CHAPTER 2

AMETHYST

The castle was bustling with activity. Lights blazed night and day. Her father was leaving. He was going on a diplomatic mission. Amethyst was just six years old and too young to understand what diplomatic meant. She just understood that her father was leaving and her mother was unhappy because he was going to be gone for so long.

But before he left, there was to be a grand ball. It was her parents' tenth wedding anniversary. This ball was to be a celebration of the great love they shared. Even Amethyst was to be allowed to stay up for the start of the ball.

She was so excited she had been unable to sleep when Nurse had tried to get her to take a nap. But because of her excitement, she wasn't a bit tired when Nurse had dressed her in a beautiful long dress that evening. Amethyst had danced in front of the mirror as Nurse had tried to tie the long sash.

"It looks just like my eyes!" she had giggled at the purple color of the sash against the white lace gown.

"It will if you hold still," Nurse had scolded.

Nurse quickly finished getting the little girl ready just as one of her mother's ladies-in-waiting came into the nursery suite.

"Come, Princess Amethyst," Lady Jolston said taking the little girl's hand. "Your father is waiting for us."

The little girl let the Lady lead her down the main staircase. At the bottom of the stairs stood her father. With a big grin, her father took hold of her hand and bowed to her just as she had seen him do to adult ladies. She smiled back at him as he led her across the room to where her parents' thrones sat. For tonight, a little throne had been set beside theirs. Her father took her to the little throne and bowed to her again as he helped her sit down.

The lady-in-waiting came to stand beside the little girl as her father went back to the staircase. As the little girl watched, her father nodded to the orchestra and they began to play a beautiful song.

Lady Jolston bent down and whispered to Amethyst. "That is the song your father wrote for your mother when they were married. Isn't it pretty?"

The little girl smiled and nodded. She watched as her mother, looking like a goddess, slowly descended the staircase. With a big smile, her father bowed to his beautiful wife. Hand-in-hand, they went to the centre of the dance floor and began to waltz.

They danced until the tune came to an end. With a regal nod from her mother, a second song began. Now other couples joined them. To the little girl, it seemed like a dream full of beautiful colors that swirled around and around the room.

And later, she had felt like the little princess she was when her father took her in his arms and danced her around the ballroom, her feet never coming near the floor. When she could no longer keep her eyes open her father had carried her up to her bed. Amethyst dreamed that night of the pretty music and bright colors.

The next day, her father left early. He had only been gone three days when her world had come to a devastating end.

Suddenly her castle was filled with Imperial troops. Nurse took her into hiding. After a long time, Amethyst managed to sneak out to look for her mother. She had stood in a passageway looking through a tiny hole into the room where the ball had been held. Her mother was tied to her throne. Before her was a large man, dressed all in black from head to foot.

"You will tell me where the histories are hidden or you will die."

There was something about the man's voice that bothered Amethyst even more than the words. It did not sound like a human's voice. It was almost like a droid's voice but not quite.

"I will never tell you where the histories are. They are not for you and you will never see them," her mother answered defiantly.

The man grabbed her hair and pulled her face close to his. "I will see them ... I will have them ... or I will wipe out your entire family."

A strange smiled touched the woman's lips. "If you make good that threat, you will also cause the death of your own name."

With a resounding thud, the man backhanded the woman. Her head snapped back against the throne and her eyes rolled back in their sockets as she lost consciousness.

It was some time later that one of her father's soldiers found the small child still in the hidden passage, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, terrified by the horrors she had witnessed since the black clad man had first struck her mother. Clasping a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet, the soldier took her deeper into the maze of the palace until her father could return with help.

Several days later, Amethyst and her father had buried her mother's broken and abused body behind the castle, and then had gone into hiding. Her father had contacted Obi-Wan Kenobi. The Jedi Master had helped Emil find a place where he could hide with his daughter and his work.

Since the day she had seen Darth Vader kill her mother, Amethyst had hated the Dark Lord and had wanted to avenge the death of her mother and, evidently, her father. It was only after his death that Amethyst had read the histories that her parents had thought important enough to die for.

When it was her time to decide, that had been her decision also.


Her father had loved Amethyst dearly and had wanted her in hiding with him. Most of her life had been spent hidden away in the company of her father, brightened occasionally by a trip to distant friends or a visit from her godfather.

She had loved the old man and he had adored his beautiful goddaughter. On his visits, he had told her tales of the great Jedi Knights, their daring deeds and their beautiful ladies. He had told her how one day a Jedi Knight would come for her. This Knight would be the greatest Jedi of them all. She had been promised to him as a bride when she was only one day old. The amethyst pendant she wore was her engagement token.

All the long years with her father and, after his death, all her time with the rebel forces, she would often find herself gazing up at the stars above the world she inhabited at the moment. She would wonder which one of the points of light held her godfather. All her life she had known that when he wasn't with her, he was out there – somewhere – watching over her. Just as he instructed her when they were together, she knew that his absence was spent with her Jedi, preparing him.

Then she had fallen into the snare of the Empire. In its final days, she had been taken by the very man responsible for the death of both of her parents, Darth Vader. But like both of her parents before her, she had never revealed the whereabouts of the treasury of knowledge Vader and his Emperor sought. The price she had paid was steep – imprisonment, abuse, despair ... and more.

On the core planets of the galaxy, former Imperial troops still maintained a few out-of-the-way bases where they were still trying to recapture the glory of their lost empire. Even now, she remained their captive. Even now, there was a dark power who wanted her secrets.


"What does this mean?" he demanded holding up the necklace. "What does it have to do with us?"

She shook her head no and took yet another step away from him.

"You do know," he insisted. "Why does this mean so much to me? Why do I feel bonded to you?" He again closed the distance between them and stood staring down at her. "Who are you?"

"That is for you to say," she replied softly as the fog deepened and rose higher around her, covering her, it seemed to pull her away from him.

"Wait!" he ordered. "Who are you?"

"Luke!" The fog completely covered her and Luke could only make out a dim outline in the mist. "Help me!"


She didn't want to wake from the dream. It had felt so good to be held tightly in his arms. His lips had been soft and loving ... then firm and possessive.

It had been a long time since she had dreamt. And even longer since she had had a dream that had brought her comfort. But now, as she began to awaken, she could feel the cold and damp of the stones that formed her subterranean prison.

She shifted to try to get more comfortable. The pain this caused made her realize that there was no way she could be comfortable. She was sure she had at least one broken rib, her whole left side ached. The bruises on her arms, chest, and throat throbbed. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She was in pain. She was cold. She was hungry. But it was not her physical discomfort that caused her tears.

In the long time since she had last seen the night sky, she had begun to wonder if she had only dreamed about the bright shining lights that hung against the blackness. And if the stars weren't real, maybe she had only imagined her godfather. And if there was no Obi-Wan, then maybe there were no Jedi. If there was no great Knight in need of the wealth she had guarded all this time, why did she continue to allow herself to be hurt instead of simply surrendering the knowledge she had.

In the dark loneliness of her small prison cell, she was ready to yield to the despair that now flowed over her. Her parents and godfather had been dead for years. Her promised Jedi must have turned to the Dark Side or been killed. Surely he would have come for her by now if he had been able. None of her dreams could shield her any longer from the reality of her situation. And that reality was that she was alone. No family, no friends, no dreams – she could no longer even feel the Force.

TBC