Chapter 8

Luke was helping Pormfil to open what remained of the casing around the sensor station when something suddenly came over him. A wave of emotion crashed into him, so intense it threatened to engulf him. The only way he could describe the emotion was sheer terror. Luke didn't know exactly what was causing it; he just knew something was wrong.

He vaulted over the broken station and sprinted down the corridors in the direction of the sensation. He wasn't sure who was so afraid, but he knew it was coming from somewhere on the ship.

As suddenly as it began, it was over. Like waking from a bad dream, the terror was gone, leaving only a faint feeling of unease. Luke stopped short and looked around. He hadn't been paying attention to where he was running and now noticed he was in a dimly lit corridor that dead ended up ahead. He was standing in the same spot he'd been in when he'd talked to Dankin about conduit worms. Which meant Dankin's room was just up ahead. That's where the feelings of terror had been coming from. Luke took a step forward, but then stopped as he heard voices on the other side of the door to Dankin's room.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Odonnl asked quietly.

"No. I'm fine. Really. Sorry to wake you." The voice was so raw, Luke didn't recognize it at first. But it must have been Dankin.

"No need to apologize. I'm not really all that tired. I've actually slept for more than ten minutes in the last week," Odonnl replied dryly. They fell silent and Luke tried to convince himself that the being he sensed in the room was really Dankin. Instead of the good-humor and optimism that normally radiated off the smuggler, Luke felt only fear and shame.

"Well, if you won't talk about your dream, we'll talk about something else," Odonnl said. "Did you hear the Dreadnaughts lost to the Savages?"

As Luke thought back, he remembered Benji commenting that Dankin never slept. And Dankin did always seem to be awake when everyone else was sleeping. If that level of emotion was caused by a nightmare, Luke understood why Dankin didn't like to sleep. Fortunately, Luke was certain he could help. He could put mental walls in Dankin's mind, blocking off whatever memories or bad thoughts caused the dreams. Luke took a step forward, eager for the chance to put his abilities to good use.

"No."

Luke turned to see Mara standing with her arms crossed directly behind him. "I can help," Luke said quietly.

"No, you can't," Mara replied. "Don't you think it's occurred to me? Don't you think if mental blocks would help I would have done it years ago?"

Luke could tell there was no sense in arguing with Mara. She would not be persuaded. But the decision was not Mara's. Luke took another step toward Dankin's room. Mara was in front of him in an instant. She stood with her face mere inches from his and stated flatly, "Not now. Not here."

Dankin and Odonnl were still chatting about smashball. Luke could tell neither of them was particularly interested in the subject, but as they talked Dankin was starting to regain himself, to be almost recognizable.

Luke hadn't realized just how much his muscles had tensed, he'd been battle-ready moments ago. He relaxed and raised his hands to Mara, deciding that now was not the time.

"Come with me," Mara said. She walked away and he followed. She led him to her private quarters. She gestured for him to sit on a small couch and then pulled a chair away from her desk and took a seat facing him.

"You will not enter his mind without his permission."

"Of course," Luke replied. "I would never do that. But I can help him, I'm sure of it. Who wouldn't want help if it meant they could sleep soundly for perhaps the first time in their life?"

"Dankin, that's who. He was traumatized as a child. That's all I know. That's all anyone knows. Because he won't talk about it. He won't spread his pain to others."

"But I'm offering—"

"But nothing. I won't let you bully him into something he doesn't want just because you're looking for a distraction."

"Bully? I'm the bully? You won't even let him speak for himself!"

"Because I've tried to help him. I've asked him to let me in. He always refuses. Talking about it only makes him feel worse. If he doesn't sleep for too long at any one time, he's okay—he doesn't dream. We have a system and it works."

"That's what you call working? I've never felt such deep terror before in my life."

Mara's cheek twitched. She stared hard at Luke. "Ask him if you must. But you will respect his wishes."

Luke nodded. "That's all I ever intended." He strode out of the room before Mara could argue further.


"He would slit his own throat for you."

Karrde's words echoed in Mara's mind as she watched Luke leave. She hated Dankin's nightmares, hated what had happened to him as a child more than she'd ever hated anything in her whole life. Yet there was nothing she could do about it. Mental blocks seemed so easy. But in order to place mental blocks, you had to see what you were blocking. See the haunting memories, see what was so carefully hidden from the world.

Whenever this happened, when Dankin's sleep pattern was disrupted and the nightmares returned, Mara thought about the last conversation she'd had with Karrde before he officially handed the company over to her.

"There's one last thing I'd like to talk about before I go. I've told you before that everyone has a price, a hierarchy of loyalties, other things they value above the company—for some it's simply money, for others family, a homeplanet, or a pet cause. If it comes down to it, everyone can be bought, everyone has something closer to them than this company. And that's okay, I demand loyalty but I know absolute loyalty is not possible.

"There is one exception. Dankin. For a long time I thought I had his absolute loyalty, that he would choose nothing and no one above me. And then you came along." Karrde stared intently at her. Mara met his gaze evenly, despite the lump forming in her throat.

"You know what I'm talking about. He would slit his own throat for you." Karrde paused, allowing his words to sink in. "I'm speaking as a friend when I make this last request.

"Please, don't ask him to."

Mara had resented Karrde's words at first. Of course she would not demand any of her employees lay down their life for her. Lately though, when she saw the exhaustion etched on Dankin's face, when she felt the overwhelming terror as he tried to sleep, Mara wondered if she hadn't already failed Karrde's final request.


Luke was once again in the corridor outside Dankin's room when he stopped short. The door was slightly ajar and voices filtered out.

"Did I wake you, Benji? I'm sorry," Dankin said. There was a fresh current of hurt and shame flowing from Dankin, and Luke could see what Mara meant when she said talking about it made Dankin feel worse.

"It's okay," Benji replied. "I used to have nightmares too. I could hardly sleep when my dad was away. Then my mom gave me this." Benji paused as he presented something to Dankin. "She said it would keep bad dreams away. Here, take it, it really works."

"But then how will you sleep?" Dankin asked.

"Oh, I don't need it when my dad is nearby."

"Well . . . I'll give it a shot. Thank you."

"Don't worry, she won't let you down. There's just one thing . . . don't tell my dad I still sleep with a stuffed animal."

A hint of Dankin's exuberance returned as he replied, "I won't tell your dad if you don't tell the rest of the crew."

"It's a deal," Benji answered.

Luke backed up quickly down the corridor, his own mind now in turmoil.

Why hadn't he known Benji had nightmares? Callista must have known, why had she never mentioned it? Most likely, she hadn't wanted to worry him. But Benji was his son, he should have known. At the very least, he should have sensed something through the Force. And if he'd known, he would have been able to tell Benji how to overcome his fears through the Force.

What else did he not know about his family? What else had Callista not been able to tell him while he was fighting and she was raising their son? What other moments had passed without him noticing? The war had taken so much of his time, so much time that he should have spent with his family. Time he would never get back.