed her last bite.  "If you say so."

"I don't say so, I know so," Luke stated and got to his feet, offering her his hand.

She grasped it and pulled herself to her feet and brushed the few crumbs that had fallen on her to the floor.  "Are we going somewhere?

"Yep," he confirmed, "get dressed, I want to try something."

Once she had changed into something more suitable, he took her down to the training centre located in the middle of the ship.  It was late by then so there were few others around.  Mostly those who had come to meditate somewhere private yet out of their rooms or some of the nocturnal species living on the ship.  More than a few were becoming a little tired of sitting in their quarters whenever there wasn't a battle or training session to go to.  Bairn was decidedly lacking in entertainment facilities.

"So, what is it you wanted to try?" Mara asked, strolling casually to the centre of a large rectangular chamber.  The floor was covered with firm rubber mats except for one section that stretch out for about a metre from the back wall.

"I was wondering which room you would go to," Luke commented, walking in behind her.  "I figured you'd pick this one.  Do you know what it's used for?"

She shook her head, hugging her arms together, "No, not really.  Do you exercise here?"

"That's what this whole section is for basically," Luke explained.  "This is the sparring room."

"Sparring?  Did I do that?" she asked.

Luke nodded.  "You were very good, I assure you.  I was just wondering if you could still do any of it.  I mean, you didn't forget everything you knew; you can still talk, dress yourself, all that.  Fighting is something you've done for probably just as long as those things, I thought we'd give it a try.  It's a place to start anyway."

"You want to fight?" she demanded nervously.

"Not fight, spar," Luke told her.  "That's different, we're not trying to hurt each other, we're just practicing.  You and I could spar like we really were fighting someone and not hurt each other.  I'm not suggesting we get that into it, I just want to test, see how much you remember.  Don't worry, if you don't remember any of it, I'll figure it out quickly enough."

"This isn't going to end with you accidentally punching me in the face, is it?" she asked wryly.

Luke laughed and shook his head.  "I sincerely doubt it.  Now just relax, I'm going to give a few test jabs, they won't even come close to hitting your face, I promise.  Just try and defend yourself as if they were."

"Alright, I guess," Mara said shaking out her hands and instinctively dropped into a combat stance.  Luke grinned—she was going to do just fine.

He started out easy, and though she overreacted in blocking them most of the time, she never missed.  Giving her lots of encouragement, he then stepped up his attack, gradually increasing the difficulty, giving her lots of time to adapt.  As they went, he wondered if he needed to bother, he probably could have thrown something the old Mara would have had a bit of a hard time with and she would have been fine.  She was starting to get the rhythm too, and he picked up the pace.  They had been fighting for a fair bit of time and Luke was still impressed though not overly surprised—the old Mara was in there, she just didn't feel like showing her face just yet.

He decided to call it quits and as a finish he threw a rather aggressive roundhouse, but didn't withdraw quite as quickly as he should have.  She easily leaned out of harms way and deflected the blow away from her face.  Consequently, when she grabbed his arm and managed to flip him neatly over her shoulder and onto his back he didn't even get the chance to defend himself.  She was on him in a flash, one hand at his throat and the other drawn back, ready to strike while she straddled his legs.  Luke lay stunned for a moment and then laughed.

"That was excellent!" he exclaimed, rubbing his throat absently when she let go and sat back expectantly.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" she asked suddenly, as if just realizing she might have caused him harm.

Luke grinned and shook his head reassuringly.  "No, I've had that done to me more times than I can count, many of those by you, I might add.  You've always been good at that and I left myself wide open."

"Serves you right, then," Mara said imperiously, tucking her hair behind her ears.  "Is that all we're going to do?"

"For today," Luke confirmed, trying to ignore where she was sitting and how good she always looked after a good workout.  "I know you got the all clear from Cilghal, but there's no use pushing it too far."

She nodded then got to her feet.  "Luke, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

She opened her mouth and then closed it, then shook her head.  "Never mind."

"C'mon," Luke encouraged her, pushing himself to his feet.  "You can ask me anything you want."

She pushed the same errant strand of hair behind her ear and then ask hurriedly, "Why do I sometimes feel like I know exactly what someone's feeling?  Or sometimes I'm so sure someone's about to walk into the room and then they do?"

Luke nodded, unsurprised.  He was wondering when she would ask about that, though he was fairly sure that wasn't what she was originally going to ask.  "That's the Force."

"That isn't all you're going to tell me, is it?" she asked.

"No!" Luke exclaimed, laughing.  "No, but I can't just explain the Force to you in one sitting.  Actually, I don't think anyone has ever come up with an all encompassing definition that works.  I want to ease you back into that knowledge gradually; the Force can be dangerous if used improperly.  Just know that you can trust it, and it will only fail you if you lose faith in it.  Just relax and it will come to you and give you guidance when you need it."

She nodded slowly, "Thanks, it was starting to freak me out."

"Yeah, I can see how it would," Luke agreed.  He tossed her a towel and then grabbed one of his own and wiped the sweat from his face before asked, "Is there anything else you wanted to ask me?"

"No," she said, almost sounding defeated, "not now."

Chapter V

Cyan turned to Luke and raised a brow, commenting, "Obi-Wan was wrong about one thing, I think we have found a more wretched hive of scum and villainy."

"You may be right," Luke said, nodding glumly as he, Cyan and Han exited Baf's main space port.

"Yeeeah," Han drawled.  "Kid, this place makes Nar-Shadda look like Alderaan.  Why in the cold black void would Wurth come here?"

"I think he was looking for something, I just wish I knew what," Luke said, slipping past a large thong of people on the narrow, soiled sidewalk.

Cyan snorted, "If Wurth found what he thought he was looking for, we probably wouldn't have needed Karrde to tell us where he was.  It would have made the holonet, even out here."

"True," Luke agreed absently, his eyes drifting over the thongs of pedestrians.  "Have you guys noticed that there are an awful lot of humans around here?"

"And not a Chiss in sight," Han added, suddenly becoming aware of the phenomenon.

Cyan sniffed suspiciously, "Besides the somewhat unpleasant scenery, why would all Chiss avoid this place?  We've found them on far less civilized worlds."

"I don't know, it's just…" Luke paused, trying to identify the elusive, yet unsettling feeling niggling at the back of his skull since he first laid eyes on Baf "I feel almost as though I've been here before."

"You haven't," Cyan assured his padmiri, a little perturbed that he hadn't picked up on Luke's feelings.

Luke shrugged, "I know I haven't, maybe it just means I'm supposed to be here."

"Oh, that means trouble," Han declared.

Cyan growled in annoyance, "Why do you always say that whenever Luke senses something—"

"First of all, because something bad always happens whenever he says something like that.  Secondly," he added much more pronouncedly, pointing ahead to several uniform clad men heading towards them with drawn blasters, "I was actually just referring to them."

"Oh," Luke exclaimed mildly.

"What do we do?" Cyan demanded, his ridge flattening as he unfurled his wings.  "Should we fight or run?"

"Neither," Luke said calmly, "we let them take us."

*          *          *

"I really appreciated you bringing me with you."

"No problem," Leia assured Mirax as they approached Coruscant in Mirax's ship, the Pulsar Skate.  "I'm feeling surprisingly like a ruthless politician and any help you want to give me in dealing with Blacksky is more than welcome."

Mirax smiled grimly then shrugged, "Well, I'm a little out of my element when it comes to politics, so I think you may be doing most of the work."

"You know what?  I don't think this is going to be won with straight politics.  Oh, sure," Leia went on after Mirax threw her a troubled glance, "in the end that's what we'll use.  But Blacksky is an experienced politician and it won't be easy to find an opening without doing some outside digging.  We need evidence that can hold up in a criminal investigation, and we certainly won't be finding that in any official spheres."

"So…does that mean we'll be working in my sphere of influence?" Mirax asked slyly.

Now it was Leia's turn to grin, "You could say that."

*        *        *

"Please?" Ben intoned, grabbing Corran's sleeve and tugging incessantly.

Wisp grabbed the other sleeve and repeated, "Pleeee-aaaaase?"

Corran sighed in exasperation and gave up, "All right, but only if Olive and I go with you."

"You don't have too," Wisp said and Corran snorted.

"No, he should," Ben interrupted, sounding thoughtful.  "It feels like he should."

"And he can get away from the base.  Just because you're wife isn't here doesn't mean you get to be a hermit," Olive commented, nudging Corran's shoulder with his snout in mild reprimand.

Corran laughed at their insistence, "Fine!  I said yes, didn't I?"

"Hmm…" was all Olive responded as he handed Corran his coat.  Ever since Mirax left with Leia, Olive took it upon himself to see that Corran kept active.  "We'll see how enthusiastic you are once we're airborne."

"Airborne?  C'mon, Olive…"

"I need to stretch my wings or I won't be able to use them when I really need to," Olive replied, unperturbed by Corran's dismay.  "Besides, I wasn't made to walk.  I run, or I fly."

"Cyan walks really well," Ben pointed out as they exited the Haven Compound.

Olive sighed, "Yes, well, Cyan has a padmiri to work with him and make him get good at those sorts of things."

"Do you wish you had a padmiri, Ollie?" Wisp asked.

"Of course, don't you?" Olive asked Wisp, surprised she did not know.

Wisp giggled and clambered aboard Olive's back once Ben had secured the straps on the large saddle made to accommodate multiple passengers.  "I don't need a padmiri, I got Ben to be my best friend."

Olive sighed, "A padmiri is a little different than a friend.  It's like the difference between a best friend and someone you're married to.  Not even death can keep you apart."

"So?  I know Ben and I will be together forever, no matter what," Wisp said confidently, grinning at him as he sat behind her and strapped himself in.

"I don't think any of us know what it's like to have a padmiri except Cyan.  An' you know what, Ollie?  It's good that you don't have one 'cause that means you get to stay with us," Ben pointed out in his usual sombre manner.  "It's nice to know at least someone will stick around."

Olive didn't answer Ben's comment right away.  Crouching low, he pushed off as hard as he could to get enough airspace to produce the all important first down stroke.  Once they had climbed high enough that Olive could fly level, he reply carefully, "I don't go away because those who love you want a dragon near to protect you because they can't be here themselves.  If your mum and da didn't have to fight, they would be here."

"Mum doesn't want to be here," Ben said in the same tone as before.  "She ran away and hid, and won't even come up when da went looking for her."

"That's not true, Ben.  Your mum got really hurt, but now she's with your da and she's going to get better.  Just because she doesn't remember you doesn't mean the part of her that still knows you're her son doesn't love you anymore," Corran stated, gripping the back of the saddle firmly in his hands to keep his balance.

Ben replied, "You don't get it.  She's hiding and she won't come out until she has to."

"She'll be ok, Ben," Olive insisted, not really understanding what the boy meant—he could be so cryptic at times.  "It's just going to take some time."

Ben did not answer so Olive continued to fly, pumping a little faster then he had too since the usual sense of freedom he felt when airborne was now lost.

"Why did you want to go down the canyon today anyways, you two?" Corran asked once the silence seemed to carry on for a little too long.

Wisp giggled, as usual not picking up on the awkward situation.  "Ben said he felt like we should be here today."

"Of course," Corran said with a smile, "I should have guessed.  Keep that up, Ben, and you'll always be in the right place at the right time."

"I hope," Ben said softly.

Olive took them to where the canyon began to gradually rise and then spread out onto a broad plain.  He circled, gradually getting closer and closer to the ground until his speed slacked enough for him to control his landing.  "I hope we don't scare off the stripped gazelle.  They seem to have figured out that I like to eat them."

"Gosh, Ollie, why would that make them nervous?" Corran asked, smiling as he waited for the kids to help him dismount.

"Come in with us!" Wisp called to Corran as she and Ben shirked out of their clothes and bolted for a small spring that several of the gazelle were drinking from.

"That's ok," Corran told her, laughing as he felt his way around the buckles to Olive's saddle and slipped it off the dragon's back.  "I won't know where the shore is, and virgin eyes such as yours don't need to see a wet, naked, forty-five year old body.  I may not be able to tell what I look like, but I've still got a little bit of modesty left."

"That's a lie and you know it," Olive quipped before taking a giant leap into the spring.

Corran smiled and settled into coarse grass that bordered the spring, trusting Olive to spot any trouble before it arrived.  He propped his back against Olive's saddle and closed his eyes, dozing in the late afternoon sun.

The air had cooled slightly by the time Ben, Olive and Wisp decided to come out of the water.  "We should have come sooner," Wisp complained.  "It's almost too cool to dry now."

"Nonsense," Olive said derisively, fanning out his scales and shaking most of the water from his body.  "Besides, we brought towels, you'll be fine.  In fact, if you don't mind, I think all that swimming made me hungry."

"The gazelle will be gone in a week," Corran declared sleepily.

Wisp giggled and spread out her towel beside Corran.  "Where's Valin?"

"What time is it?"

"Just past 18:00."

"He's still in class then," Corran said, letting his eyes drift shut again.  "We don't have to be back for another half and hour so if you kids want to nap in the sun, I'm certainly alright with it."

They settled in and enjoyed the last rays of the evening sun.  Olive watched them from the air for a moment, doing a lazy circle to make sure there was no danger nearby and to scope out the best method of attack on the herd of gazelle.  He could drive them into the canyon, except that Corran and the children would probably be trampled to death in the process, so that possibility was eliminated fairly quickly.  The only other option would be to come at the herd from the canyon, except that would drive them out onto the plain where they would have flat ground and plenty of running room.  On the other hand, they also would be without cover, and he felt like a bit of a chase.  Frankly, Olive was surprised nothing else had chased the gazelle off already; from what he could see they had been there for quite some time.  Dismissing it as luck, Olive dipped towards the herd with a bellow—if he was going to hunt, it might as well be a good one.

Ben lay on his back, his eyes turned skyward as well.  Olive had long since disappeared from his line of sight, but the small boy was uninterested in watching the dragon hunt—he had seen it enough.  Corran seemed to have already drifted off again, and Wisp looked fit to join him.  Oddly Ben did not feel sleepy in the least.  Looking up at the sky he felt a little jolt of excitement run through him.  It was the same sensation he got when a storm was coming, yet somehow this felt different.  The sky was deeper somehow, more like he was looking into the depths of a great ocean and there was nothing to stop him from plunging in. 

Disconcerted, Ben sat up and was met face to face with one of the canines that liked to hunt the stripped gazelle.  It was scarcely a metre away, crouched close to the ground, ready to pounce.  Ben sat frozen, not knowing what to do, wondering frantically how the canine had managed to sneak up on him and how he was going to deal with it.  He knew the moment he made a noise the canine would pounce and he did not think he could push it to the side hard enough to keep it from reaching them.  He tried to summon the Force to trick its mind—if he could make Cyan and Olive think he wasn't there, and then maybe he could convince the canine of the same thing.  Yet as much as he tried to call on the Force, he was too frightened and all he could focus on was the canine's unblinking eyes.  The canine lowered its crouch just slightly and Ben screamed, knowing he was no match for the predator.  It leapt into the air, it's lips pulled away from its yellow fangs and a vicious snarl rumbling from its throat—

—A snarl that changed to a whimper when Olive dove from the sky, ramming into the canine and driving it to the ground.  It struggled briefly, then Olive bit down on its neck and with a quick twist of his head ended the canine's life.

"Son of a Sith!" Corran exclaimed, woken by Ben's scream.  "What just happened?"

"One of the canines tried to attack you after I drove away the herd it was hunting," Olive explained, glancing disgustedly at the corpse.  "I thought it was weird that the herd had sat so long in one place, I figured it was just luck and went after them myself.  Then I remembered that the canines usually waited until dusk and dawn to do their hunting and after I had driven the herd off I decided to make sure none were hanging around here.  Once when I was hunting with Cyan, three of them attacked him after he had brought down a big buck."

"Just fearless enough to attack a couple of sleeping humans and a Chiss," Corran commented sardonically.  "Wisp, Ben, are you two all right?"

"I'm ok, but Ben still looks scared," Wisp said, moving beside her friend and giving him a hug.

Olive crooned sympathetically.  "Don't worry, Ben, I got him.  And if I hadn't come you could have stopped him with the Force no problem."

"B-but I couldn't," Ben whispered.

"What do you mean?" Corran asked gently.  "I was told that you've shifted things plenty bigger and moving much faster than that canine could have managed."

"But I couldn't!" Ben cried, holding on to Wisp.  "I was scared and I couldn't feel the Force."

"Oh!  Oh, Ben, that's nothing to be ashamed of," Corran reassured him, reaching over and squeezing the boy's shoulder reassuringly.  "We've all frozen up out of fear at some point in our lives.  It could have happened to any—"

"No!  I mean I couldn't feel the Force at all!  It's like I couldn't use it ever!"

Chapter VI

"Isn't it radiant?  For all the technology, pollution and decay we have poured onto her, Coruscant can still amaze with her natural beauty.  It's always the sunrise that gets me.  I feel as though I share some sort of affinity with that star, who simply by being dictates the tempo of the civilized galaxy.  Her power, her blazing glory—often ignored—is essential to the order of things.  Any change in the sun, and the effects are felt everywhere.  When she was born, she spawned the most influential world ever known.  When she goes out, it will be a darkness that ends all light.  She and I are the essential piece of forgotten power that the rules of this galaxy—no matter who they are—cannot do without.  Don't you agree, Saellah?"

"You are very poetic, Senator Blacksky," was all Saellah replied.  She was unusually pale for a Chiss, with delicate features and almond shaped eyes.  It was a complexion that had helped to ingrate her with many of the Chiss and Chisgon elite.  Now she was stuck on this putrid, rotting metropolis that was covered in the arrogant descendents of those who had nearly destroyed her people.  The damn planet didn't even have any of its own trees left.

Blacksky kept her eyes on the broad view port looking out from her office on the third highest floor in the Rellsi Hotel, one of the most prominent Hotels on Courscant.  "You know, as much as you Cragon try and pretend you're different than your Chiss brethren, you're really just the same people with different ideas about the way fate should work.  And that, my dear, is why the Cragon will rule.  Those who have the drive to succeed always wind up on top.  Well, with a little help, of course."

"For which you have been more than amply compensated," Saellah pointed out.

Blacksky smiled.  "Yes.  Saellah, my dear, it is one thing to see and empathise with the sun, it is quite another to know what it feels inside."

"I'm sure it's spectacular," Saellah murmured.

Blacksky's smile deepened.  "So…what are you here to tell me today?"

"President Leia Organa Solo is returning to Coruscant.  One of our infiltrators overheard her speaking to Mirax Terrick-Horn of her intention to confront you and take back what was stolen from Master Horn."

"Corran Horn, Saellah, no longer Master.  He is just the meat on his bones now, no more special than I was.  And he shall remain that way, but I—" Blacksky touched her finger just behind her ear, "—have the ambition, and the power, to keep what is now mine.  Let Organa Solo return, I've learned to use the Force to a much greater degree since she left.  Even if she manages to get an order for me to be tested, it will not be difficult to…change the doctor's mind."

"And if the verdict is delivered by a droid?  What then, Senator?" Saellah demanded, mildly amused by Blacksky's superior tone.

"Then I believe it is your job to see to it that you do not lose your best asset on this side of the galaxy, Agent Saellah," Blacksky responded, finally turning from the window to regard the Cragon.

"Of course," Saellah consented with a small smile.  Let Blacksky think whatever she wanted to, if it made her do her job better the Cragon would humour her…so long as it was beneficial to them.  "Since I have delivered my information, I had best be going."

Blacksky nodded, and then raised a dark skinned hand.  "Wait.  You say Organa Solo was speaking with Corran Horn's wife?"

"Yes, Mirax Terrick-Horn

"Did her husband come with her?"

"No, we know he's still at the Jedi base," Saellah told her, smiling inwardly.  If what you have isn't his anymore, than why are you so afraid that he'll take it back?  "His current mental state is consistent with the historical records we still have concerning the effect one should expect to see in someone of his … unique condition."

Blacksky nodded, "Those effects end in death, do they not?"

"Not always but the research we salvaged from the last war seems to suggest that death is the likely response."

"I think you misunderstood," Blacksky said, levelling her glare at Saellah and then explained with false sweetness, "Those historical tests are the result of many years of research on the part of your ancestors.  A theory is only true when any group of people can reproduce it with the same results.  So, unless you actually want the lore of your people to not come true—such as the lore that concerns a certain prophecy—then maybe you should make sure that current data coincides with the theories of your ancestors."

Saellah returned Blacksky's glare without flinching or betraying any other emotion Blacksky might have found useful.  "Corran Horn will die.  He will die just as all the Jedi will most assuredly die.  The only question is how and my superiors believe that if he does it on his own, the effect on the others will be even greater."

"Someone should still keep an eye on Mrs. Horn," Blacksky insisted, turning back to the window.

"You let us worry about who to keep an eye on, Senator," Saellah recommended, heading for the door, "that is our department after all."

*          *          *

"Yes it is," Mirax assented on the other side of Imperial City.  "Which is why I came to you.  Leia would come but we felt it would be wiser if she stayed away from any underhanded or not completely official methods in this investigation.  I on the other hand have no such qualms."

"Well, I'm sure that if I didn't help you, I'd never hear the end of it from Booster," Talon Karrde commented wryly.

Mirax smiled briefly before getting down to business, "So, will you help us?"

"I think I can be of some assistance," Karrde confirmed.  "I have been quietly monitoring more than a few senators for some time now, Blacksky was already on the list.  We know that on occasion she disappears from any observable point and we're still trying to figure out where it is she goes off too.  I've asked Shadda to take a look at it personally and I'm sure she'll be happy to have you working with her."

"Thank you.  Ah, have you found anything else about Blacksky that might help us?" Mirax asked.

Karrde nodded and answered, "Yes.  We've determined that she did leave Coruscant for a period of six weeks just days after Corran was captured on Cragon's Pride.  Her records officially state that she went back to Duros, but we've yet to confirm that.  None of her accounts have changed in any suspicious way but there have been some rather marked changes in her behaviour that may or may not be telling."

Mirax frowned, "What do you mean?"

"Well, since her absence she's become much more aggressive in the Senate, pulling people to her side in arguments where it seems somewhat irrational or premature for them to capitulate.  She also seems to have started gambling more than she used to.  Not only that, but her winning streak is defying the laws of statistics."

"Hmm, why ad a suspicious sum of money to her account which can be traced, when you can just give her the ability to increase her position all on her own," Mirax said, nodding grimly.  "And I bet I know how she does it."

Karrde raised an eyebrow and commented dryly, "Yes, it is fortunate that they try and instil all those unselfish morals into Jedi.  They could make a fortune on the stock market."  Mirax shot Karrde a dirty look and he cleared his throat uncomfortably.  "So, anyways, I was thinking the best route would be for you to try and figure out exactly where she went for those six weeks, while Shadda investigates where Blacksky's been disappearing to here on Coruscant."

"How am I supposed to do that?" Mirax demanded.

"Go to Duros and have a chat with her alibi."

"Who's her alibi?" Mirax asked.

Karrde sighed, "Her dedicated and slightly fanatical husband."

*          *          *

"Well, if the President had been prudent enough to stay up to date during her suspension, she would understand that the situation has changed," Blacksky commented blandly during the first meeting of the Senate upon Leia's return.

Leia pressed the tips of her fingers together under the table and ran through a Jedi calming meditation.  The meeting started ten minutes ago and already Blacksky was aggravating her.  With a final calming sigh Leia reminded herself that Blacksky could use the Force and was doing so to influence the responses of those around her.  Raising a mental shield that Mara had taught her, Leia formulated her reply, "I have kept up to date during my absence, Senator, but that still does not explain why the Water Bill still hasn't been put into effect on Tatooine.  It has been passed for years, there is no reason for the delay."

"The supplies that were slated to be sent to Tatooine have been diverted to an emergency stockpile," Blacksky explained as if the answer should have been obvious.

"Emergency stockpile for what?" Leia demanded.  "The only sign of a large enough threat to warrant that is a threat this council thus far has refused to acknowledge exists."

"Another threat has developed since then," Brosk Fey'lya told her, his fur rippling in irritation.

"Like what?"

Blacksky smiled serenely, "We believe that the little organization your brother is commanding has shown a strong possibility of attacking us."

Leia blinked, stunned.  "Are you actually serious?"

"Deadly," Blacksky assured her.  "You of all people should appreciate the dangers of a large group of Jedi running around unchecked."

Leia snorted derisively, "The Jedi are just as 'checked' as they've been for years.  If any of you were under the impression that this government was doing the checking then you are sadly mistaken.  The Jedi have been given special privileges by both the Old and the New Republic precisely because a generalized governmental body made up mostly of non-Jedi cannot grasp the needs of a Force sensitive population.  The Jedi pledge themselves to helping all those in need, and are charged with doing whatever is necessary to be effective in that goal."  Leia shrugged noticing that Blacksky was attempting to distract the other senators.  Easily blocking the untrained effort, Leia quirked an eyebrow at her adversary, "It's the single renegades that are in it for the power that should be worrying us.  Certainly not those with proper training."

"Really?" Blacksky mused, rapping her knuckles across the table.  "So what you're saying is that someone with proper training could never be a threat to us but it is impossible to master the Force on your own?"

Leia shook her head, outwardly calm.  Inwardly she was growing more and more worried.  If Blacksky was tapping into the Dark Side, and unless they did something about her, she would eventually become very powerful.  "That's not what I'm saying.  What I meant is that the Jedi are under the same rules as they were when they were members of the New Republic, and with proper training in the Force you are much more likely to choose the right path.  It's the people who seek power in the Force for the sake of that power who eventually become people like Palpatine."

Blacksky looked as though she was about to respond but the Chandrilla senator Paal Brouyaquia interrupted, "Could we please get back to the matter at hand?  As interesting as the ethics of the Jedi are to the rest of us, I do not believe they are entirely relevant.  There has been a great deal of support in the past, including yourself President, in favour of creating an emergency stockpile.  Once we have garnered enough supplies shipment to Tatooine—and other systems that have had their imports shortened—will resume as before."

"If that is the will of the majority, then so be it," Leia consented.  She could sense that many had conflicting views on this bill, but the reasoning for each varied.  Blacksky did not have control yet.  "I still believe we need to discuss just whom is considered a threat to the New Republic.  Since our treaty with the Empire, perhaps it is time to focus our resources on other problems besides just smugglers."

"I agree, which is why I would like to bring this council's attention to some reports I've received…"

Leia listened to Fey'lya's point with one half of her mind while the other kept careful watch on Blacksky for the rest of the meeting, thwarting the senator's attempts to influence the others.  Suddenly the two main aspects of Leia's life were melding together as they never had before.

Chapter VII

"I'm…sure yea be knowin' why yea're 'ere, Master Jedi," the man drawled as he and several guards sat in room with Luke, Han and Cyan.  The only source of light was a small window set high in the wall, silhouetting their interrogator.

Luke shrugged, "No, actually I was unaware that we had violated any laws since landing.  We followed all of the procedures sent to us by the landing facili—"

"Shut up!" the interrogator snarled, standing up and blocking the light from the window.  He was a slender man with defined cheekbones and short, mousy brown hair on his head and in his moustache.  His eyes flickered to each of the three companions, lingering the longest on Cyan and narrowing in barely contained fury.  "Before yea came back they were content te leave us alone.  They were content te forget this world existed.  Now they have te do somethang 'bout us.  We'll not be lettin' yea Force Following slime destroy our home!"

"That is not our intention in coming here.  We're simply seeking one of our own who came here for his own reasons," Luke explained patiently, though what this man was saying was very intriguing.  Why would the Cragon suddenly show interest in a world they seem to be avoiding like the plague?

"We have reason to believe he was taken into custody shortly after arriving.  We would simply like to know why," Cyan added more firmly.

Their interrogator snorted, "Nothin' o' th' sort happened.  A Jedi was spotted causing trouble near th' market and then he disappeared.  He hasnea been seen since an' his ship took off two days after he was last sighted.  The records say he went te th' Xeo-Gl'a mining colony."

"Really?" Han asked, unbelieving.

"Really," the interrogator confirmed.  "Now, since I cannea confirm or deny yer story we'll be lettin' yea go on th' condition that yea leave our world for good an' move yer ship out of orbit—or we'll be movin' it for yea."

He does realize that this planet doesn't have the firepower necessary to "be movin' " Bairn from orbit, doesn't he? Cyan asked Luke quickly through the Force.

He's aware, Luke assured, looking at the interrogator closely.  He just doesn't care.  I think he and most of the population of this world would be willing to throw all they have at us if it would get us to go.  "Are you certain we couldn't just be allowed to take a look around the sections where our friend may have been—"

"No, there be nothing' thar that could be helpin' yea.  Some o' our officers will be escortin' yea back te yer shuttle," the interrogator added, rising from his chair and swiftly exited the clammy room.  And that was the end of that.  The remaining guards unholstered their blasters and gestured for Han, Luke and Cyan to get up.  With two guards in front and two behind, the group made their way briskly back to the spaceport.  As they went Han swept his eyes over the muddy sidewalks and dirtier denizens.  Just ahead he spotted a young boy with his coat spread out on the street and holding a guitar in his hands.  Yet instead of playing it he was gawping at Han, Luke and Cyan.  While they had earned more than a few stares as they travelled back to the station, especially Cyan, the boy was looking at them with an intensity that was surprising.  Almost as if he wanted to speak to them but was too frightened to do so.  Reaching into his pocket, Han found what he was looking for and dropped in on the coat as they went past.  The guards behind them hardly gave it a glance. 

When they reached the ship the spaceport authority asked for the data card identifying them as the owners of the shuttle.  Luke turned to Han, "You had it didn't you?"

"Oh, yeah," Han muttered, fishing around in his pocket.  After checking them all he smiled sheepishly, "Ah, I think I dropped it somewhere."

"Here 'tis," said the scruffy boy they had passed earlier.

Han grinned and patted the boy on the shoulder, "There you are.  I thought we were going to have to leave you behind."

"Yeah, yea wouldnea be wantin' that," the boy said unflinchingly.

"Alright, let's get on board," Han said brightly, steering the boy up the ramp.

Luke and Cyan traded a quick glance.  "Yeah," Cyan said. 

Once they were up the ramp the dragon caught Han's shirt sleeve while Luke deftly directed the boy further into the ship—they couldn't stop now.  As the ramp closed and the boy moved out of earshot Cyan asked, "Han, you know we're all about helping the helpless just as much as you, but we usually don't just randomly haul the poor onto our ships, especially just after we've been ordered out of the system."

"What, are Jedi the only ones aloud to play hunches?" Han demanded, heading towards the main gathering area where Luke had taken the boy.

Luke's expression was dark when they entered and he waved Han and Cyan over, "This is Poepoe, and he says he knows what happened to Wurth."

Cyan glared at Han, "You defy all previously Jedi held notions of luck."

"I know," Han said smugly, heading toward the cockpit.  "So why don't you tell Luke and Cyan what happened to our friend Wurth while I left us off, alright kid?"

After Han left Poepoe crossed his arms and said, "Yea gotta promise mea somethin' first.  Mea sistar got put in jail on account o' helpin' yer friend out.  Ifen I be tellin' yea where an' what happened te Wurth, yea gotta get mea sistar out o' thar."

"You realize, Poepoe, that we've been restricted from going back to the planet.  We'll have to risk our lives just to put you back down later, and we might not be able to get into this prison," Luke explained.

"Dinnea be given mea that!  Yer Jedi, yea can be gettin' inte just 'bout any place yea set yer minds te.  An' afte' yea 'ear what happened te Wurth, yea'll wanna be headin' right back down anyway," Poepoe said, unfazed.

"You give us too much credit," Cyan said blandly.  "Why don't we promise to try and free your sister—if we can get to her and your information helps us get our friend back."

"Ifen yea promise te try, I'll be tellin' yea what I know," Poepoe said.  "But I cannea promise that yea'll get yer friend back, just that yea'll find him."

*          *          *

"I say we go right back down," Han said later as he, Luke, Cyan, Cilghal, and Kam discussed the information Poepoe had given to them.  "For all we know, Wurth could be dead already."

"I think we would have felt it if he were dead," Cilghal commented.

Luke sighed, "True, but he had withdrawn from us.  It would explain why we've had such a hard time tracking him down on our own, though."

Kam cleared his throat uncomfortably, "I hate to bring this up, but should we try and free his sister?  It is entirely possible that she and Wurth were causing trouble, knowing Wurth anyway, and she might be incarcerated for good reason."

"We sensed no duplicity from Poepoe," Cyan said, shaking his head.  "I think we should help his sister if we can."

"And we should do it as soon as possible.  I agree with Han.  With this kind of thing, the victim can live for a long time, a Jedi could for even longer if he sufficiently slows his heart rate and keeps from bleeding to death," Cilghal said firmly.

Luke nodded, "Agreed.  Kam, you stay with the ship and keep her out of sight of the planet.  This world doesn't seem to do patrols so you're probably safe so long as you stay hidden behind the moon.  It's close enough that you could move in to assist if it comes to that.  Cilghal, I want you to come with us, Wurth will probably need you.  We should take the Falcon instead of one of the shuttles, they're not likely to recognize her here."

"And you didn't want to haul her along," Han remarked.

Luke ignored him and continued, "Han, you'll be coming of course since we're going to use the Falcon.  Me, Cyan, Cilghal, and that's it—we want this group small enough that we might go unnoticed.  Everyone dress casual, the people here all seem to have a good idea what Jedi garb looks like, and keep your lightsabers concealed until absolutely necessary.  Does that work for everyone?  Good, let's go."

Luke and Cyan quickly made their way to their quarters as the others returned to theirs in order to change.

"Luke, how are we going to disguise me?  There just aren't that many dragons out there and all the people on the planet seem oddly familiar with my species," Cyan pointed out.

"We'll just have to let you out while we're making our decent," Luke told him, entering their room.  "Stay airborne until we need you.  Hello, Mara," Luke added, spotting her in the kitchen area.

"Are you leaving again already?" she demanded.

"Yes, unfortunately," Cyan told her as Luke darted into the bedroom to grab a change of clothes.  "We found out what happened to Wurth and we have to get to him as quickly as possible."

"But you just got here!" she exclaimed.  "Aren't they going to be a little suspicious if you come right back?"

"That's why we're going back in the Falcon.  We're going to get in and out as quickly as possible.  Though…" Luke trailed off, still in the process of pulling on his shirt.

Mara frowned in annoyance.  As she got more accustomed to her surroundings and the people around her, she'd gained a lot of confidence and became much more willing to question others actions.  "'Though' what?"

"The officer we met, he said some interesting things.  And you were right earlier, Cyan, the people do seem oddly familiar with your species, and there's no reason they should be.  K'ti'ma isn't anywhere near the Baf system.  Along with what the officer interrogating us said…" Luke shook his head.

"Yes, 'Force Following slime' does seem to be a bit of a suspicious comment, doesn't it?  And why would the Cragon want to pretend Baf doesn't exist besides its lack of civilization?" Cyan added.  "There's more to this place than meets the eye, Luke."

Luke nodded as he and Cyan headed for the door.  "Indeed, but it is something we'll have to worry about after we find Wurth.  See you soon, Mara.  Barring any complications we should be back within a few hours."

"There's always complications," Cyan pointed out.  Turning to Mara he grinned confidently, "Don't wait up, we'll limp back sometime tomorrow I'm sure."

"Sure," Mara said, but the door was already closed and besides the astromech droid, she was alone once again.  "Damn it, Artoo, when is that man going to talk to me?"  The droid made a pessimistic sounding toot and then bleeped out something too complicated for Mara to make sense of.  She checked the readout on the small intercom screen.  "You know what?  You're exactly right.  We should do it.  C'mon, they'll be gone soon."

On their way to the Falcon Luke and Cyan met up with Han.  They walked in a silence tense with the anticipation of a coming fight.  Just before they reached the hanger, Han put a hand on Luke's shoulder to stop him.  "Kid, I hope the significance of what's happened to Wurth hasn't been lost on you.  I realize you might not have shared the vision you had on the hospital with the others—"

"There are only two parts of that vision that haven't come true yet," Luke said quietly.  "The part where Mara is attacked and I'm…I don't know, sick I guess.  And the other where I got this."  Luke held up his left hand, displaying the scare left from the cauterized wound.  "The more I've tried to analyze that vision, the more I've realized that I didn't really see how this is done to me.  I'm willing to lay odds that this is it."

"You were wondering what kind of people were still crucifying others these days," Cyan commented wryly.  "I think you just got your answer."

Han sighed in frustration, "Then maybe you shouldn't go down, kid.  I mean, you usually get these visions to avoid them, right?"

"Not necessarily.  My vision of Mara on Nauauran came true, it's just that I misinterpreted it.  Visions simply help to put one on the right path.  They usually come true, especially if they are as clear as the ones we've been having.  Besides, there's too many unanswered questions concerning this planet," Luke added.

"We have to see where this leads and trust in the Force," Cyan said.

Han snorted, "Fine, but I'm pretty sure repeatedly having your hands and ankles impaled will give you arthritis some day."

"I'm sure," Cyan agreed, sharing an amused grin with his padmiri.

Entering the hanger they swiftly prepped the Falcon.  They would approach from the dark side of Baf so that they could release Cyan into the air and it would be harder to see from the ground.  By the time the Falcon reached Baf it would be night in the capitol city, so it would be easier to sneak around unseen.  They disembarked from Bairn of Hope, took a short hyperspace jump out of the system and then jumped back in so it would appear as if they had just arrived.  When the spaceport authority hailed them, Cilghal answered and they were given clearance to land.  Cyan waited in the Falcon's cargo bay until they had dropped down far enough into the planet's atmosphere that he could fly and breath.  Han flicked on the intercom, his hand ready over the hatch release.

"You all set back there?" Han asked.

"Any time," Cyan responded readily.

"Here we go again," Luke commented.

Chapter VIII

The crisp night air cut into Cyan's lungs and bit into his wings, his blood surging to counteract it as he soared through the sky.  He glided effortlessly on the higher air currents, passing silently over the dilapidated houses below.

Equally silent was the small group of Jedi passing between those houses.  They followed Poepoe through dark allies and filth-ridden streets.  Compared to the despondent multitude seen during the day, the streets now were eerily empty and silent.  Every so often the hushed darkness was punctuated by a muffled crash coming from a nearby home, or the grunts and thuds of a mugging.  Wishing they had the time to stop some of the horrible crimes going on all around them, Luke pushed the others onward as fast as they could go.  They could not save an entire world from a fate it chose for itself.

"Should we split up?" Cilghal asked softly as they neared the edge of town.

Luke shook his head, "No, we don't know what we'll face up ahead.  Wurth will probably need you, Han will be the one to get you guys off this planet, Cyan will be the one to get you and Wurth back to the ship…and I just need to see this."

"So, if you're the unnecessary one, shouldn't you go back?" Han asked, still unhappy about Luke's insistence on coming.  "Can't Cyan have a look at this for you?"

"Han…"

"I know, I know," Han growled, pressing past his brother-in-law as Poepoe waved them hastily forward.  After a few more minutes of travel they reached the end of the dilapidated houses and stepped onto the killing fields.

"Nameless Void…" Cilghal whispered in awestruck horror.  "There's so many of them!  And what their nailed to…I've never heard of it being done that way before.  Most…most I think…they feel like they've been dead for…"

"Sometimes they be leavin' them up thar fer months.  This one guy who really pissed off the president, he got te stay up 'til all 'is flesh rotted off an' the bones fell down," Poepoe said almost matter of factually.

"That's terrible!"

Poepoe shrugged, unmoved by Cilghal's obvious distress, "With what they be nailed te, that be the Cragon's fault anyway.  They been doin' it that way fer as long as mea can be rememberin'.  Some o' them musta been deservin' it."

"Maybe," Luke murmured, creeping among the hanging, putrid bodies, "but our friend most certainly was not one of them.  As for the method…I don't think I understand the Cragon well enough to understand this, though it does beg certain psychological and social questions of all involved—the Cragon for starting and the Baf's for continuing this.  C'mon, if Wurth's still alive then his life-force may be too weak to sense so everyone keep their eyes peeled."

 They fanned out into the morbid forest of crucified bodies, their eyes turned unwillingly upward at the grotesque display.  Thus it was some time before Cilghal realized what was seeping into her boots.  Her sense of smell—more attuned and sensitive than her human companions—had already picked up on the stench of iron in the air.  She assumed it was blood from the bodies, but upon stumbling over a root and almost slipping in the slime under her feet, she looked down and saw the thick red liquid oozing from the ground.  She clapped a webbed hand over her mouth and chocked down a scream, not wanting to draw attention.  Though her profession and skill had accustomed her to the sight of blood, the thought of the entire area being seeped with it made her nauseous.  Almost slipping again in her hast, she jogged to the edge of the copse of corpses and sucked air into her lungs, trying to get rid of the sent and clear her head, but to little avail. 

She glanced at the empty expanse spread out before her, trying to take her mind off the rotting bodies.  The landscape sloped away from her, carpeted in yellowish grass and dark reddish clay.  At the epicentre of the terrain was a very old impact crater where nothing grew.  She gazed intently at the crater, thinking there was something odd about it.  The more she looked, the more drawn to it she felt.  It was as if everything in the valley was slowly sliding into the void; Cilghal could almost hear the sound of the air as it was sucked into the darkness, drawing her with it.

With a rough shake of her head Cilghal broke the spell and the feeling dissipated.  She needed to concentrate—wasted seconds could mean the end of Wurth's life.  Turning back to the crucified bodies, Cilghal caught her breath.  Fumbling for her comlink, she said into it softly, "I've found him, I'm on the front edge, come quickly."

The others arrived one by one with Han appearing last.  Luke looked up at Wurth's body and sucked air through his teeth.  He was nailed up just like the others, but his eyes were wide open and there were numerous wounds all over his body, some still seeping vital fluids.  "What's the best way to remove the nails, Cilghal."

"Just do it quickly…we need to get him down as fast as possible but he cannot be jarred too much," Cilghal said, her bulbous eyes wide with emotion.

"Right," Luke murmured.  A quick tug with the Force and the nails pulled free and Luke slowly lowered Wurth's stiffening body to the damp earth.  Cilghal knelt next to him and placed her palm on his forehead, then drew her webbed hand down his face, closing his eyes and then over his body.  Luke watched her face closely for any clue that would show the severity of Wurth's injuries.  Even Han could tell how grim Wurth's chances were.

Suddenly Wurth's eyes snapped open again and he screamed, his back arching off the sodden ground, his emaciated hands clawing up from the ground and curling as if he wished to claw out his eyes.  Cilghal returned her palm to Wurth's forehead and whispered something unintelligible under her breath.  Gradually Wurth's screams died off, but his eyes and mouth remained open and he seemed unaware of the other's presence.

"Cyan, land please," Luke murmured to his friend through the Force.  Then he turned to Cilghal, "Cyan will take you and Wurth back to the ship.  Han and I will go with Poepoe to free his sister.  If we're not back in an hour, or Wurth worsens and you need to get him back to the ship right away, take off without us."

"Alright," Cilghal agreed as Cyan landed stealthily beside them. 

They strapped Wurth to a small combat stretcher and hocked it to the harness holding Cyan's saddle on.  Cilghal slipped onto Cyan's back the dragon lifted into the air with a quick, unreadable expression thrown at his padmiri.  Luke smiled humourlessly.  It won't happen that way.

"C'mon, kid," Han said, hedging back towards the city.  "Let's get Poepoe's sister out and then get out of here.  This place gives me the heebie-jeebies."

"Yeah," Luke said in complete agreement, thinking the crater was the most familiar feeling part of the planet he had seen so far.

"So, what are the other two yea brought be doin' 'ere?" Poepoe ask as they passed as quickly as they could through the copse of corpses.

Luke and Han traded confused glances.  "What 'other two'?" Han asked.

"Jus' before yea'll reached the ship a pretty lady with funny hair an' a droid came on board an' went te the cargo hold te check up on somethin'.  I didnea see them get off so I figured they came wi' us."

"Son of a sith…" Luke muttered under his breath.  A quick check with Cyan revealed that the dragon had not reached the ship yet, nor had he seen anyone following them.  But the streets were dark and it would not be too difficult for someone with Mara's innate skills to stay out of sight.

"What should we do?" Han asked, glancing nervously at the prison they were about to break into.  "Should we hold off and find Mara or go ahead and hope she finds us?"

Luke's brow furrowed in indecision, "Wait, Poepoe, do you know what kind of droid came with the lady?"

"We donnea be havin' many droids 'ere.  It was short, an' it had a round top," Poepoe said.

"Artoo," Han confirmed, unsurprised.  "He'll keep her out of trouble."

"Or get her into more.  Damn it!  Why did she come down here anyway?" Luke growled, running his hand through his greying hair in agitation.

Han shook his head, "I don't know, but we're not going to find her if she doesn't want to be found.  Mara—even the Mara who doesn't remember anything about her past—is not so reckless or stupid as to come to a strange planet just for the fun of it.  She had a purpose and we'll find out soon enough.  Besides, kid, maybe this is a good sign.  She's obviously feeling more confident in her abilities."

"It's not a good thing if she gets hurt," Luke muttered.  He reached out with the Force and did a quick survey of their immediate surroundings but found no trace of Mara or Artoo.  "We'll just have to pull this prison break as quietly as possible and then hope they meet up with us on the way out.  Cyan'll be on his way back from the Falcon by then anyway, he can look for her."

"Exactly.  If Mara can survive while badly injured in the jungles of Delquii Prime, she can survive Baf," Han said confidently.  Luke and Poepoe both threw him a dirty look and then headed for the prison.

They approached cautiously, crouching in the dark shadows of an adjacent building.  There did not seem to be much in the way of security on the outside, but that did not mean there wasn't any.  Still, for people with Luke and Han's experience, getting in and out with one prisoner should not be a problem.

"Poepoe, you wait here.  If a big commotion breaks out or we don't show up in an hour without contacting you on the comlink, take off—someone from the ship will contact you later if we don't," Luke said as he and Han prepared to make their move.  Poepoe nodded and sank back into the relative safety of the ally as Luke and Han moved cautiously into the street that separated them from the compound.

Walking as casually as they could, they sidled up to the prison and edged near the door.  Luke approached first, listening with Jedi enhanced senses for someone waiting on the inside and reaching out with the Force to see if he could feel any presences nearby.

"Nothing," he whispered to Han.

"I'm not sure if that makes me more or less worried," Han muttered.  "Shouldn't there be at least a token guard around or something?"

"Or something," Luke murmured in return, gingerly testing the door.  "At least it's locked, that would have been too suspicious."

Han shock his head, glancing over his shoulder uneasily.  "I still don't like this kid, it's too easy."

"I'm sure you're right.  There are far too many things about this world that need more explaining," Luke whispered back.  "But it's too late to stop now.  Besides, we promised Poepoe we'd try.  He delivered on his side of the bargain so we can't go back now.  Do you think you can unlock this or should I do it the old fashioned way?"

"I got it," Han muttered, still not satisfied but agreeing with Luke's assessment of the situation.  Kneeling so that the lock was at eye level Han pulled a vibro-knife from his pocket and carefully popped the cover.  "Jeez, why'd they even bother…" he muttered, disconnecting two wires and splicing them together.  The door opened with a gentle click and Han drew his blaster and darted to the side, allowing Luke to enter first with his lightsaber drawn and ready to deflect any bolts that might be heading their way.

"No one seems to have noticed us so far," Luke murmured.

"Yeah," Han muttered, "well, let's hope it stays that way long enough for us to get Poepoe's sister outta here without raising a ruckus.  The sooner we get you off the planet the better I'll feel."

"Don't worry about me.  Whatever happens tonight doesn't matter—I know I'll survive it," Luke responded calmly.

Han snorted as they reached the end of the corridor, "Yeah, but it what condition?"

Luke didn't respond, instead he motioned for Han to be silent as he carefully edged around the corner and caught his breath.  The entryway opened into a wide room largely dominated by a single cell.  Within it almost two-dozen bodies languished in troubled sleep.

Han slipped to the other side of the doorway and had to restrain a groan of dismay when he caught sight of the cell.  "Maybe we should have brought Poepoe with us after all.  How are we going to figure out which is the girl we're looking for?"

"Poepoe gave us a pretty detailed description.  Besides that, I guess we'll just have to go in and ask around," Luke said simply.

"So, the fact that there isn't even a guard in here doesn't bother you?" Han demanded.

Luke glared at Han before responding harshly, "There is absolutely nothing about this situation that doesn't bother me."

They tip toed into the room and Luke checked the walls for cameras while Han picked the lock to the cell.  The cell door opened with a minimum of effort and the two insurgents slipped inside after trading uneasy shrugs.  They walked quietly among the sleeping bodies, looking for anyone matching Tymi's description.  Han reached the right-hand back corner and found a slender woman with curly red hair matted with dirt and blood.  Her face was so bruised that he doubted even her brother would recognize her.  Still, he couldn't be sure it was the girl they were looking for without waking her up.  Han reached out to grasp her shoulder when he caught sight of something in her hand, partially hidden under her baggy shirt.  He motion for Luke to come over and pointed to the object.

"That's Wurth's lightsaber alright," Luke whispered.  "He must have given it to her before they strung him up."

"Probably explains why she's gotten a little more floor space than the rest of this motley crowd.

Luke placed a hand lightly over her mouth and whispered a little more loudly, "Tymi, Tymi wake up."  The girl jumped as soon as she felt his hand over her mouth and then immediately moved to bring the lightsaber to bear.  Luke grabbed it from her easily enough and then withdrew his hand from her mouth and brought one of his fingers to his.  "Shh, it's ok.  We're here to get you out.  We're friends of Wurth and your brothers waiting for you outside."

Tymi sat up and looked down at the lightsaber hanging from Luke's belt and then back up into his face.  She smiled grimly through her facial contusions and said very softly, "It be 'bout time.  He said yea'd be 'ere a week ago."

They helped her to her feet and then slipped quietly from the cell, leaving the door open for anyone else who wanted to take their chances.  They arrived at the back exit and Han reached for the door release.

"Wait!" Luke whispered harshly.

"What?" Han demanded, snatching his hand back.

Luke took a deep breath.  "I'm not sure, but I just felt something through the Force.  There's someone out there waiting for us and it's not Poepoe."

"Great.  What'll we do now?" Han demanded.

"We could be tryin' te go out th' front way," Tymi suggested timidly.

Luke shook his head.  "No, that's certainly being watched.  There's no basement in this building, is there?"

Tymi gave Luke a bland glare that suggested he should know better.  "That would be implyin' this place 'as plumin'."

"Touché," Han agreed, flashing Luke a grin.  "Well, I guess we don't have much of a choice unless you want to try crawling out the windows.  Just get your lightsaber out and hope they're not too spread apart."

Luke sighed in resignation, "Great.  Why is it that whenever you and I try and sneak in somewhere the elaborate plans always wind up being 'get your lightsaber out and hope they're not too spread apart'?"

"I can't help the way the universe works," Han retorted, moving behind Luke and pulling Tymi behind him.

"Get ready," Luke barked, drawing his lightsaber with a snap-hiss and kicking the door release with his foot.  He heard a sound that he knew he had heard before but that was distinctly different from a blaster going off.  The sound it made when it hit his lightsaber blade was more like metal burning up in an instant rather than a deflection.  While a blaster bolt may kickback the lightsaber blade if it was powerful enough, whatever it was that was being shot at them was definitely much more solid.

"Holy Hutt spit!  Kid those are projectile weapons!  If we get hit with one of those it could blow something important right off, if you don't bleed to death first!" Han exclaimed, moving closer behind him.

"We need cover and quick!" Luke replied.  "I think there's only one person firing right now but that could change any minute!"

Han glanced to their right and groaned as Luke inched them towards the nearest alley.  "You had to say that out loud, didn't you!"

Luke swore under his breath as he glanced quickly to the place on a nearby rooftop that Han was pointing to just in time to see another shooter raising to fire.  Suddenly Tymi shrieked from behind them and Han turned around to see her eyes on the roof above the prison.

"Oh shi—"

Chapter IX

The sniper to their right choked his final breath and slumped off the roof to land in a tangled heap on the ground.  It was just enough of a shock to break Luke's concentration and a bullet slipped past his defences and into his shoulder.  He gasped in pain, trying desperately to get his lightsaber back in line when the first sniper clutched his chest and fell over backwards out of sight.  Luke turned to their left at the sound of feet landing lightly on the ground next to him and couldn't help but bark a laugh through his grimace of pain.

"I should have known your impeccable timing was genetic as well," he gasped as Mara ran quickly to his side.

"Are you all right?" she asked, her face pale in the Baf moonlight.

"I'll be ok," Luke told her, pressing his hand into the wound to try and stem the flood.  "Right now we need to get out of the open."

Mara nodded, though her face remained pale with worry.  "Right.  I found that boy you brought with you; Artoo's waiting with him where you left him."  Luke nodded as they started running to the hiding place.

Luke?! Cyan called out through the Force.  Are you all right?  You're hurt!

I'll be ok.  We found Mara.  How far away are you?  Luke replied.

There was a contrite second before Cyan responded, We had to take off.  Wurth was worsening and the shipyard security was starting to get too close for comfort.  But we can turn around and come back for you right now.  They don't seem to have scrambled any air defence though the port authority is saying some rather naughty things over the comm.

No, don't worry about it.  We'll go to ground here until things calm down, Luke told him, fighting off a sudden dizzy spill.  Han caught his elbow and slung Luke's arm over his shoulders.

I don't like you on that world, Cyan said, sounding like he might turn the Falcon around on his own.

I don't like this world, Luke commented dryly, trying to keep the pain of his wound from leaking over into his dragon too much.  But there's answers here, Cyan, answers we need.  "The Falcon had to lift off, they were being attacked.  We've got to find some place to hide until all the commotion stops."

"You cannea hide 'ere," Tymi said, holding tightly to her brother's hand.  "They be hatin' Jedi 'ere.  They'll be searchin' hard fer yea.  We'll hafta be leavin' the main city."

"We could be goin' te the Forest o' Fates," Poepoe suggested.

"The Forest o' Fates?" Han repeated.  "I didn't think anyone actually gave places stupid names like that in the real univers."

"I'd elbow you if I could support myself," Luke growled, leaning heavily on Han now.

"We'd be safe thar.  No body be likin' to go in thar anyways," Tymi said.

Mara frowned.  "Any particular reason why?"

Tymi shrugged.  "Ifen yea hate it, yea be hatin' it wi' all year heart.  Ifen yea be likin' it, yea like it jus' as much.  An' it'll feel the same 'bout yea.  It be big an' it be heavily wooded.  Easy te get lost an' harder te get found."

"Sounds good to me," Luke proclaimed, gesturing weakly for Tymi and Poepoe to lead the way.

*          *          *

"I don't know what to make of it either," Kawlri told Corran the day after the canine attack.  Though he had sat with Ben for a long time and tried to understand why he wasn't able to use the Force during the attack, he still couldn't figure out why.  Finally he brought Ben in to see Kawlri in the hopes that her medical expertise might be able to spot something that the otherwise very self-aware boy hadn't noticed.

"So you can't think of anything?" Corran asked, hugging his arms around his chest.  "You don't even have a vague theory?"

Kawlri sighed and he could hear her sitting down and picking up a data card.  "There is nothing medically wrong with him.  If I had to make a guess I would say it was something psychological."

"Psychological?" Corran repeated slowly.  "That doesn't make sense.  Ben's one of the most level-headed kid's I've ever met."

"What's that got to do with anything?  Ben's got a lot of things to deal with right now.  His emergence into the Force has been much earlier and more pronounced than even the Solo kids.  His father's on the other side of the galaxy on dangerous missions—which Ben has had enough experience to be able to identify just how dangerous they are.  His mother doesn't even remember him let alone come to visit.  Corran, he may be level-headed, but anyone would have issues with that," Kawlri explained calmly.  "I'd be more worried if he didn't."

Corran nodded, "I see you point.  Perhaps I should get him some counselling until Luke gets back."

"If that'll work," Kawlri pointed out.  "Ben's always been quite guarded around people he doesn't know.  He's almost as bad as his mother.  He might be better off talking this through with you.  Don't be discouraged if it takes some time to solve.  He's young—he might not even be sure how to express his feelings."

Corran nodded again and thanked Kawlri for her time as she led him into the waiting room to pick up Ben and Wisp.  Kawlri was right, whatever had caused this was in Ben's mind and they had better fix it or next time Olive might not be around to help him.

"All right, kids, we're heading back," Corran proclaimed.

"Yipee!" Wisp shouted, leaping from her chair and taking Corran's hand from Kawlri.  "What are we gonna do today?"

Corran paused to think.  "I don't know.  Ben, is there anything you'd like to do today?"

"I want to go home," Ben said quietly, taking Corran's other hand.  "Sorcha and Shane are wondering where I am."

"They're still in their levitation class, aren't they?" Corran asked as they left the small medical wing.

There was a pause before Ben answered as if he had just made one of his small smiles, "Prish put a hole in a water pipe and she and Seaquay got in a big argument about it so Ganner sent everyone home early to calm down.  I don't think he likes teaching kids."

"Hmm…no, I don't think he does.  I think he's a little scared of them," Corran agreed, unsurprised as usual by Ben's knowledge of the events going on around them.  Not everything had stopped working with him at least.

Wisp giggled, "Ganner's funny.  He says all these funny things about how tough and cool Jedi are supposed to be but he can't handle a bunch of little kids."

"Are you kidding?  You little rascals are impossible to handle sometimes!  You're quick and you travel in packs," Corran commented ominously.

Ben and Wisp both giggled at that as they travelled the rest of the way to their rooms.  They arrived and sure enough there was Shane and Sorcha sitting on the couch ready with a much more detailed account of the spat that occurred in their class that day.

"They fight like a mommy an' daddy!" Sorcha finished, almost overcome with giggles.

"Even Ganner thinks so!" Shane added.  "He said, he said they was a real couple!"

Suddenly Sorcha gasped in shock.  "Oh, my gosh!  Shane, we forgot!"

"We did forgot!" Shane exclaimed, leaping from his couch and embracing his older brother.  "Hugs for Ben Day!"

"Hugs for Ben Day!" Sorcha echoed, leaping bodily into the embrace.

Things went like that for the next hour or so until Harsa came to pick up Wisp and Valin returned home from his classes.  The three Skywalker kids went to Ben's room to play while Corran sat with Valin at the kitchen table and helped him with his engineering class.  Much to Corran's delight Valin had taken a distinct interest in ships and flying, an interest both parents were happy to encourage.  Neither had any intention of forcing Valin onto the path of a Jedi, only in encouraging him to develop that skill along with any other interests he might have.

It was almost suppertime by the time they finished and once the father and son put dinner on the sonic burner Corran went to Ben's room to tell them to wash their hands.  Just before he reached the door he heard them talking.

"What it feel like?" Shane asked quietly.

"Very scary," Ben replied.  "More scared than I ever been."

Sorcha replied, "It's ok bein' scared.  Da always said it ok to be scared."

"I know.  But then I couldn't use the Force an' I got more scared," Ben told them.  "It was weird, like the part of me that tells me where the Force is was shut off."

"Not so bad," Sorcha said dismissively.

"Fear from Dark Side.  You mighta used it, that's bad," Shane agreed.

"Better the Dark Side than me an' Corran an' Wisp all dyin'," Ben said a little sullenly.  "I think I mighta been able to use the Force without usin' the Dark Side, I was jus' a little scare at first.  But then I couldn't use the Force at all an' I got more scared.  Too scared to even warn anybody."

"How come?" Sorcha demanded.

"Yeah, did you feel other stuff when you couldn't feel the Force?" Shane added.

There was a long pause before Ben answer, "It felt like da."

*          *          *

"He said it felt like Luke?" Cyan repeated when Corran contacted Bairn later that night after the children had gone to sleep.

"Yeah, he was kind of vague about it.  He just said that when he couldn't use the force it felt like his father," Corran elaborated.  "That's why I contacted you.  I wanted to know if Luke would know why he would say something like that."

Cyan cleared his throat uncomfortably.  "Well, you're going to have to settle for the second best thing for now.  Luke's hiding out on Baf until we can get him off planet."

"What happened?" Corran asked.  "Did you find Wurth?"

There was another pronounced pause before Cyan replied, "Yes, but he's not expected to live.  He's only regained consciousness a few times but he doesn't seem to be aware of anyone around him."

"What do you mean?"

"He just lies there with his eyes open repeating, 'in the end and the beginning the stars are washed in blood'.  None of us knows what it means and frankly I could probably die happy without ever knowing," Cyan commented.

"That's terrible!  Who could have done this to him?  I admit he's a brash son of a sith but he's definitely a formidable fighter when he wants to be," Corran said.

Cyan snorted, "He was also reckless and spectacularly unobservant.  He may have just been taken by surprise.  If they know how to keep a Jedi contained long enough to do what they did with him, then they probably know a few tricks for catching them."

"Well, maybe he'll pull through," Corran suggested.

Cyan didn't sound very positive.  "Cilghal doesn't think so.  He lost a lot of blood and didn't receive any nourishment for a long time.  His body had almost completely shut down by the time we got to him.  He's been in a bacta tub for hours and we've seen no improvement."

"Geez," Corran said softly.  "I don't know what to say.  I mean, I never got along with Wurth that well, but I certainly never whished anything like this on him.  I wish I could do something to help."

"I wish anyone could do something to help.  All I want you to do is keep taking care of the kids," Cyan said firmly.

Corran smiled.  "Can do.  So, you don't have any ideas about what happen to Ben, do you?"

"I don't know.  Unless…" Cyan trailed off.

"Unless what?"

"Unless…when Luke was dropped of on K'ti'ma, before he went he implanted some suggestions in Ben's mind to protect him in case the Cragon tried to miss-train him," Cyan said.

"Yeah, I remember him telling me about that," Corran said, nodding.  "But he removed those when Ben came back, didn't he?"

Cyan sighed, "Well, he thought he did, but maybe he didn't do a good enough job removing them or he did too good a job putting them in.  Keep in mind the condition he was kept in while on the Threnody."

"Yeah.  Damn it, if that's true then I'm not sure how to fix it at all.  Or even how to bring it up.  How do you tell a kid his father's the reason he can't protect himself?" Corran asked.

"I'm not sure.  But Ben's smart, Corran, and I'm sure you'll be able to explain it to him.  This is your specialty, after all," Cyan pointed out.

Corran replied, "I guess.  Well, thanks for your help and make sure Luke doesn't get himself killed or something."

There was another pause before Cyan responded, "I'll give it a go, but it may have been taken out of my talons."

Chapter X

"Your time will come!"

Leia awoke with a gasp, clutching her blanket to her breast.  She lay for a moment, breathing heavily and trying to figure out who had spoken.  It felt like it was a dream, and yet was more than a dream.  She was sure the voice came from inside her, but the malice behind it came from some place else, yet close enough to her that she could feel its heat.  After lying still for some time she eventually realized the answer wasn't going to just come to her so she sat up and glanced at her alarm.  It would soon be time for her to get up anyway; she might as well take a shower to clear her head.

Once in the shower she began to feel a strange sense of déjà vu.  Not in the sense that she showered around the same time every morning; it felt more like something she had experienced some place else, some place unrelated to where she was now except for one thing.  Suddenly the temperature of the water began to drop and Leia cursed to herself.  The heat regulators in her room were malfunctioning of late and they were supposedly fixed the day before.  As the temperature dropped, the feeling of déjà vu increased.  Her chest began to constrict and her breath started to come in quick, short gasps.  She slapped the switch to turn off the water and stumbled out of the shower and grasped the edge of the sink, getting her breath back.

She left the bathroom once she'd recovered and sat on her bed for a moment before slowly dressing.  She reached for a shirt and gasped, pain suddenly stabbing into her side.  Yet by the time she'd pressed her hand against the ache, it had gone away.  Underneath her hand was the scare she'd gotten while chasing Luke up the mountain on Constan Prime.  As she pondered why that old wound would suddenly start to act up, a crash from the kitchen frightened her so badly she fell off the bed.  It was a wet crash and as she hit the floor she felt as though someone had just thrown cold water in her eyes and down her throat.  When she finally blinked back to awareness she found Threepio hovering over her.

"Mistress Leia, are you all right?" Threepio asked, his arms waving in compensation, she was sure, for his inability to wring them.

"I-I'm fine, Threepio.  Something just startled me," Leia assured him as the droid helped her to sit on the bed.  "What was that crash?"

Threepio replied as he handed her shirt to her, "I apologize, Mistress Leia, I noticed the flowers in the vase you purchased on Constan Prime were wilting and as I watered them I knocked the vase over.  I do hope it wasn't expensive."

"No, it's ok, Threepio, don't worry about it.  I'll get another," Leia reassured him, taking her shirt weakly in her hand.  "I never really liked that vase anyway."

She dressed slowly as Threepio continued to make her breakfast and tidy the house.  Even after she left home and walked to her office she felt a strange sense of unease following her.  She was reviewing some reports when she knocked her glass of water off of her desk and it shattered against the floor.  It flowed upon the hardwood finish until it came to the elaborately designed carpet lying in the middle of the room.  Some of the water continued to flow while some seeped into the carpet, causing some of the red dye to wash out.  She watched the red dye trickle across the floor until it reached the cabinet that contained all of the data files on the worlds she had visited over the years.  When she looked up at it her eyes were drawn to the file for Constan Prime.

"President?"

"Hm?" Leia mumbled, looking up guiltily from the water to the doorway where Winter stood patiently.

"It is time for the council meeting," Winter told her calmly.  If she was wondering why Leia was looking so intently at the water she did not, as usual, betray any of the curiosity on her face.  "You said you wanted to be there early so you'll have to leave now if you wish to do so."

Leia smiled thankfully and began to collect her things, whishing she didn't feel so awkward doing so.  "Thank you, Winter.  I don't suppose you could get someone to clean this up for me?  And the carpet might have to be looked at, the dye is running."

"Of course.  I do not believe the carpet can be made water proof without harming it, it is the hand-made one you purchased on Tatooine and brought here, remember?" Winter said as she handed Leia a data card she had forgotten.

Leia stared at Winter for a second before she managed to answer, "Yes, well, don't worry about it too much then."

Winter's brow creased slightly at Leia's reaction.  "Is there something wrong, Leia?" Winter asked, dropping the formal title in her concern.  "You've distracted since you came in this morning."

"I should have known I couldn't keep anything from you," Leia commented with a small smile.  "I've just been feeling off all day.  I'm probably coming down with something, but I'm not sure.  I don't think it's anything for you to worry about, though, I'm sure it will go away on its own soon enough."

"If you're sure, Leia.  But if you aren't feeling well then maybe you should go home for the day.  I'm sure it won't hurt the council if you miss one day," Winter suggested.

"No," Leia responded firmly.  "No, that isn't an option.  I don't dare give Blacksky a whole day with which to influence the council unchecked.  I've stopped her efforts so far, but if she grows any stronger I may need to contact Luke for some help."

"Oh, that reminds me," Winter added as she and Leia headed for the door.  "There was a message sent to you from Cyan.  It was recorded and not flagged as urgent so I thought I would just leave it for you to look at after the meeting."

Leia nodded as Threepio minced over to the pair of humans and they walked to the council chambers.  "Yes, Cyan would not hesitate to do whatever he had to do to get my attention if he wanted to.  It can wait, I've enough on my mind right now."

Cyan paused at the door to the medical facility, frowning at Cilghal.  "Why isn't he in the bacta tank?"

"He wants to speak to Luke," Cilghal explained in exasperation.  "Every time we try to put him back in he tries to struggle which is worsening his condition."

"Can't you just put him under?" Cyan demanded.

"I don't think he'd ever wake up," Cilghal said softly.

Cyan sighed and then asked more calmly, "Does he know that Luke's not here and probably won't be back for a while?"

"I've tried to explain that but he's either not hearing me or refusing to understand," Cilghal told him, leading the dragon towards Wurth's hospital bed.  "I thought that if perhaps he talked to you instead he would let us put him back in the bacta tank, except…"

"Except at this point it probably isn't worth putting him back in," Cyan murmured.  He nodded to Cilghal, "I'll talk to him."  Cilghal nodded back and motioned for the Chisgon assisting her to leave as well.  Cyan approached the bed by himself, his crest lowering at the sight of Wurth's wasted body.  His skin was almost translucent and his eyes were sunken into the sockets.  His nails were long and yellow and his gums were blackened.  His lips, blue and cracked, moved soundlessly as his emaciated hands plucked feebly at the blanket covering him.  "Wurth?"

Wurth turned his head towards Cyan and frown, his eyes not focusing.  "Master Skywalker?" he asked, his voice coming out raspy and weak.

"Luke is stuck on the surface, Wurth.  It's Cyan, though, so I'm just as good.  Tell me what you want Luke to hear and he'll know," Cyan said softly.

"Cyan?  Cyan?" Wurth paused, frowning harder as if coming to a difficult decision without knowing all of the facts.  His eyes still did not focus and Cyan realized that he could no longer see.  "Yes, Cyan, yes, I can tell you.  I have to…I have to…to tell you what I saw."

Wurth stopped and gasped for air as if that long of a sentence had taken everything out of him.  "What did you see?" Cyan gently prompted.

"I saw the beginning!" Wurth whispered, his vague gaze almost feverish in its intensity.  "I saw…I saw the last beginning.  And…and I saw…I saw it end…"

"How did it end?" Cyan asked though he feared the answer.

Wurth's gaze became furious and his gaunt hand grasped the air until it came in contact with the end of Cyan's right horn.  He gripped it so tight that blood began to seep between his fingers.  "In the end and in the beginning the stars are washed in blood!"

"Wurth, stop it!" Cyan snarled, trying to pull his horn from Wurth's grasp but the dying human held on with surprising strength.

"In the end the Lightened Dark and the Darkened Light will come, will strike, will fall, will stand, will join, will separate, will live, will meet their justice!  In the end the souls and stars will come, will strike, will fall, will stand, will join, will separate, will live, will meet their justice!  Revolt from the Dark, revolt from the end!"  Cilghal saw what was happening and ran over.

"I'll hurt him if I grip too hard!" Cyan growled, releasing Wurth's wrist and allowing Cilghal to attempt to break his grip.

"The flow of blood will continue it!" Wurth shouted, using his surprisingly strong grip on Cyan's horn to lever his body from the bed.  "Only by stopping the flow can we stop the circle!  But blood flows eternal in the city of damnation!"  Suddenly Wurth released Cyan's horn and stumbled back against the bed, his eyes rolling as he fell to his knees.  His shoulders slumped and his head rolled forward—for a time he sat with his hand bleeding on his lap as he gasped air into his ruined lungs.  There was an ominous niggling in the Force, indefinable but enough to make Cilghal and Cyan take a step back.  The Chisgon assistant moved forward to help Wurth but Cilghal pulled her back.  A gurgle started in Wurth's throat and his shoulders began to shake gently.  The gurgle rose in volume, almost strangling him.  He threw his head back and Cyan realized that he was laughing.  The niggling in the Force was stronger now, definable.  A darkness spilled off of Wurth, slinking along the floor towards them to grasp their ankles with its cold fingers.  He stopped laughing and look and Cyan, a ghastly smile splitting his face.

A low warning growl started in Cyan's throat, "Who are you?"

"I?  How do you not recognize me?  I am all, I am nothing but all.  I am the flow and the pivot." Wurth said as he began to crawl forward.  It was not the crawl of a dying man, rather it was the crawl of a predator stalking its pray.  "How can you not know me?  I am that which you take, Blue, I am that which your precious padmiri fears.  I am that which resides at the heart of the Children of the Sun.  The hubris of the Sun's birth spawned me and this wretched, glorious cycle."

"How self-aggrandizing," Cyan purred.   "It thinks it's the Dark Side."

Wurth crouched on the balls of his feet and snorted derisively, "I am not your arbitrary concept.  I am personification; I fed off of the soul of Palpatine and Exar Kun.  I nibble at all the descendants of Jedis.  I am nothing but all, and I will claim myself."

"You most certainly are not," Cyan snarled.  "You did not take Luke's father, or Luke.  You could only take a swipe at them and once they let go of you, you had no purchase with which to hold them.  Wurth was very close to falling willingly into your grasp, but even he slipped from your fingers."

"Cyan, what's happening?" Cilghal demanded.

"I'm not sure," Cyan replied, eying Wurth and tensing in case he decided to do more than talk.  "One thing I am sure of is that Wurth has passed Beyond."

Wurth rose slowly, though his shoulders remained rolled forward and his fingers tangled, lifeless.  "You see the power I have.  I, the pale imitation of True Power, has over the living."

"I see only a pale imitation of a corrupting power animating dead flesh—something I could do if I really wanted to," Cyan replied, waiting, waiting for what would come.  This posturing couldn't be it.  "So far it is useful only for dramatic effect."

The thing that was Wurth snarled, the noise screeching beyond the abilities of the human vocal cords.  He leapt with inhuman strength toward the frozen Chisgon, his fingers splayed.  Cyan pounced from the side, bowling him to the floor.  The dragon struggled to pin Wurth down, searching desperately with the Force for any sign that some part of Wurth remained.  The thing that was Wurth laughed and ripped his hand from Cyan's hesitant grasp, the yellowed nails somehow slipping under Cyan's scales and scratching his flesh.  Squealing from the abnormally strong stab of pain that emitted from the wound Cyan slashed his claws across the thing that was Wurth's neck.  The gurgling laugh bubbled out with the blood, the blackness oozing across the floor plates as the thing that was Wurth fixed Cyan in his dying gaze.  Cyan eased off of the corpse, wondering what those eyes promised.

Chapter XI

Mirax laughed lightly and uncrossed then re-crossed her legs.  She sat in Najmatahl Blacksky's spacious apartment sipping Chasmeer martini.  The walls were elaborately decorated in satins and dark velvets and instead of furniture the room was rung with plush cushions and coffee tables floating two inches off the floor.  The shades alternated from burgundy to dark purple, embroidered with gold.  A recurring image was seen around the room, depicting a sun shinning down on what looked like a smaller sun surrounded by an obeisance group of people.

"I see you admire the décor?" Najmatahl asked when they finished chuckling after his only mildly amusing anecdote.  "You are interested in where it comes from?"

"I've never seen anything like it.  I usually deal in rarities but this is definitely new to me," Mirax conceded, wondering why Najmatahl always had to make statements in the form of a question.

"It is a wonderful story, I think you'll find?" Najmatahl remarked and then lapsed into silence.

Mirax waited for a moment, by now accustomed to his slips.  When it dragged on for unusually long she prompted, "Yes, I would like to hear."

Najmatahl blinked his red eyes in surprise and then smiled.  "Oh, yes.  I was contemplating it?  It is a story of long ago?  Yes, that's how it went.  One was powerful and terrible in that power, the other was powerful and weak in that power.  The first was better?  The second the later.  Yes, that's how it went.  The first created a sun in his power, and the second could only weep?  Those that doubted bowed in reverence?  Yes, that's how it went.  Then those that believed killed the first, and the second could only weep?  Yes, that's how it went.  And then those that believed killed the second, for he could only weep.  Yes, that's how it was."

"My," Mirax murmured, wondering if Najmatahl had a complete grasp of basic or if he was just very dramatic.  "Where did this story come from?"

"Tatooine, I believe?" Najmatahl suggested, lifting his brows.  "It's very moving, yes?"

"Uh, yeah, I'll have to ask around next time I'm with someone from that world.  I never really thought anyone would bother coming up with a story for there being two suns," Mirax responded, nodding slowly.

Najmatahl laughed politely, "Oh, would others know it?  It came from the Sand People, I was told?"

"Goodness," Mirax exclaimed softly, "I feel sorry for whomever it was who got that story out of them."

"I hear the Jawas tell a variant?  I don't know it, though.  It is a beautiful moral?" Najmatahl asked.

"Yes," Mirax replied, slowly, re-crossing her legs again and shifting in her seat.  "It is lovely, but I think I would rather get down to business.  I would like to trade with you, Magistrate—"

"Najmatahl, please?"

"—Najmatahl, but I have heard from some of my associates that you recently ignored several delivery dates and I need to know if I can expect the same treatment," Mirax continued, trying not to become flustered.  What she had was true for the most part, though "associates" could be traded with "guy Talon Karrde picked up on trumped charges in order to get information out of him." 

"I did, didn't I?" Najmatahl mused then continued after a long pause, "Yes, family emergency.  My wife?  She had surgery?"

Mirax raised an eyebrow, struggling to keep her face neutral.  That was probably closer to the truth than his wife would like.  "Really?  That's terrible.  What was wrong?"

"A tumour?  It's gone now?  Very trying," Najmatahl replied, lowering his head solemnly.

"I'm sure it was," Mirax replied respectfully, wishing that she had brought a Jedi with her.  While she considered herself very good at judging body language, Najmatahl was so out of sorts she couldn't tell if he was being serious or if it was an elaborate act to throw her off the trail.  "Will she be all right?"

"She becomes better with each passing day?" Najmatahl told her with what sounded like sincere happiness.  He reached to a low table at his side and picked up a data card.  "As such, my schedule is on time again?  Here is a list of things I am selling that you could be interested in?"

"Yes, thank you, I'll take a look at that.  Do you mind if I speak with some of your associates in the docking ring?  Just to see the loading and unloading procedures you use, of course," Mirax asked smoothly.

Najmatahl smiled and nodded again, "I'd be surprised if you did not?"

"Yes, well, thank you for your time," Mirax said as she rose to her feet, taking the offered data card and shaking Najmatahl's hand.  After she left the apartment Mirax headed straight to the hanger.  While she spoke with Najmatahl's workers, which may or may not prove fruitful for her investigation, there was a slicer on the Pulsar Skate hacking into the stations medical records.  They were orbiting Duro in the second largest space station, Daa'mnvilla.  The halls were bustling with busy Duros going about station business or just passing through.  There was also a healthy mix of merchants and traders, people she might ordinarily do business with.  She looked wistfully on a pair of slender Neeriodiaans holding hands as they haggled with a ship captain.  Shaking her head, Mirax quickened her pace to reach the docks.  The slicer Karrde had provided only needed so much time and they needed to be out of the station's system by then so any illegal activity could not be traced back to them.

She walked into Najmatahl's personal hanger and approached a Duros with captain's tabs on his left shoulder.  "Hello, I'm Geea Vrai.  I was wondering if I could talk to you about your procedures.  I'm looking to trade—"

"I know who you are," the Duros interrupted, suddenly straightening and glancing around.  "Najmatahl informed us that you would be coming by and that we should take you for a tour of the facilities."

"Tell him that is very kind of him.  Will you be my guide?" Mirax asked, slipping her arm through the Duros' elbow.  She couldn't tell if he was nervous or just thrown by her.  She had chosen to wear a skin-tight jump suit with the front snaps undone slightly past the common Duros' conception of proper modesty.  Still, the Duros she was with seemed more frightened than intimidated and that concerned her.

The Duros nodded in response to her question and lead her toward the back wall of the hanger.  "Yes.  My name is Captain Meewlah and I will be you contact if you choose to work with us."

"Excellent," Mirax said, smiling sweetly and watching Meewlah's face closely.  "Now, I'm sure your facilities are state of the art, but my main concern is security.  What people are willing to pay high prices for they are sometimes even more willing to pay slightly less to have stolen.  You understand?"

"Of course," this time the answer came more promptly, as if this were familiar ground.  She excepted it was; Najmatahl traded in rare objects that could only be found on the black market on most worlds.  "If you come this way, I will show you the private receiving hanger, limited to customers of your special status."

They entered a long corridor devoid of decoration—a stark contrast after the opulence of Najmatahl's apartment.  She wondered if that were on purpose but it seemed unlikely.  They walked through another door into a large room and Mirax stopped in her tracks.  Of all the stupid, shaaving amateurish ways to get caught—!

"I'm disappointed?" Najmatahl said sadly from the centre of the room, surrounded by Duros guards pointing blasters at her.  Captain Meewlah quickly disengaged from her arm and retreated through another door.  "My wife fears you, Mirax Terrick-Horn?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Mirax replied, hoping he was only playing a hunch.  "If you really don't want me to see your facilities I can find another buyer."

"You might have done a better job concealing your identity?  I have a picture and talked to people who knew you?  You're too well known to get away with that these days," Najmatahl finished, walking forward with one guard.  "You will come with me?"

"And if I don't want to?"

"You are trying to find out what went on here that you don't know for sure?" Najmatahl asked.  "Have you been successful yet?"

Mirax stayed silent for a time, wondering if they had confiscated her ship yet.  If that slicer could at least get something on him and tell Karrde, this would all be worth it.  They only had to get Blacksky into a scanning facility… "No, I suppose not.  But what makes you think I came alone?  I do have a lot of Jedi friends and they're very good at finding things that others don't want found.  I know that form personal experience."

"I don't think your husband would be too successful?" Najmatahl asked, smiling and blinking his red eyes innocently.

Mirax bit down on a sharp retort but did not bother to hide her anger from her face.  Let him think he had gotten to her.  She wasn't a complete amateur.  "Can we go wherever we're going or are you just going to shoot me?"

Najmatahl smiled again, "So temperamental?  You enjoyed our conversation earlier?  I thought we'd have more?  I don't believe you understood my story."

With that she was led through yet another door to a room decorated in similar fashion to Najmatahl's apartment, except that the sun theme was even more prevalent.  Najmatahl took off his coat to reveal a golden necklace with a sun pendent hanging from it.  He sat on a pile of cushions and indicated that she should do the same.  The guard remained standing with his blaster pointed at her.  "So, what glorious revelation did I miss?"

"You scorn?" this time there was a dangerous edge to Najmatahl's question and Mirax regretted the glib comment.  "You should not?  This has to do with the Jedi?  Do you know what they were called, long, long ago?"  Mirax shook her head.  "Long, long ago, before they were called Jedi, before they were called Force Followers, before they were called anything when the universe was new and the Force sung in the hearts of all?  They were the children of the sun, and danced in its light.  These twins, they were powerful?  One had it right, and the other did not?  One created a sun and the other did not?  One was powerful and one was weak?  Do you understand?"

"Not one bit," Mirax said honestly, wondering where this was leading.

"One embraced the Force, and the other did not?  One led and controlled, and the other did not?  One embodied the Force, and the other did not?  One the Cragon emulate and envy, the other they did not?" Najmatahl shrugged, as if he did not understand their response.  "This is an old story?  Passed down in my family for generations to one child, to keep it secrete?  I only tell you because you will die?  It will serve my wife?  She understands."

"You told her, aren't you taking a bit of a chance there?" Mirax demanded, trying to ignore the blaster hovering in her peripheral vision.

Najmatahl shrugged again, "She is my child?  She has learnt from me?  She is fulfilling the story?"

"Only by stealing what isn't hers," Mirax replied, getting sick of the religious dribble.

Najmatahl looked confused, "You associate with Jedi?  You've heard them say that nothing happens without reason?"

"That's great, that's a really fabulous justification there for ruining my husband's life," Mirax commented sarcastically, hoping desperately that her contingency plan was coming into effect—at this point it did not look like she were going to learn anything new.

"Those with power mush shepherd the weak," Najmatahl replied firmly, no hint of question in his voice.  "And the herd must be culled to preserve the All."  He gestured to the guard who adjusted his aim to Mirax's head and squeezed the trigger—

—When suddenly the blaster went flying from his hand and landed with a deceptively soft thud on the floor in front of Mirax.  She snatched it up and pointed it at Najmatahl as Anakin Solo jumped down from the ceiling air duct and delivered a high kick that dropped the guard to the floor.

Mirax glanced at the settings on the blaster and then smiled sweetly at Najmatahl, "Hmm, already set to kill.  Now who has the power?"

"You only pretend," Najmatahl said calmly.  "My wife is the answer for my line."

"Uh-huh, I'm sure it will sound that way in court when your wife goes on trial for the illegal purchase of my husband's physical property," Mirax snapped.

Anakin drew his lightsaber and touched Mirax's arm urgently, "We gotta get out of here.  There's a lot of guards right outside.  I shouldn't even be in New Republic territory and you don't really have a warrant."

"I will soon enough," Mirax snarled, slowly backing away.

"With what proof?" Najmatahl demanded, "The word of an outcast Jedi?  A smuggler looking for revenge?"

Mirax shrugged, "I was thinking more about the slicer that hacked into the medical records on this station—even if your tumour sap story is proven false it will be enough to get your wife scanned for implants."

There was just enough time for Mirax to see Najmatahl's eyes widen in shock before Anakin gave her a leg up into the air duct and they crawled swiftly towards escape.

And for the first time in a long time, Mirax had hope to fuel her.

E n d l e s s  N i g h t
Chapter XII

"Are you all right?" Han asked, sitting next to Luke and proffering a water bottle.

"Hmm?" Luke murmured softly, taking the water bottle and trying not to let his hand tremble.  "No worse, I think."

"You sure?  You look a little queasy," Han commented concernedly.

Luke took a long swig before responding, "I think Cyan is sick.  He's trying to keep it from slipping over to me, but I can feel the memory of it.  It's making me a feel a little unwell, but I'll be ok."

Luke sat with his back pressed up against the tree.  They were deep in the Forest o' Fates, driven further each day by the Baf authorities that pursued them.  It seemed like they might have finally lost them but Han did not intend on taking any chances.  Unfortunately the going was slow; the humid forest was thick and clogged with vines.  On top of that, Tymi was weak from her captivity, Artoo had to be put on a stretcher such as the one Luke and Mara used on Myrkr, and Luke's wound was not heeling well.

"How's your shoulder?"

"I still can't seem to move the bullet out.  I think it's lodged in my shoulder," Luke replied, taking another drink and then handing the bottle back to Han.  "I'd close the wound over it but it isn't knitting well and I'd have to go into a long trance.  If we're going to keep moving…"

Han pat Luke's good arm and nodded, "Soon, kid.  Tymi said there are some foothills nearby.  We can find some shelter and you can heel up.  Just hold on a little longer, ok?"

"No problem.  After the Eye of Palpatine, this is nothing," Luke commented glibly, though the tiredness in his voice belayed his confidence.

Han nodded and left the water bottle beside Luke before walking to the other side of the fire.  "How are you doing?"

"This is gross," Mara declared, gesturing to the half skinned animal lying on a slab of rock in front of her.  "This is gross, and yet I know how to do it and it seems silly that it would be gross to anyone.  It's just a dead animal."

"Seriously, Mara, you could get your memory back any second now," Han told her, grinning at her discomfort.

"Yeah?" Mara muttered sullenly, "Can that moment be now?  I mean, why the hell do I know how to do this?" she said, flipping the pocketknife in the air, deftly catching the blade in her fingers and flipping it shut and slipped it into her sleeve.  Then in the same quick, confident manner she slipped it from her sleeve and reopened it all with one hand.

Han shrugged, "I've seen you do that hundreds of times.  Usually you do it just 'cause the rest of us can't.  It's insti—"

"Don't you dare," Mara growled, suddenly jumping to her feet and pointing the small knife at Han, her eyes flashing dangerously.  "I'm so sick of that word!  Like hell!  Like hell!  Someone taught me these things, damn it, and no one will tell me why!"

"Mara, calm down!  I'm sorry, I didn't mean to joke.  It's just a trick you learnt to do—"

"Then you do it!" Mara snarled, throwing the knife to the ground and storming into the forest.

"Mara!  Wait!  Don't go in there by yourself!" Han called, starting to go after her.

"Han, don't!" Luke called, struggling to his feet.  "She'll be ok—" His voice cut off when he stumbled, suddenly unable to support himself.  He caught himself against the tree and groaned, the forest swimming around him.  The next thing he knew he was lying on his back and Han was looking down at him, but all he could hear was ringing.

Mara did not notice as she strode angrily into the forest, struggling with her feelings.  She shouldn't get mad at Han—none of them had meant to put her in this situation.  She only had herself to blame for being there but she couldn't just let Luke go into danger without her.

That gave her pause and she stomped her foot in what she knew was childish anger before continuing.  She didn't know what was between them, but it had been something great, something spectacular.  Whether that had ended or if Luke just didn't want to take advantage of her with her memory gone was irrelevant.  There was an awkwardness every time they looked at each other, like a wall had been erected.  It was frustrating because she didn't know why.  Luke was wonderful, giving and understanding even when he had every reason to be concerned with his own wounds and troubles.  She could remember such simple things like how to skin an animal, tie a tourniquet, or even operate a blaster she'd found on the Falcon.  She could remember all those things but she could not remember what it was that Luke meant to her and why he wouldn't tell her.  She stomped her foot again, annoyed at her petulance but indulging while she could.  She was alone and tired and scared as hell.  She wasn't ready to be here.

She stopped, suddenly realizing that since she was in a place she didn't know she had better keep track of exactly where "here" was.  She had exited the forest into a small clearing, knee deep in tall grass tainted silver by the moonlight.  The forest was hushed for once and the stars shone brightly in the sky.

As she was gazing at the sky she was very startled when the quiet of the night was disturbed by the sound of singing.  Oddly, after her initial surprise she did not feel scared, though she figured she should be since they were being hunted.  She turned her eyes toward and sound and felt her breath catch in her throat.  On the other side of the clearing was a Chiss.

But not just any Chiss—somehow she knew this was not a Cragon and she had no need to worry.  The Chiss woman was clothed in a flowing white dress.  Her red eyes were looking away from Mara and her hair, unlike all the other Chiss Mara had met on her short stay on Bairn, was white and floated gently on the night breeze.  She was singing to herself and she was singing to the trees, their branches swaying in time.  The words were in Chiss and yet Mara understood them and she realized the woman was singing to her too.

She's like the mountains,

            Cold on high—

She's like the river,

            Flowing on nigh—

She's like the flower,

            Beauty that sigh—

She's the earth and the sky, and her heart's on fire.

She's like the grass,

            Her will goes long—

She's like the wind,

            Her voice like song—

She's like the soil,

            Richness prolong—

She's the earth and the sky, and her heart's on fire.

She's like the sea,

            With wilful intent—

She's like the stars,

            A power not meant—

She's like the trees,

            Endurance long sent—

She's the earth and the sky, and her heart's on fire.

She's like the amethyst,

            Words smooth like gold—

She's like the ruby,

            With fire untold—

She's like the bronze,

            Worth to unfold—

She's the earth and the sky, and her heart's on fire.

She's like the diamond,

            Wise on demand—

She's like the emerald,

            Will to defend—

She's like the sapphire,

            Passion without end—

She's the earth and the sky, and her heart's on fire.

She's the earth and the sky, and her heart's on fire.

By the end of the song Mara's sight wavered in her tears.  She hastily blinked them away, only to find that the mystery woman had gone.  Looking around frantically, she caught the wisp of the white dress disappear amongst the trees on the other side of the clearing.  Heedless of where this might take her, Mara plunged into the forest after the strange woman, knowing somehow that she held the answers.  The branches scraped and clawed at her, the night breeze now whispering a warning but she had to know, she had to know what lay before her.  She had to know what to do.

She wasn't sure how long she ran, but every time she thought she had lost the strange woman she would catch a glimpse of the diaphanous dress or a strand of wintry hair.  The forest closed in around her and the wind picked up—the trees swayed and creaked but now they urged her on, pressing her forward.  She gasped for breath, almost suffocating in the moist darkness of the forest.  She stumbled suddenly over a root and fell hands first into a puddle, sputtering in the tepid water.  She forced herself to stop and catch her breath.  Running heedlessly through an unfamiliar forest was stupid and she could very well be lost.  She looked up, wondering if there was any evidence of the mystery lady and blinked in surprise.  Ahead of her stood the entrance to a cave cut into a large rocky slope.  Swallowing spittle down her dry throat and rubbing the back of her hand across her damp forehead, she walked towards the entrance.  Any chance of her sneaking into the cave was probably long gone, her reckless run through the forest would have been audible for some distance if her splashing in the puddle hadn't alerted anyone.

"Hello?" she called, standing cautiously in the entrance and wondering is she should turn back.  She reached out with the Force, remembering Luke's advice that she follow its urgings.  She felt in the cave an odd kind of warmth—not like the cloying humidity of the darkness, more the comforting warmth of an embrace.  She pulled a glow rod from her belt and snapped it on.  "Is anyone there?" she tried again, walking slowly forward, but the only answer was her voice echoing eerily off of the walls of the cave.  Whatever lay within was very large.  She had no idea just how large until she walked for some metres and then came to a massive cavern.  She gasped in wonder, backing out of the cave and running back in the direction she had come, filled with a sudden urgency.  This was perfect.

She slowed down only when she was near the camp, realizing that it was oddly quiet.  Even the fire had been put out and she realized with a start that everyone was asleep.  She glanced at her wrist crono and was shocked to see that hours had passed since she first ran off.  Tip-toeing past Tymi and Poepoe, who slept soundly, she approached Luke and her sleeping bag, wondering is she should save her discovery until morning.  Once she was on the other side of the camp she saw Han propped up against the tree that Luke slept beside, glaring at her.

"Where have you been, Mara?" Han demanded, not too harshly.  "I was about to go looking for you."

Mara bit her lip, wondering if she should tell him about the strange woman.  Making a quick decision she decided to simply leave it until morning, "I found a cave.  It's—well, you'd have to see it.  I don't think I can quite describe it."

"Why?  Does someone live there?  We really should stay out of contact with people until Luke gets better, which could take a while," Han admonished gently.

"What do you mean?"

Han sighed warily, "He passed out just after you left.  I think the wound is infected and we've got limited supplies." Han paused and saw Mara's face go pale in the moonlight and instantly regretted telling her.  "He'll be all right, we just need to find a place where he can rest and go into a heeling trance.  He'll be as good as new in a few days with no help from us."

"Well, there's no one living in this cave," Mara told him, not wholly convinced of his story but deciding not to press the matter.  "I mean, someone did live there once, but a long time ago, I think.  And somehow I really doubt anyone will be coming back to check it out anytime soon."

"How can you be so sure?" Han asked.

Mara shrugged helplessly, "I just am."

Han looked at her closely and then nodded.  "Fine.  Help me put together another stretcher for Luke then—the quicker we're out of the open, the better as far as I'm concerned."

Mara sighed in relief and went to work.  She'd been half afraid that Han wouldn't go along with her description.  They woke Tymi and Poepoe up, mollifying the other with a promise that he would get to sleep in that morning.  The brother and sister packed up their things while Han and Mara put together the stretcher from their field supplies.  They transferred Luke to it without the Jedi Master so much as stirring from his deep sleep.

The walk to the cave took much longer this time and Han asked her on several occasions if she was sure she knew where she was going.  He let it drop after her fifth snapped retort and tried to think about the cloying closeness of the creaking trees.  By the time they arrived at the cave's entrance a false dawn was lighting the sky.  Mara relit her glow rod and held it in her teeth.  She walked without fear into the cave, the front of Luke's stretcher in her hands.  Upon entering the gigantic cavern Han had a reaction at least similar to Mara's.

"Holy mother of Sith and Hutt babies!" Han exclaimed, then biting down on his tongue when the sound echoed hugely throughout the room.  "What the hell made this?"

Mara shook her head, the wonder of her first sight not dulled a bit by the second glance.  "I don't know, but whatever or whoever it was is on our side—at least in the general sense of the term.  I feel…the Light Side is here, Han, this will be a good place for Luke to heel himself."

"Yeah, I guess so," Han replied as they lowered the stretcher gently to the floor.  He left Mara to tend to Luke and inspected the walls.  Squinting closely at their surface and running his fingers across it he realized it had been hand chiselled.  Stepping away from the wall he let his eyes rise toward the ceiling that was so high it was hidden in shadow, his expression one of unbridled awe.  It was shaped in an almost perfect ach all the way to the back—it was easily forty metres long.  Slender pillars wrought in blue quartz supported the cavern set in two even rows.  The pillars were engraved in gold, delicate letters that circled their width with stories that seemed to flow, even though none there could read them.  The same writing adorned strips that went up the walls at intervals.  On the strips were scones ready filled with torches.  Han walked around the spacious Hall—it was too opulent to call it simply a cavern—and lit the torches, examining the writing and some of the pictograms that went with it.  In the darkest part of the room rested a podium, it's slender stand shaped like a dragon, her wings outstretched, her head arched back in an expression of pain or ecstasy, her front paws stretched upward holding a book.  Upon closer inspection with a glow rod Han realized the book was real, but written in the same flowing script that decorated the room.  He lifted a page experimentally and it cracked and crumbled in his grasp.  He hastily stepped back with an irrational fear that the former occupants would take exception to his meddling.  He shook his head—Mara was right, whoever made this place wasn't about to come back anytime soon.

"Do you know what this place it?" Mara asked Tymi as they laid out a bedroll and gently shifted Luke onto it.

Tymi had to think hard before answering, "Ifen I be right, than this be a special place, a special place."

"What do you mean?" Mara asked, pulling a blanket around Luke's sleeping form.

"Can yea not feel it?" Tymi asked her, looking surprised that she hadn't figured it out for herself.

Mara shrugged and rubbed her bare arms, Goosebumps rising despite the warmth she felt there.  "I feel something, but I'm not sure what.  Luke would probably know better than me."

"This be th' place o' th' Jedi," Tymi said.  "I dinnea know what fer, but it be a special place that the Cragon be hatin'."

"Can you read the writing on the walls?" Mara asked, tracing some runes engraved in the floor.

Tymi shook her head, "Naw.  But ifen he be a Jedi, he should be able te read it.  They's th' ones who wrote it."

"I don't know," Mara murmured, tilting her head sideways in her search for some reconcilability in the text.  "I don't remember learning to be a Jedi, but I seem to remember how to do the stuff a Jedi can do, and I don't remember how to read this."

"It be old, older than when people first be comin' 'ere beside the Cragon.  Maybe it be diff'rent now," Tymi suggested.

"Maybe," Mara whispered, letting her fingers brush the runes and then move up to Luke's damp forehead.  "I wish he were awake.  He would know what to do."

"We was always told that when a Jedi be dreamin', he dream o' the stars," Tymi replied gently.

"Maybe he's not a sleep at all, maybe he's just dozing now," Mara suggested, though she doubted her own words.  "Luke?" she called gently, trying anyways.  "Luke?"

"Mmm…Mara?" he asked suddenly at the mention of stars, blinking against the glaring light.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?" Kassandra asked absently as she checked her gun.

Jedis shook his head, "It's nothing, just feeling a little out of sorts."

Kassandra glanced at him concernedly, "You know, we can always go back and they'll never be the wiser."

"What, and wait out the storm like the elders suggest?" Jedis demanded.  He shook his head, his sandy blond hair dropping in front of his bleu eyes.  "No thanks.  This isn't aggression, it's prevention.  I can't watch anymore of my friends die here."

Kassandra shrugged.  "Fine by me.  If I didn't agree with you, I wouldn't be here.  But, honey, this is going to get worse before it gets better."

"I know," Jedis said sadly, pushing her curly black hair off her shoulder.  Something about seeing her in combat gear made him love her even more.  "And I'd rather it happen now than when there's too few of us left to make a difference."

"There was more of us before," Kassandra and then she bit her lip.  "Sorry, I didn't mean—"

Jedis held up his hand to forestall her apology, "Don't worry about it.  Trust me, this will work.  I've never been so sure of a vision before this.  If we hadn't surrendered we would all have been killed."

"No one doubts that now," Kassandra told him, hoisting her backpack as he did the same.  "It's just that some are wondering if we shouldn't wait a little longer."

Jedis shook his head and pulled out a glasscutter, "No, no more waiting.  Let's go."

They removed the window and crept into the compound.  It was late at night and most of the Cragon who worked there had gone to bed.  Occasionally they ran into guards but those they couldn't safely sneak around proved easy for two Force sensitive individuals to dispatch.  They made it to the main generator in the power station and Kassandra touched Jedis' arm.

"Are you sure?  After this there's no turning back," she said softly.  "If they realize we're from the slave camp—"

Jedis compressed his lips to a thin line.  "Worse case scenario we screw up, those waiting for the shield to come down will realize it hasn't come down on schedule and they'll stay in hiding.  We might die, but they'll be safe…But like I told you before, Kassandra, I can do this on my own.  You should go back—"

"Yeah, right," Kassandra snorted.  "Like I'm going to leave you to get killed by yourself.  Let's get this over with."

He nodded and pushed the door open.  They both jumped to the side and waited for any return fire.  There was nothing though, only the hum and screech of heavy machinery.  After an appropriate wait Jedis peeked around the doorframe and then jogged forward, looking for the override controls.  He'd just reached the consol when it occurred to him to shut the door.  He was turning to tell Kassandra to do just that when the shriek of gunfire pierced the night air and shot through Kassandra's chest and into his side.

He hissed in pain and clutched at the wound.

"Sorry!" Mara whispered, snatching her hand away.  "I was checking your dressing."

Luke let out a sigh and relaxed on the bedroll.  "No, that's ok.  I—I was having a weird dream anyway."

"What was it about?" she asked curiously.

"I—I'm not sure," Luke replied, frowning at his surroundings.  "Mara, where are we?"

"I found a cave.  Tymi said Jedi made it.  It seemed like a good place to hide out," Mara told him, delicately cleaning the wound with a damp cloth.  "How are you feeling?"

"Better.  I must have passed out when I got up," Luke murmured.

"That's what Han said," Mara confirmed.  "But now you can go into a trance and heel yourself."

"I suppose," Luke mused.  "That writing…"

"Can you read it?"

Luke shook his head.  "No…but it's awfully familiar…"

"There's a book over there, it's very old.  I get the feeling it says something important, but I can't read it," Mara told him, replacing the bandage.  "When you're better we can look at it."

Luke nodded slowly, "I would like to, but I'm not sure if I'll be able to read it."

"You can try.  Maybe the Force will help you," Mara suggested, resting on the balls of her feet with her knees folded and her arms pressing them to her chest.  The gesture made her look all the younger to Luke, once again causing him to wonder if this might be something of what Mara would have been if the Emperor never found her.

"We'll see.  I don't suppose there's some food around?  I'd like to eat something before I go into the trance—it could be days before my next meal," Luke commented, propping his chest up on his elbows.

Mara glanced over her shoulder, "I think Han's cooking up something.  Morning's not too far off and I don't think he can sleep."

"He's probably just worrying—he tends to do mundane tasks when blowing something up with the Falcon can't fix what's going on around him," Luke told her, watching his brother stir the contents of a bowl resting on a small sonic heater.

Mara smiled faintly and left to get some food for him.  Luke lay back and contemplated the dark ceiling above him before turning his attention inward.  It seemed the wound was infected as Han had postulated earlier.  Luke could feel a strange heat spreading from the wound to the rest of his body, creeping through his veins until all of his person was engulfed by it.  His skin felt fevered and he was settling closer to the ground.  His skin was drenched in sweat—no, it was blood, his blood seeping from the belly wound.  Jedis blinked his eyes clear of the redness that had fallen to obscure his view.  He turned his head and saw Kassandra lying in a pool of her own blood, unmoving.  He stretched out with the Living Force but could not feel her presence.  She was cold and had already moved beyond this coarse flesh.

"No…" Jedis whispered, reaching out for her lifeless hand.  "NO!"

The Cragon officer that was responsible for her death was jogging up the corridor, his fellow officers close behind.  Their guns were all pointed at Jedis since he was the only one of the two humans who had any life left in them.  Heedless of the wrath he might provoke, Jedis crawled to Kassandra's side and touched her face—as pale and beautiful in death as she had been in life.

"Why didn't I listen to you?" Jedis whispered, the palm of his left hand pressing into his still gushing wound, the fingers of his right knotted in Kassandra's blood soaked hair.  He felt the barrel of a gun push against the back of his neck and a harsh voice demanded that he stand up if he could.  Jedis kept his eyes locked on Kassandra's face, struggling in vain with the fury that rose in him like a twin sun to his grief.

"Get up, Force Follower, or I'll blow your skull open and leave your girl friend for the scavengers to use as they please."

"No, you won't," Jedis replied, his voice filled with a dangerous calm.  He turned his red-rimmed eyes on the officer and snarled, "You are the one who will be left to the scavengers!"

With those words Jedis gave into the Dark power and thrust the guards away from him.  Standing over his lifeless mate's body he easily snatched their guns away from them and smashed the weapons together.  He laughed at their shocked expressions before he used the remaining pieces of the guns to slit their throats.  He spared the one who had shot Kassandra only for a moment.  Using the Force to levitate an especially jagged piece of metal he drove it first into one of the officer's eyes, than the other.  The guard screamed in agony as Jedis lifted him into the air and slammed him against the wall.  Jedis lift his hand and squeezed his fist shut, constricting the guard's windpipe until he was almost dead.  Then Jedis spread his fingers and with the Dark power that flowed through him he ripped the man's arms free of his torso.

Hearing the footsteps of reinforcements approaching, Jedis negligently tossed the body parts aside and turned eagerly to the door, thirsty for revenge to fill the dark hollow forming at his centre.  When the new group of guards came into view at the and of the corridor Jedis extended his arms down is sides and curled his fingers as if grabbing onto something.  Tensing his arms he heaved the floor of the corridor in the way of the Cragon, and then pushed the ground towards them until he could hear their bodies crunching against the wall.

He began to walk forward, impatient for more pray, when he slipped in Kassandra's blood and fell to his knees.  He tried to regain his feet but wavered.  In his anger he had forgotten his own wound that continued to drain him of his life's blood.  He tried to draw on the Force to sustain him or at least slow the flow but the Dark energies he was calling on did not have the ability to heal—only destroy.  He looked up, expecting to see more Cragon spilling into the room ready to end his life.  Instead he saw the ephemeral image of Kassandra standing in the doorway, her eyes pleading.  More tears flooded his eyes when he realized what he'd done, realized that it was the last things she would want him to do.  Even though he had gone against the traditions passed down to him from generations she still pleading with him to run, to live for another time.  Galvanized by a need to prove that he could honour her death better than by sowing destruction, Jedis managed to bring his emotions into line enough to draw on the Force.  Struggling to his feet he once again turned to the corridor but the image of Kassandra was gone, replaced by the sound of more Cragon soldiers attempting to get past the debris he had created.

The operation was long since a failure—the compound was alerted to trouble and the others would have abandoned their hiding places.  The only thing left for Jedis to do was go into hiding and hope he could live long enough to find his way back into the light.

He stepped into the ruined corridor and found one of the walls near enough to collapse that it was easy enough for him to use the Force to bring it the rest of the way down.  He stepped into the night and darted for the bushes that rimmed the compound, past them into the deep forest that engulfed most of Cragnal.  The trees closed around him, their branches whispering in fear as the people from the sheltered ran amongst their ranks, seeking out the errant Force Follower.  Jedis ran for as long as he could, blood running freely from his wound despite his best efforts.  By the time he reached a clearing he was so weak and dizzy that he stumbled and fell amongst the tall grass.  His nostrils were filled with the contrasting scents of moist earth, the biting smell of vegetation and the acrid odour of his own blood. 

Everything was swimming around him and he could find no purchase.  He rolled onto his back to get his barring only to see the once black ceiling now thrown into stark contrast by the morning sunlight that found its way into the great hall.  Luke turned his head to his side and saw Mara lying next to him, her face pale and dark patches forming under her eyes.  Suddenly afraid, he touched her check and found her skin warm.  He let out a sigh of relief and heard the shuffling of cloth beside him.  He slowly forced his head to turn in the other direction and saw Han kneeling next to him.

"Hey, kid," Han said with a lopsided grin as he set a bowl on the ground beside him and helped Luke to a partial sitting position.  "Awake again?"

"I guess so.  Did I pass out again?" Luke asked, his voice coming out weaker than he'd expected.

Han nodded and helped Luke drink from the bowl.  "Yeah, you gotta stop doing that.  Scared Mara half to death."

"At least she's asleep now," Luke murmured between gulping down the sweet broth.  "Have you been up all night?"

Han nodded again and took the bowl away when Luke gestured feebly that we was done.  "Yup.  I wanted to make sure you'd get something in you if you woke up, and then make sure you went into a healing trance before you pass out again."

That was only part of the truth.  Han didn't think he could sleep even if he tried.  When Mara realized Luke was once again unconscious and there was nothing really that they could do for him, Han spent the waning hours of the night inspecting the intricate designs and pictograms that adorned the walls.  They were arranged in a band that encircled the hall, started from the right side of the entrance and ending on the left.  The strips that went up the walls occasionally broke the horizontal band.  The story began on the right with what looked like two children surrounded by adults delivering gifts in a lush jungle, graced by a small but delicately wrought sun.  The next panel showed one child with his arms raised to the sky where a new sun appeared, beside him the other child wept.  Now the adults were bowed with either awe or pain—their expressions were ambivalent—and their surroundings were scorched with fire.  What intrigued Han the most about the scene was that the newly created sun reminded of jewellery he often saw traded on the black market in the Outer Rim, mostly around Tatooine.  That put him in mind of Luke and the similarities did not end there.

The first scene finished with the child that heralded the new sun being slain by the adults and the other fleeing.  The child that escaped landed on a new world and as he grew taller, gathered peoples of different races around him.  At one point the child, now an adolescent, was seen walking the in the air, eyes humbly lowered to the ground.  Then with no lead in that Han could detect (though there was some writing that he sensed explained some sort of connection) a new scene developed.  After the first scene the rest took on a sort of pattern, alternating between the lives of a set of twins or a single individual (female or male, that did not follow any pattern that Han could detect).  The protagonist(s) would grow in power, get into trouble and almost die, then find some new strength and overcome their enemies—the number of which grew with each successive story.  Each story contained some element that could be linked to Luke's life.  The protagonist, or one of the twins, would have uncommonly good piloting skills.  Their eyes were set with sky blue sapphire.  Most eerie of all, the protagonist, or one of the twins, would loose their right hand as some point in the story. 

Han became more and more worried as he tried to decipher the story.  In all of the narratives, the protagonist, or one of the twins, would die saving the day.  Is this what was destined for Luke?  That set moment in time he could not see past?  It seemed like an inescapable cycle that would go on till the end of time. 

He reached the second last story and had a start—there for the first time was a dragon.  She—Han was sure it was a she, probably the Mother Dragon—was wrought in flawless diamond.  The crystal had an odd pattern that while familiar Han couldn't place.  He looked closely at it for a long time and then realized it reminded him of Cyan's scales.  Perhaps these were the scales of the Mother Dragon herself.  The thought was intriguing, especially given the ornate pedestal cradling the ancient book.  The story showed a man, Han assume it must be Jedis, carrying out the events that Yeema told him years ago.  The scene ended with Jedis down on his knees on a hill before a great fortress that crumbled from the inside out.  The next panel showed a faded image of Jedis walking the sky while underneath him the Mother Dragon wrote in a book.

The next panel shocked Han to the core, for there laid out before him was Luke's story.  It ran eerily similar to Jedis' in many ways, but different in several key ones.  Jedis appeared to have lost the woman he loved only to gain another, while Mara showed up late in Luke's story she stayed steadfast until the end.  This heartened Han greatly as he surveyed the stylized renditions of the Death Stars (both in the sky at once, oddly enough), the attack of Thrawn, the fall of Calista and Daala (again, both rendered at the same time), Luke and Mara (who was wrought with fiery ruby for her hair and jade in her eyes) embracing each other and surrounded by Qom Qae and Qom Jha.  The birth of Ben, the birth and entrapment of Cyan, Luke's madness cleverly depicted in a single frame, Cyan's resurrection and Luke's journey into the Wilder Regions.  Their battles, culminating in the accidental temporary paralysis of Luke and Mara's fall from the ridge (again rendered in the same frame).  The next frame puzzled Han, for it showed Luke and Mara standing on opposite sides of a great forest, the former looking behind him, the later shielding her eyes from the sun.  Along side Luke's narrative ran Leia's story, depicted with the same clever detail.  Her rise to senator on Alderaan, her capture by Darth Vader, her part in the destruction of the second Death Star, her rise to power in the New Republic, and her breaking with it.  It showed her betrayal of Cyan and later she stood leading multitudes.  Han smiled without meaning too—of all the strange things he'd scene in those few hours, that was one frame that did not surprise him.  Leia and Luke's stories ran mostly parallel, sometimes crisscrossing.  Han occasionally saw himself, though predictably he did not play as large a part as Luke or Leia, or even Cyan or Mara.  The familiarity with which the narrative was coloured evaporated quickly.  After the frame depicting Luke and Mara in the forest, it shifted to one with Luke on a crucifix and Mara sitting at his feet.  Behind them was a hill that led to a crater and in a sudden fit of inspiration Han realized it was wrought in the same stone as the hill that Jedis stood on for his final stand.  The next frame could have been copied directly from the Jedis narrative, with all the Jedi arrayed on another hill before a fortress that crumbled from within.  Luke stood on the hill, down on his knees and his eyes turned backward.  There the narrative ended.  Han stood for a long time, staring at the large block of text that ended the grand narrative, cursing his inability to read it, the happenstance that brought Artoo along but not Threepio.  He cursed the skilful artisans who for all their knowledge did not seem to know anymore than Luke had managed to learn since the beginning of his unwilling journey into Cragon space.

There was nothing to be done about it now, however, since Luke was the only one there who stood a chance of being able to decipher the writing.  Han knew that telling Luke about the carvings would only make him want to investigate them. He instead choose to remain silent about them and lowered Luke carefully back to his bedroll.  Han would tell him when he awoke from his trance, and then maybe they could make sense of this mess and get off world before some of the more unpleasant parts came into being.

"How long do you think it'll take you to heal?" Han asked, settling down beside his brother.

Luke could hear the sound of Tymi prodding her unwilling brother out of bed.  "I'm not sure.  I feel…I've had such a hard time staying awake.  And Cyan…"

"What?" Han prompted when Luke's voice trailed off in uncertainty.

"He's sick too," Luke answered finally.  "He's trying to send me what strength he can, but something's happened to him.  He's been…infected, just like me."

"Was he hurt in the escape?" Han asked.

Luke shook his head and then wished he hadn't when pain flared in his shoulder.  "No…Wurth…he's dead, but something took him."

"Took him?"

"Took him," Luke repeated, trying to make sense of the images coming to him from his dragon.  The memories sorted themselves out eventually, but it was hard going.  "I'm not sure, but I don't think he's going to be able to help me until he can exorcise his own daemons."

"Daemons?" Han repeated, feeling Luke's forehead.  "Kid, I think you're hallucinating again.  Maybe you should go into that trance now."

"That's just it.  I can't," Luke whispered, pulling away from Han's hand in annoyance.  "I can't concentrate, there's to many pictures, to many stories floating around and I can't make sense of any of them, not even my own."

Han glanced at the pictograms and swallowed.  "Just try not to think about that right now.  There's nothing to be done at the moment so just focus on getting better.  We'll sort things out then."

"No," Luke moaned, shaking his head again, more vigorously this time and Han could see the sweat bedding on his forehead.  "There is something going on now.  Someone's telling me a story and I don't know how it ends."

Tymi suddenly knelt by Luke's side, looking at his fevered and flushed face in concern.  "Is he getting' worse, do yea think?  Cannea the Force 'elp 'im?"

"There's something wrong, very wrong," Han murmured.  "He is getting worse and I don't think the Force is going to help him get better just yet."

"Let mea 'ave a look," Tymi said, pulling back the bandage that covered Luke's shoulder.  Her hair brushed over Luke's eyes, obstructing his view of the ceiling.  He brushed it away absently, though it was surprisingly soft and pleasant on his face.  When he could see again the stars were winking mischievously in the sky.  The hair was white as the stars and adorned the head of a beautiful Chiss woman.  Her lips were moving, wrapping around words that Jedis could not hear.  It was some time before he could understand.

"Are you all right?  Can you hear me at all?" she said, sounding hopeless.

"Yes," Jedis replied, his voice cracking out of a parched throat.  He was still in the clearing.  He could feel dried blood on his skin, stiffening his shirt.  He wondered how long he had lain there.  "I…I'm sorry, I'm hurt, it's hard…"

She smiled and Jedis was disarmed completely.  How odd that in the entire time he was imprisoned on Cragnal he never once found one of their people pretty until now.  It wasn't that he was attracted to her, the image of Kassandra—perfect in death—still floated in his periphery.  Still, he was painfully aware that she was good-looking and that she would be noticed by the Cragon elite—which meant she probably knew he was being hunted.

"I figured you were hurt, what with the puddle of blood.  I suggest that if you want to live, you tell me whether or not you are capable of standing," she said blandly, removing her buckskin coat and tearing out the lining to make a cotton swab.  She untied a satiny strip of fabric that was attempting to hold her mass of hair in place and bound the cotton to his wound.  He nodded thankfully and gingerly sat up, feeling the world suddenly spin around him.  Then her hand was around his back, her skin cool and relieving.  He got precariously to his feet, leaning heavily on her.  He wondered if this wasn't some sort of trap, one of the elders playing some sort of sadistic game, but he could feel no deception from her.  If this was a trick, she wasn't in on it.

"What's your name?" he managed to ask as she helped him back into the forest—he couldn't tell if this was the same or opposite direction he had come from.

"Fidella," she replied, glanced nervously behind her.  "I don't suppose you have a gun with you?"

Jedis thought ruefully of the weapon he left sitting on the floor of the engine room.  "Not any more."

"Great," she growled, "you Force Followers must be the most impractical people in the universe.  It's a wonder you lasted as long as you did."

"You know who I am?" Jedis asked surprised.  Most of the Cragon guards he'd had the unfortunate pleasure of speaking with claimed they could not tell one human apart from the other.

Fidella turned and smiled at him again, something she seemed especially apt to do.  "All the Cragon girls know who you are."  With no further elaboration she pulled him deeper into the forest, the trees pressing closer as if to cover their backs.  His breathing was laboured, and he was limping.  Fidella did not seem any worse for his weight dragging her down—more and more of it being piled on her slender shoulders as they travelled.  Jedis wasn't sure how far they had gone when he started to see black spots in his vision.  His legs buckled and he fell to his knees, the forest floor moist against his hand when he tried to brace himself from falling all the way.  He seemed to have pulled Fidella with him and she was pleading with him to get back up but he couldn't.  He'd lost too much blood and the Force had abandoned him to his fate.

"Please wake up!" he heard her say as if from across a chasm, as if the land had broken away between them and she was sliding down a cliff and he reached out his hand to her but she couldn't reach him or wouldn't so he flailed about desperately as she still called to him until finally, finally after much struggling he felt her hand in his and he cried out her name in relief and struggled to get a tighter grip and now her words were soothing, she was there, she was there and she could not leave him and he called her name in a sort of ecstasy and he felt her lips on his and he saw her hair again and it was blue, and it was red and her eyes were hard jade and he broke away, his body trembling in shock and sodden in dewy sweat.

"Mara!"

She smiled and it was striking like the smile of Fidella.  "Don't wear it out."

"I—"

"—was dreaming," she supplied, the jade becoming harder but some of the fire leaving, reflecting the blue in her hair.  "I know, you were having a nightmare."

"I don't know what I was having," he murmured, realizing that he wasn't just trembling but shivering in the morning chill.  The wound seemed less warm and he realized there were some leaves crushed between the compress and his skin.

"Tymi brought those, she said you had Forest Fever, it's apparently common and these leave will help clear your head," Mara explained.  She noticed him shivering and brought the blanket from her own bedroll and draped it over him.  "Will you go into a healing trance now?"

He swallowed, feeling oddly lucid, but that could be the product of his fevered perceptions.  He shook his head harshly—if he kept thinking like that he wouldn't be able to keep anything straight.  And maybe it was time to end this ride.  That final fall in the forest felt something like a climax, an ending at least and he was very tired.  Closing his eyes Luke concentrated on the Force, pushing away the sound of the sonic burner heating up breakfast, someone walking about the cavern, Mara's breathing.  He waited for that comforting darkness, not like that of the Dark Side but the darkness of his room at night when he held Mara in his arms and all he could smell was her hair, her hair that was in his eyes and the smell of the forest in his nostrils and with a start he realized he was loosing consciousness again, even more quickly than before and he flailed out again and instantly felt a hand grip his.  He sighed in relief and opened his eyes to see Fidella smiling again.  He lay in a spacious cave and the crackle of a fire could be heard nearby.

"I wasn't sure if you were going to wake up," she said softly, settling beside him.

"Neither was I," Jedis replied.  "How did we get here?  I don't remember walking here."

Fidella's smile broadened and her eyes twinkled like the mischievous stars he had seen the night before.  "You didn't.  I hauled that carcass of yours the whole way here, took me four hours too.  I would have been awfully put out if you hadn't made it alive."

"Why did you do that?" he asked in wonder.

"I had to," Fidella replied with a shrug.  "You Force Followers think you're the only ones who revere life?"

"Of course not—"

"Then stop acting like it," she quipped.  Her surprised expression told him she hadn't meant to be that harsh.  "Sorry, that's a generalization.  I don't actually know you at all."

Jedis shrugged, slowly pushing himself to a sitting position to better survey his surroundings.  "Not so hard an error to make.  There are many of my people who think that way."

"But you're their teacher," Fidella said, confused.

Jedis shook his head, "No, I'm just the Descendent.  They defer to me, but don't always listen to what I say.  Except when it suits their purpose."

"Aren't you the one who convinced them to surrender?" she asked.

"Yes," Jedis replied slowly, eyeing her.  "You know an awful lot for a Chiss woman—if you'll excuse my generalization."

She snorted derisively.  "Not a generalization so much as a fact these days.  I managed to get accepted into the army before the edict went out preventing woman from applying.  My test scores were good enough that they made an exception for me.  I was at Bilbringi for the Fall, so I heard your surrender notice over the comm."

"So, was it my voice you recognized?"

She shook her head, "No.  You were deemed the most dangerous of the prisoners.  All officers serving here are required to memorize your photo and some others."

"It's nice to be noticed," Jedis murmured, looking out the entrance.  "But that still doesn't explain why you're helping me.  Unless you have other plans."

"Try and hide something from a Force Follower?  Don't give me much credit, do you," she commented.

Jedis shrugged.  "Some have more confidence in the strength of their mind than others.  They are usually the easiest to read."

"I'm hardly surprised," Fidella remarked, pulling a pan off the fire and placing some food on his plate.  "You should eat this."

Jedis accepted the food without complaint, though it was Chiss made which usually turned his stomach.  She still had not explained why she was helping him but he did not want to antagonize her by pushing for an answer.  For now all he needed to know was that she was willing to help him and the Force told him he could trust her.  "What do we do now?  Hang out here for as long as we can, then move on?"

"Perhaps.  Though I thought you might be interested in freeing your people," Fidella replied, eating some food herself.  "I figure you wouldn't have surrendered if you didn't have some sort of plan.  You Force Followers can see the future, can't you?"

Jedis nodded, his interest peaked.  "How do you come to know so much about us?"

"The Cragon are obsessed with you, and I work—worked for the Cragon.  Our elders want your power," Fidella told him.

"Some have succeeded," Jedis murmured, his expression darkening.  "At the cost of many of my peoples' lives."

She nodded, sensing that this was a subject that she should avoid.  She decided to work to a different track, "I saw what you did at the generator.  I've never seen anything like it."

"That…that should not have happened," Jedis said, his expression growing darker still.

"But if you could do that, even wounded," she gestured to his bandaged side, "than why didn't all the Force Followers join together at Bilbringi and drive us away."

"You don't understand—I was using the Dark Side.  I did it to hurt others for the sake of hurting them, because they hurt me and killed my wife.  I was angry and if I had continued on that path that anger would have eaten me from the inside out.  The stars only know how much damage I would have inflicted in the mean time."

"Oh, I didn't know it worked that way," Fidella said.

"Few do," Jedis said, his voice a little ragged with restrained emotion.  He didn't want to think about Kassandra.  If he dwelt on her too much, he was sure he would fall again.  "That's why what your elders are doing is so dangerous.  They don't know the ruin they will bring on to themselves, probably their people too.  Not to mention the damage they could, and have, done to countless other societies.  The Dark Side drives them already."

"I can see it, so can many others.  Not all of us want what they want," Fidella told him quietly.

"Not enough."

She didn't reply immediately, for his grief was palpable.  "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"Thank you," he murmured, without seeming to really hear her.  Fidella left him to his thoughts and busied herself by dosing the fire with sand and repacking her things.  He watched her work and then asked, "We're not staying here?"

"We have to go into town to get supplies.  I don't want to leave you alone in case they come back, and we shouldn't leave any obvious traces that we were here.  We'll probably come back here later though," she explained, hoisting a satchel he'd never noticed her carrying.  "Are you well enough to walk?"

He nodded, "I think so.  I went into a trance and used the Force to heal myself somewhat when I passed out.  It's become reflex by now, I've done it so often.  I should be well enough to travel.  At the vary least you shouldn't have to carry me."

"Thank the All," Fidella said, her smile the biggest yet.  "And if you can walk, than you can pack up your own bedroll."

He smiled in return and lay back for a moment, gathering strength and clearing his head of any lingering fuzziness before he attempted to rise.  He wasn't as healed as he let on, but he should be ok—he'd travelled in much worse condition than this.  He rose from the bedroll and packed it away and then inspected the cave while Fidella stowed the rest of her belongings.  He wondered if Fidella came here often and if that was why she was reluctant to betray its position.  He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do here, but he would just have to rely on the Force to give him guidance.  Kassandra and the other Force Followers were so sure that he was the Descendant, and that it was only a matter of time before he ended this cycle.  He didn't feel like the Descendant, but he wasn't exactly sure what that feeling should be.  He was simply himself, though he wished he had more guidance than the faded tales of his ancestors.  He reached the back of the cave and felt a sudden dizzy spell overcome him.  He fell to his knees and when he looked up, he was greeted with the eyes of a dragon.

Luke started at the sight, wondering how he had gotten up.  The dragon pedestal stood before him, inviting him closer.  He had no doubt that it was the Mother Dragon.  He could see it in her eyes, eyes of infinite knowledge that promised to show him the way.  Exerting all the will power that was at his disposal, he climbed back to his feet and took the single step that led to the pedestal.  He saw the book and knew that it was written in an ancient Jedi script, probably dating to Jedis' time.  These were the words of the Mother Dragon.  He had found Cragnal without really trying, he had come just as Yeswa said he would.  He touched the pages and knew that they contained the story of the Jedi who came before him, who suffered the same trials.  He realized that the Set Moment he had foreseen was only referred to as the Second Desolation because there were still some left alive that remembered the one that came before.  He wanted desperately to read the book but feared to as well.  What if it contained the answers, what if it contained the ending and he did not want to go through with it.  He wasn't even trying to come to Cragnal—the information Yeswa had given him had long ago slipped his mind to be replaced with greater worries.  This book might tell him the end, but what if he saw the ending and he could do nothing to change it?

No, he could not let fear control his actions, he could not let it dominate him.  He was just reaching to turn the page when he heard someone enter the cave behind him.

"Luke!  You're up!" Mara exclaimed, rushing to him.  Luke turned unsteadily and realized that it was already night again.  Or had he just imagined the morning, just as he had imagined that he could avoid seeing the rest of Jedis' story?  As Mara ran towards him Luke felt his knees buckle.  She caught him just in time, and he saw a flash of blue and red and then he was pulled into an ally, struggling desperately to stay on his feet, to avoid the Cragon chasing him and then Fidella was pulling him through a door and he was surrounded by people heaving to a primordial beat that shook him to the bone, that echoed the sound of his heart pounding and the steady flow of his reopened wound.  Fidella pulled his hood over his head and drew him close, wrapping her arms around his waist and echoing the beat of his heart.

"Dance," she whispered in his ear, her lips soft against his cheek and he wondered if she were smiling again.  He began to sway despite himself, his arms finding their way around her waist while he buried his face against her shoulder, which was so perfectly the right height.  "Keep dancing," she murmured again, holding him tighter and spinning him further into the crowd when the door opened and guards began to move throughout the crowd.  Their bodies pressed more closely together, as if by melding into one they would be more difficult to see.  His breathing came harder and he wondered what he was doing, how he could do this, how he could let her skin and her writhing body and her smell and her smile intoxicate him when he could still feel Kassandra hovering behind him, hovering like the guards and pushing him closer to Fidella but it had hardly been a day and he loved her and he missed her and it should have worked and he should have listened to her but he didn't and now she was gone and he was in Fidella's arms and he knew they would get away and in the cave he would hold her in his arms and he would breathe harshly against her neck as he poured everything into her and hold her as a surrogate but he couldn't love her because Kassandra was at his back pushing him against her and for now he was on a dance floor just dancing, keep dancing, don't look up, pretend your in love so they'll leave you alone, leave you alone and stop putting these destinies on you and leave you to your fate to be alone and be in the Force like you've wanted to be as a child and you looked at the sun and said that was my mother and my father and I will be them some day as white hot as the sun just as his love was before it died so now he held Fidella in his hands and later he would hold her tighter, hold her trembling body, so pliant for no good reason, she didn't know him, didn't remember him, didn't love him like Kassandra only with an instinctual, primordial desperation of his twin sun personified all around him and accepting his seed and splashing his heat back at him and for the first time in such a long time he felt warm, warmer than he'd ever been and she was frightened but willing, desperate to understand why she would want him, why he would love her when she did not know herself what she was but he knew her and loved her and she would take him in her to learn what she was but she was as afraid of the future as he was and terrified of being scorched by the sun should she offend it and Luke only wanted her to realized her own power, that of a blazing star to light the darkness and that he loved the strength of her light and how it shines on him and blessed him and without knowing just how she was in his arms and gasping in confused ecstasy as he undressed her with ancient intent.

Luke pulled away, struggling to get enough air down his lungs, his body shaking with lust, demanding a completion of the vision.  Mara lay beneath him, half undressed, as confused as he was and suddenly she pulled her shirt closed and said in worry, "You're bleeding again."

He could feel it running down his naked chest and dripping onto her exposed abdomen.  He somehow got to his feet, backing away from her as the dragon pedestal looking down at him in sadness.  He stumbled backwards, somehow staying on his feet and he fled out of the cave into the dark night and the waiting trees.  He ran without seeing, feeling the dragon's wings beat at his back, feeling Kassandra pushing him onward.  He came to the clearing, the clearing where Mara had received the vision that brought her to the Hall of the Jedi and where Jedis met his gateway to the underworld.  There stood Fidella in all her splendour, smiling sadly.

"I am not him!  I am myself!  I am myself!" Luke screamed in desperation.  "Why are you doing this?  I don't know what I'm supposed to do anymore!  Stop ripping me apart!"

"I can't help you now," Fidella said, tears in her eyes.  "That Darkness that you say overtook you, it's still there and I can't help you until you accept its place.  But I can help you escape for now.  That way you'll have time to heal, time to figure out what it is you're supposed to do."

In that time long ago Fidella had helped Jedis onto a space ship that would be chased and ultimately crash-land on K'ti'ma V.  Luke's escape was sleep—pure darkness without dreams.  He collapsed in the exact place Jedis had, blood still seeping from his wound to be absorbed by the thirsty soil.  His arms stretched out on either side of him and he wondered if he had been crucified already, for he felt nailed to the earth.  Before he lost unconscious he looked up at the sky cart wheeling overhead and knew that somewhere up there soared his dragon.

I n s a t i a b l e  F a t e

Chapter XIII

Cyan stood in a room containing a transparasteel port that faced Baf.  He could feel Luke getting sicker and drawn deeper into the history that blanketed Baf from most of the Jedi.  Cyan could see the "real" sickness infecting his padmiri, and he could sense the one imposed by the Force—Luke was completely overcome and Cyan could spare none of his strength to help.  Whatever had taken over Wurth crawled through Cyan's veins like a gangrenous spider seeking desperately to feed itself before it died.  Cyan would not let it feed off of him, he could not.  He could feel its dark power tempting him in everything he did but he refused to succumb—if he did Luke would stand no chance of recovery.  Outwardly he looked perfectly normal, but a closer look showed his serpentine body trembling in exhaustion.  He turned his head toward the other occupant of the room. 

"They're fine for now," Cyan told Mirax, his voice coming out slightly less fatigued than he felt.  "I can tell you that much.  But Luke is unconscious and I do not know how long it will be before he awakens.  I expect we have time to do something."

Mirax nodded, sensing Cyan's inward struggle.  "But what?  Blacksky is under investigation now but she has a lot of power left at her disposal.  Her husband's disappeared to the Stars only know where and if we don't act soon Blacksky will take off too."

"I understand," Cyan said, appreciating her anxiousness to do something for Corran, "but I'm sure Leia is doing her best.  I know how tenacious that woman can be when she wants to take someone down."

"I know, but what if Blacksky takes off and we never find her?" Mirax asked, walking forward and sitting at a table.  The room was ordinarily used as a private dining or meeting room, but Cyan had taken to coming there as some place quiet where he would not be disturbed.

Cyan smiled predatorily, "Than I shall hunt her down like the worthless vermin she is."  He felt the sickness in his blood surge with sudden strength at his words and he shook his head to clear it.  "If Leia fails, I will not fail—nor will you.  You have done well and pushed us much closer to heeling Corran than we've been in months."

"I know," Mirax replied, "but it's frustrating.  He's my husband and I love him, I just want him back.  I should be able to get him back."

Cyan crooned soothingly, "Mirax, you must understand that you are never going to get him 'back'.  Whatever happens, the blindness is probably permanent and he has lived in this state of depression for a while now—he is not the Corran he was and can never be short of wiping his memory."  Mirax looked up at Cyan and he saw tears forming in his eyes.  He purred in gentle admonishment, "That, however, is no reason to believe that you have not or that you cannot helped him.  It isn't your fault he lost the Force and you have done all that you can to get it back.  I know that means much to him."

Mirax nodded then laughed softly, "You know, you're starting to sound less like a crazy dragon and more like your padmiri."

"Yes, well, someone has to," Cyan commented dryly.  "He was the one with a direction, we're lost without him."

Mirax shook her head firmly, "And I know that isn't true.  You've been holding up very well, Cyan.  You know, sometimes you don't appreciate your own worth beyond protection."

Cyan ducked his head in modest embarrassment.  "Well, anyways, things aren't so bad as you think.  Give Leia time.  Things will work out, even if I have to make them."

*          *          *

"How quickly do you think we can move this to court?" Leia asked as she, Winter and Karrde sat in her office with Nawara Ven, a former lawyer turned Rogue Squadron executive officer.

Nawara shrugged, "It depends on how you want to handle this.  Once this goes to court all the information involved cannot be used outside of it.  On the other hand, with a trial we could get a court order for a more extensive medical scans that will prove the implant came from Corran.  The difficulty will be in proving she received the transplant from the Cragon—she could claim to be unaware where it came from."

"I have the medical records sliced from Daa'mnvilla but they don't tell us anything conclusive.  There was an operation performed, but the resources would be the same for both types of operations.  No records remain of the physicians who would have performed the operation, but Blacksky's sure to find someone.  What we really need is actual recordings of the operation," Karrde said.

Leia shook her head, "Well, unless your slicer missed something, there's no record on Daa'mnvilla."

"He claims he was thorough."

"I'm sure."

"The point is," Karrde continued smoothly, "that the lack of a recording can mean one of two things.  Either they managed to disable the recording facilities there or the operation was performed elsewhere."

Nawara snorted, " 'Elsewhere' is a pretty general somewhere."

"True, but there are places we could start, such as with Cragon's Pride," Karrde said.  "That was the ship that captured Corran and was holding Ben Skywalker after the Threnody was destroyed."

Leia's eyebrows quirked in surprise, "Well, yes, but the last time Luke and a team of Jedi tried to get on that ship is was disastrous.  How do you propose to get on the ship and stay undetected long enough to slice into their system?"

"Do they trade from the ship?" Nawara asked.

"Sometimes," Karrde confirmed.  "Usually only during protracted missions where they don't want a supply line slowing them down.  In fact, I believe they are currently charged with finding Bairn, and they've been at it for a while now.  It might be possible to get on that way."

"Well, now we have a plan, but who is to execute it?" Nawara asked.

"I'll put in a call to Cyan.  I'm sure they'd have someone around willing—plus Mirax is there right now, and she'll definitely want to be involved.  They'll probably need your slicer again.  I hate to involve your personnel in this, though.  It could get you in trouble."

Karrde shook his head dismissively.  "If Mara had her memory back she would never forgive me for not helping out.  Besides, I have a certain respect for Master Horn and these aren't any activities I wouldn't have to check out anyway.  You forget that I don't just work for the New Republic—and the Empire has made a clear choice of which side they're on."

Leia nodded and would have added something but Nawara cleared his through and interjected, "While getting a recording would help us, we still have to decide how to proceed, and soon.  The accusation is out in the open now thanks to that well timed argument in the last Senate meeting—"

"I don't know if I would call it well timed seeing as even we weren't ready for what I'd do."

"That's true, President," Nawara consented, "but if we don't act soon the accusation will seem empty and petty."

Leia nodded, "And further undermine my credibility, especially with the none-human factions if only because I am human and Blacksky is not…I think it would be best to press charges now and hope for a court date far enough in the future that we can get the evidence that we need."

"That is probably the only viable path unless you want this to turn into a slugging match every time a council meeting is held," Karrde commented.

"I thought it already was," Leia reply wryly.  "Can you fill out all the appropriate paperwork, Nawara?"

"Of course, it's mostly done already."

Leia smiled, there really was only one choice.  "Good, then I'll contact Cyan and see what we can arranged."

"Isn't he waited at Baf for a chance to rescue Luke, Han and Mara?" Karrde asked, his eyes darkening almost imperceptibly.

Leia paused before answering.  Cyan's last message had been brief on detail and she wondered if Karrde knew more than what the dragon had told her.  "The last I heard was that Cyan thought they were safe but going to get them off planet might cause more troubles than it fixes."

"Hmm."

Leia frowned in annoyance, "Is that it?  Don't tell me I know more than you do."

"It would seem like no one knows much of anything that's happening on Baf, except for those on Baf," Karrde responded.  "But Cyan may know more and just decided not to tell you—he does after all have a set of eyes planet side so to speak.  All I've been able to gather is that security around the capitol has increased and there have been a number of calls sent out on the holo-net.  Also, a number of officially sanction ships left for hyperspace a few days ago.  It's harder to find out more without detaining and interrogating people—Baf's lack of technology means there's no convenient central computers to hack.  It's either written down or not recorded at all."

"Well, it's not much, but I'll let Cyan know when I talk to him.  I've really no idea how they're going about observing the planet."

Karrde nodded in acquiesce then followed Winter as she showed him and Nawara out of Leia's office.  She patched into the holo-net, went through an Imperial channel which in tern ran through a number of relays before reaching Bairn.  She got a Chisgon woman on the comm. before she was turned over to Cyan.

"Hello, Leia, I was just going to call you," Cyan replied to her greeting, thought the cheer in his voice was undermined by the obvious exhaustion in his body.

"How are you doing, Cyan?" Leia asked, wondering if her eyes were just playing tricks or if he was shivering.

Cyan let his jaw drop in a grin.  "I am doing as well as can be expected.  How goes the good fight?"

"That's part of the reason why I called.  We need to infiltrate Cragon's Pride," Leia told him.

Cyan's mouth snapped shut and then he commented, "Don't ask for much, do you?  Would you like to come along and watch us collapse the ventilation system again?  I'm sure it's quite the show."

Leia laughed and shook her head.  "No, though maybe another time.  We need to find some concrete evidence on Blacksky's surgery.  Once we have that we can get a court injunction for a DNA test."

"Ah, of course.  But how are we to get on board Cragon's Pride undetected?  I imagine they've stepped up their security after out last visit," Cyan commented dryly.

Leia explained Nawara's suggestion and Cyan agreed that it had merit.  She added, "Karrde said he would provide a slicer."

Cyan thought for a moment then shook his head, "No, that's ok, we've got one."

"You do?" Leia asked.  "Where'd you dig him up?"

Cyan grinned, "Oh, just someone we've had hanging around.  Probably thought we'd forgotten him by now.  Don't worry, if there's a recording on that ship, we'll find it."

"Is Mirax still there?"

"Yes," Cyan confirmed.  "And she'll undoubtedly be involved, though maybe this time we'll give her a better disguise."

Leia smiled and nodded, Cyan's confidant tone bolstering her spirits—though not entirely.  "How's Luke doing?  Is he any better?"

Cyan hitched for just a moment before sighing in tired worry.  "He's not better, but he's not worse, either.  He's sleeping now and starting to heel physically."

"Why haven't you tried to rescue them?  The Baf authorities must have stopped looking for them by now and they couldn't possibly have the technology to stop a ship full of Jedi," Leia said.

"We didn't at first because it would have been a slaughter.  Now we don't know where to look," Cyan explained.  "Luke's unconscious and his sense in the Force is strange and hard to get a hold of.  It could take me months of tracking to find him right now.  I feel that we have time to act on something else.  Helping Corran will mean one less thing for Luke to worry about when he wakes up."

"What about you?" Leia asked, looking at the dragon closely.  "You're not well yourself."

"I'll be fine," Cyan said firmly.  "The more I sit around doing nothing but worry the stronger whatever it is inside me gets.  There's nothing worse than sitting around waiting for something to happen—this will be good for everyone on Bairn.  Moral is starting to drop.  Planning and executing this will give everyone something to do and it doesn't necessarily mean abandoning Baf.  I don't imagine this mission will take long and it would be better if Bairn stayed here.  If the Cragon have any idea where we are, a sudden departure could put them on the alert."

Leia compressed her lips and then nodded.  "I guess you're right.  But tell those who are left behind to stay on their guard, Karrde said security has been upped at the capitol and they've been talking to someone off-world."

"We've noticed some traffic leaving the planet and a few sub-space calls, but thanks for the warning about the security.  Well, you handle the political crap and we'll handle the only slightly more dirty work.  See you soon, Leia and may the Force be with you."

Leia smiled and repeated, "May the Force be with you."  She shut down the communicator and sank back in her chair. 

Winter quietly re-entered the office and asked, "Is everything alright?"

"No," Leia murmured, "and I think things are about to get much, much worse."

*          *          *

"Oh, that?" Mirax remarked when the deck officer inquired about Cyan.  "It's just a dumb animal, sir, but it sure is good at luggin' stuff."  When the problem of disguising Cyan had arisen, Mirax was the only person willing to suggest pack animal.  As a general rule Cyan took exception to anyone describing him as such, but Mirax made a convincing argument and eventually he relented.  They first covered his scales with a black, gooey body paint, which not only disguised the fact that he even had scales, but also stopped light from shinning through to the crystalline structures.  Then they covered him with layers of soiled sheets that made his actual size and shape indistinguishable.  A hood covered most of his head except for three holes cut for his eyes and snout.  He walked on all fours, kept his wings folded tight to his back and let his usually nobly held head droop towards the floor.  Mirax was disguised in correspondingly disreputable and dirty attire, with hair extensions and purple facial tattoos to further hide her identity.  Miko Reglia, Jaina and Anakin Solo were disguised in a similar vein, though the sixth and final member of their party had forgone the facial tattoos.

"Fasha!  What did I tell you 'bout talkin'?  'Specially ta officers an' other educated folk?  Now shuts yer mouth sos ye don't hurt yerself, and get that slobberin' mangy beast of yours movin' sos we can unload the cargo," Deacon snarled in the rough slur they'd all agreed on.

"Yes, sir," Mirax replied, suitably cowed.  She kicked Cyan in the side and brought her switch down on his haunches.  He was so covered in material that he barely felt a thing—but he shot Mirax a reproachful glance anyways.  "Geet," she ordered, almost enjoying herself, "c'mon, geet!"

Cyan lumbered down the ramp, pulling a laden hover-barge behind him.  Mirax had managed to scrounge some of the goods the Cragon were looking for in fairly short order, but had burned a number of favours in doing so.  Before they left Bairn for the Courvos sector where Cragon's Pride was stationed, Jaina suggested putting some sort of tracking device in the cargo but Cyan had rejected the idea.  If the device was found while they were still on board there would be trouble—besides, a ship of Cragon's Pride's size and stature was not difficult to find.

"I'll need to see a copy of your cargo manifesto and your authorization papers," the deck officer said briskly, ignoring Mirax and Cyan.

Deacon bobbed his head and snapped his fingers in a failed attempt to look commanding.  Anakin tried to scurry forward but tripped on his robe, recovered with some difficulty, then shoved the cards in Deacon's hand, panting from the effort.  Mirax wiped her nose on her sleeve to hide her grin.  Deacon handed the cards to the Cragon officer with considerably more decorum.  "There ya go, sir.  Everything should be in order, sir."

The deck officer glared at them for a second before sliding the data cards into a data pad and muttering something in Chiss that sounded decidedly impolite.  "Everything seems to be in order.  Unload our cargo here and then go to section G17 to pick-up your payment.  Bring your…hover-barge with you.  Here is a map of the route you are to take.  Deviate from that route without permission from one of our personnel and you will be shot."

"Right-e-o, yes, sir-y, will do, sir, thank you, sir," Deacon said briskly, taking the proffered data card and hurrying Anakin up the ramp and smacking him up the back of the head.  Once back in the relative safety of the ship Deacon tossed Anakin a utility belt and said, "Sorry about the whack.  The tripping was a nice touch, though."

"Yeah, next time I'll try and do it on purpose," Anakin muttered.

"Don't worry about it.  I'm very well acquainted with your uncle and I've had some experience with your dad—this is definitely in your blood.  I'm sure it'll start coming naturally any second now," Deacon reassured him.  They went back down the ramp and helped unload the hover-barge while Cyan stomped and snorted and sweated under the many layers of material.  The heat he was feeling reminded him of the heat still being felt by his fevered padmiri.  It made Cyan antsy and impatient for the others to offload the hover-barge so they could get on with the mission.

"All done, Cap," Jaina called as Miko dropped the last crate to the floor with a thud.

"All right ladies and lesser swine, let's pickup our poodoo," Deacon yelled, provoking Mirax to whack Cyan with her switch again and hoot and holler until he picked up a respectable pace.

As they wondered down the wide service corridors Mirax strode jauntily up to Cyan's head and stroked it with rough affection as she whispered in his ear, "How are you doing?"

"I am very, very hot," he rumbled gently.  "We should not waste any time."

Mirax gave him an abbreviated nod and snarled at Anakin not to fall behind.  They reached section G17 and began reloading the hover-barge.  The room was circular in shape and surrounded in thick hull plating except for two entranceways set perpendicular to one another.  The ceiling seemed oddly low, almost to the point where Cyan could stand on his hind legs, stretch up and touch his head and tail to the ceiling at the same time.  The idea was to locate a terminal with access to the main computer.  Deacon would slice into the medical database while the rest created a diversion and disabled any security devices that could give them away.  Cyan spotted the terminal first but there was a problem.  Not only was the terminal located in the hallway just outside they're designated area, but a camera was pointed right at it.  The only boon Cyan could see was that the camera was located in the room, so accessing it wouldn't be difficult, but more difficult to hide the effort.

Cyan glanced at a guard standing at the same entrance they had used.  Their antics since boarding Cragon's Pride had managed to put them beneath the suspicion of the Cragon officers, but it probably wouldn't take much to change that.  It might come to them holding off the Cragon while Deacon sliced the computer, and then fight their way back to their ship.

The thought of a firefight just reminded Cyan of how warm he was and he shook in an attempt to create a breeze beneath the layers of material.  The sudden movement seemed to shake the heat in his blood straight to his head.  He stumbled with the abrupt rush of heat and then fell to the floor.  His tail whipped out behind him, knocking cargo off of the already tilting hover-barge then continuing in the air until it struck the camera.  Cyan wasn't sure but he thought he heard a great deal yelling and caught a glimpse of Deacon making a dash for the terminal.  The others were creating enough noise to make up for Deacon's absence.  The officer at the entrance backed away, weary of getting in the way of Cyan's still slashing tail.  Cyan thought of pretending that he could not net up but soon realized that getting up really was a problem.  He tripped on his robes and knocked one or two of the others to the floor with him.  The hot flashes refused to dissipate and his balance continued to elude him.  His sense of balance was usually very fine, being a necessary component of flight, and loosing it was frightening.  He bit down on his panic and resisted the urge to rip the material from his back.

Eventually the officer got fed up with their bumbling attempts to help Cyan to his feet—more because his senior officer was approaching than because he wanted to hurry them along or felt sorry for Cyan.  He shouted at them to hurry up or they would be sent off of the ship without their payment.  Mirax glanced over at Deacon but he wasn't even close to being finished.  She leaned close to Cyan's head as if to jerk on his horn and whispered harshly, "We need something big, Cyan, or we're screwed."

Cyan glanced up, shook his head to clear it, and then snarled.  He pushed his tired body to his feet and bowled Mirax onto her back in the process.  He reared up and smacked his head on the ceiling.  He bucked and snapped the harness that attached him to the hover-barge.  He bolted and rammed his head into the wall near the officer, denting one of the hull plates.  The Cragon stumbled backwards into the hallway and struggled to draw his blaster while it was still buckled into its holster.  Cyan turned on him, the heat in his blood burning to an excruciating level.  He shrieked long and load and would have unfurled his wings were they not entangled in cloth.  The officer finally managed to free his blaster pistol from its holster and fired a shot into Cyan's shoulder.  The force of the blast knocked him back a step but failed to even scorch his scales.  He would have charged the officer except that Deacon suddenly appeared in front on him and struck a switch violently across Cyan's chest.  He yelled and struck again and again until his voice penetrated Cyan's heat clouded mind.  The dragon backed off, retaining enough presence of mind to limp and whimper as if the shot had done more than burn fabric.  They hastily jury-rigged a new harness while Deacon apologized repeatedly to the officer, assuring him that this sort of thing had never happened before and if it ever happened again they would be sure to put the beast down.  They reloaded the hover-barge and Cyan limped meekly back to the ship, only stumbling occasionally.  They reached the ship, waited for their clearance, and then took off without further incident.

As soon as they were clear of Cragon's Pride Cyan began to violently rip off the material, almost tripping himself again in the process.  When he was finally free he collapsed on the cool deck, panting.  He tried to figure out what had happened—that was more than just heat exhaustion.  If Deacon hadn't jumped in the way, Cyan wasn't sure if he would have stopped.  For whatever reason, he had wanted the officer dead.

"Cyan?  Are you all right?" Mirax asked, noticing his obvious distress.

Cyan shook his head, still a little bewildered.  "I am very hot."

"I noticed," Mirax commented, sending him a small smile.  "I'll get some water, and Jaina, see if you can find the solvent so we can clean this goo off—his pores must be so clogged his body feels like it's suffocating."

"Right," Jaina said, heading towards the front of the ship.  Mirax and Anakin returned first, carrying a storage container filled to the brim with cool but not frigid water.  Cyan drank thankfully.

"Better?" Mirax asked when he had all but drained the crate in one gulp.

Cyan nodded slowly though the water in his stomach made him feel a little nauseous.  It was still a step up from how he had felt on Cragon's Pride.  "Did we get the recording?"

"I'm not sure," Mirax replied, "Deacon got something, but I don't know what it was."

Cyan stood up again, tired as he was, and waved Jaina off when she arrived with the solvent.  "That can wait for the hyperspace trip.  Let's see what Deacon got."  He lumbered on all fours to the small cockpit of the YT-1200 they had borrowed.  He was too big to fit inside so he waited with his head poked through the doorway while everyone else entered ahead of him.  Deacon sat in the co-pilot seat while Miko steered the ship deftly to one of the few exit vectors from the Courvos sector.  "Deacon, can we see what you pulled?"

"Yup," Deacon said, slipping from his chair and over to a monitor set in the wall behind his chair.  He drew a data card from his pocket and inserted it into the ship's computer.  "I had just enough time to slice into the restricted medical files and pulled everything I could fine on Corran.  There's no mention of Blacksky in the medical files, but I found someone called 'Recipient #1' who was listed as a female Duros."

"I'm sure we can assume it's the Councilor we've come to know and love," Mirax remarked darkly.

Deacon nodded, "That's why I pulled everything I could on her.  The files on Corran and Recipient #1 are linked to each other in a number of places.  Here's a holo-feed titled 'Operation' in Corran's folder.  It might be the one we want."

"Play it," Cyan said.  He glanced at Mirax and said kindly, remembering himself,  "Sorry, Mirax, but this might be disturbing for you.  You can leave if you want."

She shook her head, "I'll be fine."

The holo began, showing a sterile room with an unconscious human lying on a metal slab—it was Corran.  When a surgeon can onscreen carrying a pair of surgical laser cutters Cyan ordered Deacon to skip forward.  They saw in fast-forward the intricate operation as the doctor removed part of Corran's brain.  Leaving a lesser physician to close the cut, the original doctor took the brain tissue away.

"That's it?" Mirax demanded, her voice rough with self-control.  "That's all we have?"

"Mirax, they performed that operation mere hours, maybe less, after capturing Corran.  Of course there wouldn't be time for Blacksky to arrive at the same time," Jaina pointed out gently, putting her arm around Mirax's shoulders.

"It's ok, there's a file with the same name in Recipient #1's folder.  This could be what we're looking for," Deacon said.  The holo started, once again in 2D and sure enough there was a Duros woman lying on the operation table.

"Freeze it and zoom in on her face, we have to be sure," Cyan said.

"Right," Deacon muttered, complying with Cyan's order.  He zoomed in and then cleared up the image revealing Blacksky's anaesthetized face.  They watched the holo long enough to determine that it was the same operation that had been performed on Corran, then Cyan order the holo stopped.

"Miko," he said, turning to the Jedi, and making a decision, "set a course for Courscant."

Chapter XIV

Quarrcta di Donna was not pleased.  The leader of the Cragon looked at the officer standing before him who somehow managed to keep from trembling though he must have guessed his fate.  Quarrcta readily admitted that the Cragon were a much more hotheaded people than the Chiss, but of course did not consider it the weakness that the other Chiss did.  The fire of their hatred for the Jedi burned in their blood and inspired them to fight for their lives and rightful place in the universe.  Other times that fire simply made Quarrcta want to lash out blindly at those who would stand in his path—inadvertently or not.

"Explain to me how you missed someone operating a terminal right in front of you," Quarrcta requested, his red eyes glinting with suppressed anger.

"I—I—I was distracted—" the officer stuttered.  Then, seeming to realize the idiot he sounded, he straightened his posture and cleared his throat before continuing in a raged but firmer voice, "They had a beast with them, it went berserk.  It was rather large and there was a big commotion.  One of them could have slipped off when this happened.  I do remember that the beast hit the surveillance camera during its struggles."

Quarrcta leaned forward in his command chair.  He preferred to dress officers down on the bridge or in other public locations so the other personnel were reminded of their proper station.  "Why didn't you just shoot the beast?"

"I—I did, it didn't seem to notice until the one in charge managed to beat it back into submission," the officer replied.

Quarrcta sat back in his chair, pondering.  The officer was not lying, his story fit with accounts reported by those nearby when the incident occurred—nor was the story any different than the one the officer filed in his daily report.  Quarrcata was interested in the beast—deck officers were told to keep their blasters on kill when dealing with traders to discourage any miss-behaviour on their ship.  He motioned for another officer to approach.  "Go to those who are analysing the sound from the surveillance camera and tell them to compare it with our recordings of the Blue."  The officer bowed respectively and left on his errand.  Quarrcta turned back to the first officer in contemplative silence.  While most of the others officers on the ship would have reacted similarly, disciplining him would at least encourage the others to improve themselves.

The officer stood before him at ridged attention, waiting for his punishment.  He stared straight ahead, ignoring to the best of his ability the penetrating eyes of his superior.  He felt a trickle in his throat and tried to swallow imperceptibly, then realized he could not swallow.  The muscles in his throat tightened until he could not breath.  He struggled, his fist clenched, trying desperately to remain at attention and force air into his lungs.  His face had turned from blue to a dark purple before he lost a bit of his composure and began to make what verbal indications he could of his present condition.  Quarrcta continued to stare at him dispassionately yet unblinkingly.  His skin was almost completely purple before his collapsed, his arms still held rigidly to his sides.

Quarrcta smiled faintly, "Well, at least he learnt discipline in the end.  Send our condolences to his family, make up something slightly less disgraceful—respect at the face of death is an admirable trait."  This is how he would teach his crew, just how much was needed, even as they died in the inevitable confrontation to come.  Quarrcta's smile broadened as they dragged the officer's body from the bridge to be shipped back to the homeworld.  His powers were still weak compared to the Jedi, even that vile Duros they had used as the first test subject seemed to have more control than him.  But soon—

His line of thought was broken by a sudden stabbing pain that lanced through his skull.  Quarrcta snarled and clutched at his temples, momentarily blinded by a vision of swirling stones.  When his sight cleared the whole of the bridge had stopped their work and his aid was tentatively touching his shoulder.

"Elder?  Do you need medical attention?" the aid asked as Quarrcta brushed past him.

"Get my first officer back from his break," Quarrcta ordered through teeth clenched against the residual pain.  He left the bridge and headed to Cragon's Pride's ample Sick Bay.  He walked past the wounded and the dead body of the officer he had just killed.  He walked until he came to the back office of their chief medical officer in the Cragon Empire, a room that only that doctor and Quarrcta himself had access too.

"Montranallo'tarius!" Quarrcta bellowed as he swept into the office, so angered by the pain splitting his skull that he used the doctor's full name.  Montranallo'tarius, casually known as Allotar to the Cragon, was born of Chisgon parents.  Sickened by what he saw as hypocrisy on their part, he betrayed them to the Cragon on invented accusations of espionage and enrolled himself in the Cragon's Military School of Medical Science.  The school's true purpose, to discover the secretes of the Jedi's power, was well known to any who demonstrated themselves as holding true to Creeta di Donna's dreams.

"Yes, Elder?" Allotar asked mildly, glancing up from his work.

Quarrcta ground his teeth, restraining himself from drawing his blaster.  Allotar was the first to discover the specific area of the brain used by most species to process the Force, including humans and Chiss.  He was also the first to develop a means of stimulating that area of the brain with the possible result of eliminating the need for transplants.  Without Allotar, Quarrcta was made repeatedly aware on each of their meetings, the reclamation of the Force back to the Cragon would fail.

"There is something wrong," Quarrcta growled, restricting his anger to the gnashings of his teeth.  "I used the Force and now it hurts.  Fix it."

Allotar sighed, irritated by the interruption.  "If you would let me inform some of the other senior staff as to your treatment, then I would not be interrupted from my experiments every five minutes by your complaining.  I am a researcher," Allotar informed Quarrcta dispassionately as he roughly pushed the Elder's head forward and placed a scanner on his neck, "not a general practitioner."

"Consider it a concession that no one would grasp your theorems," Quarrcta replied sarcastically, wincing.

"Hardly a concern of yours," Allotar remarked, removing the scanner and shrugging at the results.  "About what I expected.  I am making severe alterations to your brain chemistry, side effects are to be expected."

Quarrcta sat in the chair facing Allotar's table, rubbing his temple in a reproachful manor.  "Can't you make it stop?"

"If I cease the treatment now, it will go away within a few months," Allotar replied.  Quarrcta's eyes blazed a startling shade of red at the suggestion so Allotar amended his phrase, if only to keep the Elder from exploding into another tirade, "Otherwise all I can do is treat the symptoms and we hope that your body adjusts to the changes.  Jedi have a remarkable ability to withstand pain, it is entirely possible that they must endure what you are feeling."

"Blacksky has not sent any complaints and she would not miss so easy an opportunity to shoot off—she is a politician in a democracy, after all."

Allotar shrugged.  "That simply proves my initial explanation.  If you would get me more samples, than I would be able to provide a better diagnosis—or even a better serum."

"If Jedi were so easily caught, they would not be considered such a threat to us," Quarrcta replied as Allotar pressed a hypodermic needle to his neck.  The pain lessoned to a dull ache.

Allotar shrugged, "That is your area, not mine.  I simply dissect.  The body of the Jedi retrieved on Undally has told me all it will, and I barely had a chance to look at the Jedi used for the transplant.  The few Force sensitive children we'd identified have been taken from us, and can't tell us what a fully trained Jedis is like.  I need live specimens.  I need to see them using the Force, what they need to maintain it, and you need to learn how to use it.  I can continue to administer this treatment and you can continue to rely on old teachings of how the Force works, but it means that these Jedi have twenty five thousand years of training on you, which will not be enough when the Moment comes.  Remember that."

It was precisely that which was occupying Quarrcta's mind later that day when he sat in his ready room reviewing reports on the ships performance.  The door chimed and an ensign entered.

"Yes?" Quarrcta asked, unusually subdued.  He had been force to take another hypo after six hours and the drugs made him drowsy.

"I have the analysis on the sound patterns from the group of slicers, Elder," the ensign replied, at attention, his eyes focused somewhere above Quarrcta's head.

"Proceed."

"Yes, Elder.  The sound patterns of the beast of burden match those of the Blue.  None of the other persons in that group match any of the vocal recordings that are on file.  The slicer used pre-written code to slice into the information database and acquire information on the Jedi Corran Horn's operation and Recipient #1.  Nothing else was taken."

Quarrcta was silent for a moment before he nodded in acceptance.  "Leave the report with me.  You are dismissed."

The ensign placed a datacard on Quarrcta's desk, delivered a crisp salute, turned smartly on his heel and exited.  Quarrcta smiled a little smugly.  Order always improved after a carefully implemented execution.

Quarrcta picked up the datacard and scanned thoughtfully through the more detailed version of what the ensign had just informed him.  One of the participants was listed almost positively as Mirax Terrick Horn.  The other female and the two younger males were tentatively identified as the Solo children (all three?) while the forth, the one suspected of doing the actual slicing, was unidentifiable.  Yet Skywalker was not there, nor was his wife.  If the report he had received from Delquii Prime were true…

The Blue was beginning to act independently, that was more alarming than anything.  Quarrcta searched through the historical records and found the description of the Hall of the Jedi, still standing supposedly on the old Chiss homeworld.  The inscriptions on the walls were described, but not always in as much detail as Quarrcta would like.  He was sure he knew which panel applied to him in his time, but the only way for him to confirm it would be to go there himself—

No, that certainly would not happen.  No self-respective Cragon could ever set foot upon that world, even a Chiss would be hard pressed to do it.  He would simply have to accept the information he had, dated as it was.  If the Blue was acting so independently, then Skywalker was on his own journey, and the Moment was nigh.

One thing at a time, though, for the Moment was at least not now.  What to do about the current situation…Blacksky was as good as gone—with this information the Jedi would not hesitate to take whatever action necessary to reclaim Horn's ability to use the Force.  Yet they are law abiding—Blacksky had stated repeatedly that if they were not they simply would have taken over the Council and forced them to take action against the Cragon.  Instead they separate from their power bases and set out on their own.  Admittedly with not so concealed help from the Empire, but they had thus far remained relatively passive.  The New Republic would not hand over Blacksky without a trial, therefore there would have to be some Jedi present…

Quarrcta smiled once more and began to write a message to the agent in charge of monitoring Blacksky, Saellah, to make preparations.  Through their own matriculations the Jedi had provided Quarrcta a plan to further weaken them, and assuage Allotar's need for live specimens.

"Sir!" said the first officer, stepping abruptly into Quarrcta's office, "I apologize for disturbing you but we just received intelligence from Baf—"

Chapter XV

Han scraped the last bit of grunge from one of Artoo's many grooves and crevices and mopped his perspiring forehead with his cleaning rag.  He succeeded in temporarily drying his skin, but getting his face even dirtier than the rag. Artoo's travel through the Baf jungle had not been easy, and his tumble into a swamp on the way to this village had not helped much either.  When it became apparent that Luke would not be able to fight off the infection himself, Han got Artoo to locate the nearest source of power that wasn't the capital.  They eventually came to this village, the tiny thatch homes clustered around an ancient temple that reminded Han vaguely of the temples on Yavin.  The inhabitants had helped them, used to receiving those who fled from the capital into the jungle, seeing them as a source of temporary revenue.  They were then housed in the red temple, no longer a site of worship that it might once have been, but the home of the village officials.

"Any contact from Bairn?" Han asked.  Artoo moaned a negative and Han sighed.  The ship had gone silent, which was odd.  Han felt sure that Cyan would have come down to the surface as soon as it was safe.  Perhaps something was happening above that kept him from returning.  Han hoped it was important.

He and Artoo sat outside of the room they had given to Luke, while Mara patiently sat at his side.  Ever since the second evening in the cave when he found her chasing after Luke she had become more moody.  The innocence that had at first disarmed them so effectively upon finding her on Delquii Prime was gone, now replaced the a growing knowledge of her own abilities.  And worry.  Han could only convince her to leave Luke alone when he would promise to stay in her place.  Even when she went out Han would worry—it was not often that a woman of Mara's unique beauty found her way into this small village.  The leader of the village seemed to pay extra attention to her.  Han turned to the droid.

"As soon as Luke wakes up and is able to walk, we're calling for Bairn and getting off this mud ball," Han said firmly.  Artoo twittered agreement.

In the next room Mara shook her head, overhearing Han's comment.  She heard him walk off, probably to go get more of that tangy substance the locals used as a stimulant.  It was positively addictive.

She had dozed off for the morning and now reached forward to check Luke's fever.  She did not sleep well at night, more than a little afraid that someone unwanted would come in.  Artoo always kept silent vigilance at his master's door but Mara wasn't willing to trust their lives to a droid, remarkable though he might be.  She touched Luke's forehead and then settled back in her chair.  His skin was moist, but no more than her's in the humid Baf air.  She no longer felt the raging fire she had experienced first hand in the Hall of the Jedi.  She let her hand trail down to his cheek, wishing that he would wake up.  Then, as if he had heard her silent wish, Luke stirred beneath her touch.  He reached up and took her hand in his, his eyes blinking against the sunlight streaming through the window.  He looked at her, his eyes sombre and unusually bright.

"Hi," Mara said softly.  "How do you feel?"

"Better," Luke whispered, letting go of her hand.  "How long?"

Mara hitched for a moment before answering, "Two weeks.  You were very near gone."

Luke frowned and then turned looked at the ceiling.  "Where are we?"

"A village.  You needed medical aid and we couldn't raise Bairn, so we came here.  They don't know who we are, so we should be all right," Mara replied quickly.

Luke glanced back at her, frowning again. "But…?"

"The mayor, or whatever they call him, seems to like me," Mara told him sardonically.  "He doesn't seem to like you, though.  You were pretty out of it when we brought you in and when you first saw him you started shouting some nasty names."

"I only remember some odd dreams," Luke murmured, his voice strengthening slightly with renewed use.  He seemed to be thinking about those dreams for a second before he came back to himself.  "I should probably eat something.  I feel hungry…though, a little sick too."

"Han should be back soon, he usually brings me something," Mara replied.

Luke nodded and then closed his eyes, attempting to sort through his clouded memories.  Eventually he felt a growing sense of concern in Mara so he opened his eyes again.  "What?  Is something wrong."

"No, I just thought you'd lost consciousness again.  It happened so abruptly before," Mara said, relaxing.  "How…how much do you remember."

He looked away from her again and replied evenly, "Flashes, visions, dreams.  Nothing real, I think."

"Oh," Mara responded, then with sudden annoyance at herself for avoiding the question she'd wanted to ask for two weeks, "but do you remember—"

"Luke!" Han exclaimed, rushing in.  "You're awake!  How do you feel?"

"Tired," Luke replied, sounding, to Mara's ears anyway, a little relieved.  "More tired than someone who just had a two week nap should feel."

"I'll get some food," Mara muttered, seeing that Han had only brought the stimulant.  She walked into the hall briskly, acknowledging Artoo's excited twitter with a quick jerk towards the door.  "He's awake if you want to see him."  Artoo started forward but paused before entering the room and made a questioning whistle.  "I'm getting him some food, he's hungry.  Do you want to come?"  Artoo made an acquiescing beep and trundled after her.

She walked down the hall with it's red stone stained orangey-gold by the sun that shined through the broad windows.  The temple was very open and she felt sure that it was very old.  No one she spoke to seemed to know who made it.  She went into the kitchen and found the usual group of housewives cutting vegetables for supper.

"Hello!" Mara said cheerfully and then stopped short.  One of the older women shook her head imperceptibly but it was too late, the mayor Ragq had walked in through the other door.

"Hello, Mara," Ragq said, his face splitting in a toothy smile.  "I was just coming to see how your friend was doing."

Mara plastered a smile on her face and edged toward the stove.  "It just so happens that he woke up, and is naturally hungry.  I'll just grab him something."

"Don't take that soup, dear, he needs something with a little more substance," Ragq insisted, sidling over to the stove and grabbing Mara's hand away from the pot.  "The ladies were just getting ready to dress a deer I just killed—"

"That's great, but he said he felt a little sick.  Look, here's some broth—perfect compromise!  I'll just take that," Mara said, deftly breaking his grip and snagging the pot.  Ragq moved to help but suddenly Artoo was in between them and blatted in annoyance when Ragq ran into him.  "Hmm, he really is too short, sometimes, isn't he?" Mara chimed as she scurried out of the room.  The man was taking far to many liberties with her personal space lately.  Fortunately, Artoo seemed to take is as a personal offence.

Back in Luke's room, Han waited until Mara was gone and then sat in her place.  "Did something happen before I came in?"

"No," Luke whispered, the cleared his throat.  "Han, I didn't do anything…bad while I had that fever, did I?"

"Not that I saw.  Though Mara did seem to be distraught after you ran out of the cave and we had to chase you down.  I thought she was just concerned, but the more I think on it the more I think you might have said something," Han replied.  "She's been a little off since the incident."

"I feel…the old Mara is getting restless playing the damsel in distress," Luke murmured, his eyes on the door Mara had disappeared through.

"What?"

Luke turned back to Han and shook his head at his friend's shocked expression.  "Never mind.  Tell me about this mayor.  Is he behaving in any way that I should be concerned about?"

"Oh, him?  Well, I don't think it's anything she can't handle by herself for now," Han said dismissively, though Luke could sense his underlying concern.  His use of the Force was still a little foggy, but sufficient enough that he could read his friend.  Han saw that Luke was not convinced by his blithe tone.  "I still don't want to stick around for things to get worse."

"True," Luke agreed, lying back.  He could remember his dreams of Jedis as clearly as if they had happened the day before.  His recollection of what he had done was the exact opposite.  He did however have a vague memory of seeing the Mother Dragon, and then being pushed…

"I'm back!" Mara exclaimed, looking cheery as she held up the tray of food triumphantly.  Yet she retained an atmosphere of annoyance that Luke generally associated with Mara attempting not to overreact to an irritant.  "They gave me some meaty tray at first, I thought that might make you sick so I found some broth."

Luke nodded and tried to push his body upright enough to eat and found to his shock that his arms were too weak.  "Oh!"

"I told you, you were out for a long time," Mara chided, pushing the tray on Han and helping him up.  Now she definitely seemed to be dodging something.  "Can you eat?"

"That, I think, I can still manage," Luke replied, forcing his voice to come out a little stronger.  Fretful and overprotective Mara was something he would never get used to.

Mara sat on the edge of the bed as Luke slowly ate, her eyes downcast while his eyes remained on her.  Luke finished his soup and then gestured for Han to take it away.  "Could you leave me alone with Mara for a bit, Han?"

"Of course," Han said.

Once he was gone Luke turned to Mara and asked, "Did I do or say something to you when I was in the fever?"

"You said and did a lot of things when you were in the fever," Mara commented, slipping back into her chair.  "You were out of you mind."

"What did I say?"

Mara finally met his gaze again and decided that maybe he really didn't remember.  "You shouted some names, Kassandra, Fidella, Mother.  Lately you've been calling for Cyan.  We thought he might be in trouble, especially since we haven't been able to contact the ship."

Luke tried to stretch out with the Force but found his sphere of awareness was limited, possible only to this village.  "I don't know, he's too far away for me to feel his thoughts.  I only know the bond is still there."

"Well, that something," Mara replied evenly.

Luke glanced at her  and realized for the first time that her shirt had been ripped.  "Mara?  What happened to your shirt?"

"What?  Oh, it got torn, but a woman who lives down the way from here helped me fix it," Mara replied, her blithe tone a mirror image of Han's earlier flippant explanation.

"Mara, did that mayor—"

"What?" Mara asked when Luke trailed off suggestively.  "Oh! No!  No, Luke, I haven't let him touch me.  I'd hit him if he tried and take my chances with the jungle."

Luke frowned, feeling as though she wasn't telling him something.  "Mara, if he hurt you in any way, tell me—"

"He hasn't done anything to me, Luke, I just, you know, caught on a tree—" she stopped when she realized that he wasn't convinced at all.  "Just—don't worry about it, alright?  You were feverish and out of your mind—"

"What?!  Mara, did I—"

"It's fine, ok, I'm not even sure if you knew it was me.  It's not as if anything really happened.  You ran off," Mara finished lamely, the shocked expression on his face making her regret her wish to know if he had realized what he was doing.

"Mara, I didn't—I might remember, but—what did I do, exactly?" Luke demanded, his concern giving him the strength to sit a little taller and look at her in the eye.

"You know what, let's just forget it.  I mean, sometimes it's better to not know.  Same reason you haven't tried explaining everything I used to know about the Force to me.  It'll confuse the issue," Mara reply, rising from her chair and moving towards the door.  "You're probably tired, and I don't want to strain you, you could relapse and then we'd be right were we started—"

"Mara!" Luke cried as she passed through the doorway.

"Don't worry, ok?  I'll tell you when you're better," she promised, fleeing the scene.

*          *          *

"Don't you think my being here is a little premature?" Corran asked, sitting uncomfortably on Leia's couch.  Olive lounged on the floor in front of him, in case he decided to get up.  "Blacksky's case only starts today."

"She can try and draw it out, Corran, but we have enough evidence that I should be able to truncate the proceeds by quite a bit," Nawara Ven assured him.  He had not seen much of his former wing mate since he lost his sight, and the change was startling.  Where before would have sat a confident, sometimes a little arrogant but always competent pilot and Jedi, now sat a man with no clear place who unconsciously plucked at the fabric of his pants.  It was there that Nawara silently vowed to do whatever was necessary to restore Corran to his former state, even if it got him kicked out of the New Republic with the rest of the Jedi.

Leia gently touched his arm from her seat to his left.  "It will be over quickly, and we will see what we can do about fixing you up.  Besides, we might need you as a witness."

"The court case is nearly irrelevant," Cyan remarked, his tail lashing back in forth.  "If she somehow wins, which everyone here sincerely seems to doubt even beyond the usual group optimism, I have no qualms about taking back what is yours.  If she looses, I wouldn't be surprised if the Cragon have some sort of escape route planed just to keep you from regaining your abilities.  Either way, I will make sure Blacksky comes with us."

"You're being rather fatalistic, Cyan.  Besides, there is another possibility.  If Blacksky looses and the Cragon don't decide to help her, she may take matters into her own hands.  I've met her husband, I wouldn't put it past her to be that fanatic," Mirax commented, seated to Corran's right.

"The Cragon could just shoot her themselves," Leia added.  She looked pointedly a Karrde.  "Perhaps some effort should be made to locate any agents they might have here."

"Oh, they have several, but locating them all at any one time, especially during this trial when they will probably be extra vigilant, will be challenging," Karrde informed her.

Cyan's tail lashed particularly violently when he growled, "I will keep an eye on Blacksky.  I will capture her if necessary, I will keep her alive if necessary."

There was a moment of awkward silence after Cyan's passionate statement.  It was Olive who tentatively broke in, "Do you need my help?"

"No, you stay with Corran, he could be targeted too," Leia replied hastily.

"I do not need you help," Cyan replied on the tail of Leia's words.  "This is something I know will happen."

"Did you have a vision?" Olive asked, his voice coming across with an almost imperceptible amount of annoyance in.

Cyan glared at the green dragon, now only a hand or two shorter than him.  "No.  But it will not mater."  Olive's smaller tail echoed Cyan's earlier lashings briefly before the younger dragon turned away.  "It will be ok.  Nawara, I would like to know how you will argue our case, even if I don't think it will matter greatly in the end."

Chapter XVI

Over three weeks later, Olive sat with Corran and Mirax outside of the courtroom.  The proceedings were tense, yet seemed to go well for their side.  Almost too well, in fact. As the case progressed more and more of Blacksky's ties were ferreted out.  Though only one spy had been captured, he proved to be low level and only privy to the most superficial knowledge of Cragon activity on Courscant.  Still, it was enough implicate Blacksky as being linked to the Cragon Dynasty.  It was as if, Karrde had remarked at one point, the Cragon were trying to loose.

On the other hand, Blacksky was either not in on the Cragon's plans, or refused to go along with them.  Her speeches were convincing and eloquent, yet futile against the mass evidence against here.  She had even begun to overtly influence the jury in her favour, an event that nearly resulted in Cyan storming the witness stand.  His retaliation through the Force was enough to keep her from trying again.  If the trail had proven anything to Blacksky, it was that Cyan was no longer in a pacifistic mood.

The case dragged on for three full weeks until Nawara finally managed to win an injunction to have the replaced portion of Blacksky's brain undergo DNA testing.  The court had adjourned yesterday after the results were submitted as positive.  The jury had reached a verdict.  In the interim Cyan revealed that Luke was once again conscious, though his was not yet fully recovered enough to communicate to the dragon his location.

"You know, Olive, we might have to get Corran a smaller seeing aid," Mirax commented suddenly.

"What?" Olive asked, coming out of his ponderings. 

"You!  You've gotten big, almost as big as Cyan and he's got time on you.  I mean, you're tail isn't as big, but I think Cyan mention that that's characteristic of your type," Mirax qualified.

Olive bobbed his head.  "I hadn't thought about it, though I don't think I've grown much lately."

"I guess you're slowing down.  You'll be an old man like me, soon," Corran commented.

"I don't think I could ever manage being quite like you, Corn," Olive replied, then turned toward the grand hallway of the court house as Blacksky walked in with her council and a figure swathed in clothes.  Olive rumbled, sniffing the air.

"What is it?" Mirax asked, her eyes on Blacksky.

"Do you know who that is with Blacksky?  She smells funny," Olive said.

Mirax shook her head.  "I don't know, I've never seen her before."

Olive rumbled and sought Cyan out through the Force.  He found the older dragon nearby, on his way to the court with Leia and Nawara.  Olive re-shifted his position so that he would be able to rise quicker and kept his eyes on the cloaked figure.  They remained on the other side of the hall, about as far away from Olive as they could be with the councils spread around them like a force field.  In between their bodies Olive could see Blacksky and the cloaked figure having a conversation, which seemed to be changing into more of an altercation.  Every once and a while their voices rose enough for Olive to hear them over the hubbub of the growing crowd.

"…about the support I was promised…"

"…priorities sometimes change…"

"…hell happens to me…"

"…use whatever means necessary…"

"…don't need to stand for this…"

"…duty to the dynasty…"

Olive's head bobbed and he sent a more urgent request for Cyan to hurry.  The cloaked figure must have seen Olive's abrupt movement because she stopped talking for a second and met the dragon eye for eye.  Olive bellowed in surprise, his wings unfurling and his crest flattening.  Her eyes were red…

Saellah swore a particularly virulent oath in Cragon, backing away from Blacksky who was looking at the dragon with understandable fear.  Saellah's hand had remained on her blaster since entering this building, but she knew full well that it would not be effective on the dragon.  The clash could not happen here, they were not ready.  And they needed the Blue.  She turned to Blacksky, pointing her blaster at the Duros as she ordered coldly, "If you wish to live, run now.  You are our instrument still."

Blacksky turned her eyes from the dragon to Saellah, then back to the dragon who was pushing his way intently through the crowd.  "Damn you all!" Blacksky cried, shoving past her own guards and into the street.

Olive could sense Mirax jump to her feet behind him but didn't wait.  Cyan, hurry!  Blacksky is running away!

I'm coming! Cyan replied, and even through that brief exchange Olive could feel the sudden fevered exultation in the older dragon's emotions.  The hunt was now.

Olive shrieked, startling the crowd into giving him room as he tore off after Blacksky.  He hoped Mirax would take care of the Cragon but he didn't have time to stop.  Something told him that he had to catch Blacksky before Cyan did, or Corran could be lost.

Mirax watched Olive bolt after Blacksky, bewildered by the sudden turn of events.  She caught a sudden flurry of movement out of the corner of her eye and saw the Cragon aiming her blaster at Corran, who remained seated.

"Corran!" Mirax cried, yanking him out of the way just in time, but catching the blaster bolt in her side in the process.

"Mirax?!" Corran called, his eyes wide with fear and helplessness.  "Are you all right?"

Mirax had her own blaster out, scanning the panicking crowd for the Cragon.  She saw her escaping through the back door.  Mirax almost smiled, the wait was over.  "I'm ok, I just got grazed.  Stay here, sweetie, I'll be back soon."

Luke walked out onto the stone veranda that circled the upper half of the temple.  Mara stood, shielding her eyes from the setting sun.  Luke didn't bother, his eyes somehow more accustomed to the brighter light.

Time had passed since he had awoken.  He could use the Force more and more each day, and was vaguely aware that Cyan was off doing something important and could not come to him yet.  His exchanges with Mara were underlined with a distance now, a familiar distance that Luke remembered from before their marriage.  He hated it, he hated that she had become just as embittered as before.  This Mara should have lived better, but destiny is destiny.  The core cannot change.

She turned from her almost longing contemplation of the jungle and smiled absently when she saw him gazing at her.  Luke walked slowly towards her, the setting sun, though low in the sky, warming his skin.  He leaned on the same railing that she leaned against and looked at her face.  No, she had not changed, not even amnesia could mute that fiery spirit he loved.  She slowly raised an eyebrow when he didn't speak and then laughed, "What?  What do you want to say, Luke?"

"Mara, I want to tell you so many things," Luke began earnestly, feeling more like that awkward farm boy of his youth than he had in years.  "I may have made a mistake in not telling you some things before, but I wanted you to make your own decisions.  It's what the Mara…the Mara I married would have wanted."  She looked down to her left hand that he had taken in his left hand, toying with the golden ring that until now Mara was never sure why she wore and was loathe to ever take off.  "This ring 'is a symbol of our love, unbroken and shining.'  No good will ever come of us denying that.  I just…"

Mara pressed her finger to his lips to stop him.  "I kinda guessed, but that you for telling me.  I always knew…in a way at least.  Something spectacular…"

Luke smiled, feeling as through a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.  "Yes, something spectacular, something I don't think will ever end."

"But why couldn't you tell me?  Why couldn't we continue?" Mara asked, looking a little hurt.

"We weren't speaking, before you fell off of the cliff," Luke said, his eyes meeting hers.  "I didn't want to take advantage, and then I didn't know how to tell you."

"Just saying it seems to have worked," Mara said wryly.

Luke gave a half smile and replied, "I know, but now we have a problem."

"What?"

"Now we have to decide where to go from here.  You're going to get your memory back, Mara, that I know.  Whatever wall is in your mind is breaking down, day by day.  It's only a matter of time.  You've never been one to beat around the bush for long…to wait…But when you do get your memory back, I don't know where we'll stand.  I'll always be at your side, but I don't know that you'll want me there.  I—"

Mara waited for him to go on, not sure herself how to answer.  She knew what she wanted her response to be, but this old Mara, this other person who felt so alien and yet closer and closer to her, might not feel the same way.  Luke had turned to the jungle now, but his eyes were unfocused.  "Luke?"

"I'm sorry," he said, coming back a little but looking very concerned.  "But I feel…could it be?  Is it—is it Cyan…?"

Cyan climbed higher into the air, trying to see where Blacksky had run off.  Olive maintained that they were still outside, though the younger dragon was having trouble traveling through the throngs in the streets.

Finally Cyan caught a flash of green in the crowd, the sparkle of emerald scales evident even from his altitude.  He looked ahead and saw a figure fleeing, slipping past groups that were waylaying Olive.  Blacksky suddenly ducked into an open door and Cyan snarled, about to dive when movement from the street caught his attention.

Olive saw her enter the building and felt Cyan's swift approach.  With a mighty leap, he managed to land in front of the building and bolted through the door.  He saw her standing in a turbolift just as the doors closed.  He snarled and rammed the doors.  They crumpled into the shaft, though the turbolift had already risen above that floor.  The shaft was too narrow for Olive to fly, so he sunk his claws into the wall and began to climb.

The turbolift stopped eventually, and Olive was forced to spit acid onto the bottom to get through.  Blacksky was already gone, though a door leading to a set of stairs was left swinging on its hinges.  He ran as fast has he could, even dropping to all fours.  It was reckless, for this is the speed he used to ram through walls and it would be impossible to make an abrupt turn, but he had to catch Blacksky before Cyan got there.  The fire that burned in the dragon was too great, too great, and Cyan was too alone to fight it.

The stairs led to the roof and Olive leapt through the threshold.  He heard a bellow from the air and turned upwards.  But Cyan's warning came too late as burning acid lanced his side.

"No!  It's the wrong one!  Where's the Blue?" Saellah demanded from her relatively safe position in the street.  She saw what was happening through the feed from a camera mounted on a comando's hood.  There were several of them that followed Blacksky and the green dragon, meant to kill Cyan when he eventually appeared.  They had scaled the building rather than go in, knowing there was only one place left for Blacksky to run to once inside.  But they struck the wrong dragon.

Then she saw him lancing down from the sky, his shriek of rage echoing down to street level.  The camera feed turned to static.

Cyan dispatched the last of the commandos and turned to Blacksky.  She stared at their bodies, mauled by Cyan's teeth and claws, and found she could not move.  She wanted to use the Force, but the trial had taught her that her command of it was no match for the dragon.  There was a hovercar behind her, placed there for this eventuality.  All she had to do was turn and run, but somehow she knew she would not out run this dragon.

Cyan walked towards her, and his eyes reflected the blood that pooled the ground.  A growl was growing in his throat as he approached, and his ridge was flat against his neck.  Blacksky finally managed to make her legs move in a futile dash for the hovercar.  Cyan pounced, landing on her back with a satisfying snap.  Blacksky screamed, pain lanced from the middle of her spine, but no lower.  The fever burned in Cyan, burned brighter than on Cragon's Pride, as bright as the red star that threatened to consume his homeworld.  Cyan opened his jaws to bite her jugular, remembering that this is the woman that stole Corran's gift, this is the woman who kept the New Republic from helping them, this is the woman, he knew, who is infecting Leia's nightmares out of malicious glee, this is—

"There's something wrong," Luke said finally, his free hand clenching in frustration.  He could feel the heat of his dragon's fever, and it competed with the heat of the setting sun.  "There's something very wrong, but I can't tell what.  I hate not being able to feel what's happening to him."

"Cyan is strong like you, he'll be ok," Mara said reassuringly, stroking his face with her right hand, squeezing his left.

Luke looked at her, saw her quite assurance, her confidence.  He unballed his fist and used his hand to cup her face, drawing her towards him.  He meant to touch foreheads, but at the last second she tipped her face upwards and their lips met.  It was what he really wanted, and how she knew he didn't bother to guess.  He held her close and relished in their contact, so long unfelt.  She tasted like salty spice and it inflamed him.  He realized that it wasn't the sun that was making him hot, the fever came from inside.

Suddenly Olive slammed into his side.  They rolled until they were near the edge of the roof.  Cyan roughly pushed Olive off and the young dragon squawked with pain.  Only now could Cyan see the bloody gash dripping on his side.  Olive doggedly pushed his body back to a ready crouch, his crest flat with determination and regret.

"You can't kill her, Cyan, you'll kill Corran.  I can't let you do that," Olive said, moving between Cyan and the Duros.

"Get out of my way," Cyan snarled, the fever pushing any concern he might have had for Olive from his mind.  "I'll kill her if I damn well want to."  He bolted, then leapt, hoping to avoid a fight with Olive.  His real pray could get a way in the meantime.

"Cyan!" Leia cried from the doorway, just enough to distract him.  Olive jump up, their bodies slamming into each other once more.  They rolled and fought, Olive's blood smearing both their bodies and the feracrete roof.  He was eventually thrown to the very edge of the roof and Cyan ran and pounced, too blind with fever to see what he was doing.  They tumbled over the edge.  Leia screamed.

Saellah was in the doorway, watching the dragons fight.  President Organa stood to the side, unable to intervene.  The dragons disappeared over the edge, falling into one of the great ravines that reached some of the deepest levels of Corsucants depths.  Leia felt a danger at her back and turned just as Saellah pointed her blaster at Blacksky's paralysed body and fired two shots.  Leia struggled to get her lightsaber out, though it was too late.  A blaster went off and Saellah stumbled forward, then fell on her face and lay still.  Mirax stepped over her body and looked at Blacksky, tears of fury in her eyes.

 The two dragons tumbled downwards, the light from above growing dimmer.  Their wings flailed as they continued to fight, slowing their decent.  Olive tried to break free but Cyan was intent on fighting, the fever in his blood blinding him to what he was doing.  The struck a wall, crashed through a fire escape and Cyan felt his wing tear.  He screamed and struck out violently at Olive in retaliation.   Olive struggled hard to break their embrace, but only succeeded in crashing them into the opposite wall of the narrow ravine.

They continued to fall, Olive wasn't sure for how long and Cyan had stopped noticed the passage of time, only aware of the inferno inside of him.  They hit landings, outcroppings, and anything else that jutted on their way down.  Olive glimpsed the ground finally approaching and through strength of will alone managed to free his wings.  He beat the air furiously, slowing them just enough that the fall only stunned them.  They rolled for some distance, forced into each other's embrace.  Their bodies writhed and became hopelessly entangled.  Cyan reached out desperately for his padmiri for strength and encountered a fever similar to his, but filled with passion.  Luke's arousal filled Cyan suddenly and his body made an involuntary movement.

Olive felt the sudden shift in Cyan's feelings, feelings that were so strong that they penetrated the young dragon's mind and he reacted similarly to Cyan's movement.  The shock of what was happening managed to clear some of the fog from Cyan's mind.  Of course, they had never definitively found out, they just opted to call him male, but only a padmiri could tell for sure before a dragon reached sexual maturity…

Olive cried out, her body penetrated for the first time.  Cyan continued relentlessly, for the first time fully in union with his padmiri, not just swept along.

Luke felt the fever burn through him and he crushed Mara's trembling body against his.  She gasped against his mouth, running her hands through his hair and then down his face.  She felt the heat in his skin and pulled away, her eyes filled with fear.

"No!  Oh, no!  Luke—" she cried, almost crying with frustration.  "You're sick again!"

"No, it's not sickness," Luke said, shaking his head.  But in doing so he felt himself loosing his balance and he was forced to grab the ledge to stay on his feet.  He breathed hard, feeling Mara's arms encircle and support him.  "Well, maybe it is!"

Mara looked into his clouded gaze and swore, helping him to stand.  She started to lead him back to their room.  "Of course, this happens now.  Well," she added, laughing wryly, "at least I can honestly tell Regq that I'm unavailable."

"Regq…" Luke murmured, trying to remember why that name was familiar.  The palm of his left hand started to throb along with his ankles.  "Is that the name of the mayor?"

"Yes, Luke.  Oh, I suppose you haven't met him yet," Mara commented helping him to the door.

"No," Luke replied, shaking his head again.  He knew the name, but his fevered brain couldn't seem to keep up.  And Cyan was not there to hold him, such as when he had his vision on the roof of the hospital…

Mara saw his eyes suddenly widen as if he had just realized something. "What's wro—ugh!"

They both stumbled to ground when Mara fell, struck from behind.  Luke looked up and saw the same man he had seen on the rooftop, just before his vision of the crucifix.  "No, no, no!"  He struggled to rise, trying to call on the Force to give him strength but it was no use.  Regq struck him across the face and he sprawled to the ground, rolling away from Mara who was just waking from her daze.

"I don't care if you were 'unavailable'," Regq told Mara, turning her over roughly as his men restrained Luke.  "I have just made a deal that will feed my village for a year and get me what I want."  Mara looked up at him, the blow to her head still clouding her thinking.  "The Jedi's fate is now in the hands of the Cragon.  Maybe now they will stop forsaking this world."  Mara cried out, moving to strike him but Regq struck her across the face, strengthening the ringing in her ears.  Mara found she couldn't hear anything and saw them drag Luke a little ways off.  Regq grabbed her by her shirt collar and pulled her close to his face.  "Forest fever is a dangerous disease, and eating the crop that this town exports has been found to induce relapses.  I kept it from him until I saw the warrants go out for his capture.  It's hard to secure a Jedi who doesn't want to be secured."

Ragq turned from Mara to look dispassionately at Luke, who struggled to free himself though the fever infected him so strongly he could barely see.  The men shoved him down onto the red slabs of rock.  He heard Mara scream and struggled to rise but the men holding him were strong and he hadn't the physical strength to combat them.  The fever that burned his skin wreaked havoc with his mind.  He tried to use the Force but it was like sand through his fingers.  He looked up and saw Mara stumble to the ground when the shirt Regq had a hold of her by ripped.  Mara tried to crawl away but Regq shoved her back down to the rocks again.  He grabbed her head and slammed it against the ground hard enough to knock her out.  He picked her up and threw her unconscious body over his shoulder.  He turned to Luke who was staring at him with a fury that matched his dragon's.

"Take him to the capitol.  He is to be executed there as an act of goodwill towards the Cragon Empire.  They do not wish to soil themselves by stepping foot on our world to get him," Ragq said, then re-entered the temple.  He could hear the Jedi's furious scream choked off mid-sentence and Regq smiled in satisfaction.  To be turned down for that—  He saw the droid standing by Luke's former room but ignored it.  Artoo saw Mara being carried off and started hooting in alarm and rocking back and forth on his treads.  Regq took Mara to his room and lay her down on the bed, sunlight painting her red as it poured down from the skylight above them.   He considered waking her up but changed his mind.  She was strong and as soon as she completely regained her senses she could be trouble. 

He pulled his belt knife and finished cutting away her ruined shirt and moved to cut away her braw when his wrist was suddenly caught in Mara's grip.  He looked at her at first in annoyance and then in confusion.  Her eyes were not afraid or unsure.  He saw in her face someone know one in the universe had seen before.  Mara's free hand jabbed into his chin, snapping his mouth shut and knocking him off of her.  In the same moment she twisted his wrist, causing him to drop the knife.  Ragq fell to the floor and Mara called the knife to her hand.

Blacksky felt her life slipping away and cursed herself for not concentrating on figuring out how to heal.  She could hear that blasted President speaking urgently to Horn's wife and felt her face twist into a smile.  Well, she would have her revenge.  Her husband would find his own way of making a sun.

Mara kicked out, knocking Regq unconscious much more effectively than he had done to her.  The blows to her head had been harsh, and all she could hear was ringing.  But at last it was familiar, it was just what she needed.  She looked upward to the skylight, to the tiny pin-prick of light at the top.  It was like she had never stopped falling off of the cliff.  Well, it was time to arrest her fall.  She looked out the door, then at the ring on her hand.  She did not have the whole picture, but she knew that their love was still unbroken, and it shined brighter than ever.  She ran out the door.

Han arrived back from his walk, aware that some commotion was happening at the temple but unsure what.  He hurried initially out of curiosity, then began to run when he heard Artoo's urgent squealing from down a corridor.  He looked in Luke's room and found him missing, Mara as well.  He went to ask Regq if he had seen them and found him unconscious on the floor.  He glanced at the bed and saw Mara's torn shirt.  Artoo moaned helplessly then trundled after Han when he ran out of the temple to find his family.

Mara ran blindly into the jungle, chasing after the bright light, no longer shielding her eyes.  She ran until she realized that the light burned so brightly that she could no longer find where it was.  Her vision was dazzled and she blinked furiously, coming to a stop.  She was in the clearing again, were she'd had the vision of the beautiful Chiss and later found Luke's unconscious body.  The woman was there again, her face turned away from her.  She said, "I will tell you the truth, and that is that you are bound to what is in your heart.  You are bound to a family that loves the universe, and you are an inheritor of destiny."  The woman turned to her and there were tears in her eyes, "You and I are one.  We send our lovers away, into the brightness.  When we accept our role, then we will be invited to join them.  Until then, all light falls away."

The sun set and the woman was gone.  Mara stretched out in the Force and could not find another presence in the clearing, nor could she relocate Luke on this damned world.

Trillions of lightyears away two dragons copulated in a dark ally, one breaking into the other and spilling his fury and hatred into her, while the other accepted it in all her glory.  Above them a woman lay on a rooftop dying while her enemies tried desperately to keep her alive, one because she could no longer wait, the other because she was bound to the souls of the universe.  Back on Baf a brother followed a mother's trail until he found her in the clearing, beating the ground with her fist until they bled.  The progeny was dragged back into the jungle, surrounded by trees that wept for their false rebirth.