Chapter 9

Dankin held the stuffed animal gingerly as he looked it over. It had soft fur, a little worn but still bright white. He stroked its fluffy tail, the long fibers silky between his fingers. He was struck by how much it resembled the whisperkit that slept at his feet when he was young. He'd always admired the whisperkit's fur, pure white among so much filth. Strange, he hadn't thought about the whisperkit since. . . ever, really. But he'd been reminded of it twice in just a few days. The only way he was able to move forward, away from his childhood, was to never look back—at least, not while he was conscious—but for the first time he wondered whatever became of the small creature. Nothing good, most likely.

Dankin tried to push away all thoughts of the past as he lay back down in his bed. They would arrive at Corellia soon, and he needed to be rested before they got there. He took a final look at the stuffed whisperkit, silently pleading for a dreamless sleep. Then he tucked the toy under his arm and waited for unconsciousness to once again overtake him.

Mara headed to the exercise room, hoping to work off some stress with a bit of training. Normally she preferred to train alone, but this time she made an exception.

"Are you up for a little sparring?" she asked as they arrived in what used to be a two-level cargo hold but now served primarily as a training area.

Benji didn't answer right away. He twisted his lip as he took in the catwalks crisscrossing above him.

"I've got remotes if you prefer," Mara suggested.

"It's not that." Benji swallowed hard. "I don't have my own lightsaber. I never built one," he confessed, looking away from Mara as his cheeks flushed. "I usually just use my mom's." Benji's voice trembled a bit at the last sentence, as a fresh wave of sorrow flowed over him.

Well, Mara thought to herself, nice of the galaxy to finally throw me an easy one.

"Here," she said out loud, digging into her pocket and retrieving Callista's lightsaber. "Your mother sent this for you." Mara tossed the lightsaber to Benji, hoping he wouldn't expect any further explanation.

Benji's eyes widened as he caught the lightsaber, his embarrassment forgotten, replaced with eagerness. He looked at Mara, but seemed to struggle to find the right words to say.

Having had enough of the emotional rollercoaster her ship had become, Mara hurried on with the exercise. "Don't just stare at it. Let's see if it still works."

Benji nodded, then carefully pressed the ignition button. A bright topaz blade appeared accompanied by a familiar low hum. He experimentally waved it, seeming to savor the slight change in sound as it sliced through the air.

"That blade might have belonged to your mother, but don't be treating it like it's sacred. It's a weapon and it's been around longer than your father. You're not going to hurt it."

Benji still seemed mesmerized by the glowing blade. "Alright, let's see what you've got." Mara pulled her own lightsaber from her belt.

Benji tore his eyes from his blade to look at Mara as she settled into a combat stance and ignited her weapon. She moved slowly and deliberately at first, and Benji was easily able to match each thrust and parry. Mostly she moved slowly because she didn't want to overwhelm Benji, but in truth she herself had not fought against a living opponent with a lightsaber in far too long.

After a few minutes she sped up a bit and he continued to keep pace. "So far, so good," Mara commented. "Do you have any finishing moves?" She took a step back and let her blade slip outward, inviting Benji to attempt to disarm her. Benji eyes focused intently and he took a deep breath. Then in one motion he advanced toward her and twisted his blade around hers. Mara relaxed her wrist, intending to allow her weapon to be pulled from her grasp. But it wasn't.

Benji furrowed his brow in disappointment. Mara moved back into a fairly gentle attack. After a few more minutes of sparring, Mara once again let her lightsaber drop to where she could be easily disarmed. Once again Benji attempted to twist her blade away from her and once again she easily kept her grip.

Benji stopped, took a step back and shut down his lightsaber. "I can't do it."

"Why not?" Mara asked.

"I know the technique, I just can't make it work," he replied miserably. From his tone, Mara guessed that he'd been struggling with this move for some time.

"Let's try it again. Relax," Mara began.

"I know. Let the Force flow through me," Benji finished.

"Never mind that," Mara replied. "All you need is to decide what you're going to do and then do it."

Benji looked uncertain. "What are you going to do?" Mara asked.

"Disarm you?" he replied hesitantly.

"What are you going to do?" Mara repeated.

"Disarm you," Benji said firmly.

"What are you going to do?" Mara repeated a bit louder.

"Disarm you," Benji declared, matching Mara's volume. He ignited his lightsaber, closed the distance between them, and went in for his finishing move before Mara could repeat the question a fourth time. Mara's lightsaber was ripped from her hand and went sailing across the room. Benji watched as the lightsaber clattered to the ground and Mara nodded her approval.

"You did it."

"I did it." Benji said slowly, like he didn't quite believe it. After a moment he looked up to Mara and grinned in satisfaction. "I really did it."

"Let's not get cocky," Mara warned. "See if you can do it again." She collected her lightsaber and they continued to spar.

An hour later, Mara and Benji sat on the floor, sipping water as they went over the high points of what proved to be a successful workout for both of them.

"I'm sure your father will be pleased," Mara said offhandedly. Suddenly Benji's smile faded.

"What's wrong?" Mara asked.

"I wasn't going to tell my dad. I don't think he'll be very happy."

"Why not?"

"He kinda forbid me from using Mom's lightsaber. He thinks I need to build my own."

"Don't you have a master?" Mara asked. "What does he think about it?"

"My master," Benji said, picking his words carefully, "My master lets me use it."

"Well, then you should be fine." Benji nodded, but looked unconvinced. After a moment of silence Mara added, " You know, I didn't build this lightsaber."

"You didn't?" Benji asked curiously.

"No, you're father gave it to me many years ago, before you were born."

"Why didn't you make your own?"

"Because . . ." Mara hesitated, trying to recall Luke's exact words. " 'Not all Jedi take the same path.' Or something like that. I'm sure it was terribly profound."

Benji looked skeptical. "That doesn't sound like Dad. Well, maybe the profound part does. But not the rest."

"I'm not sure how to explain exactly, but at the time it did sound like your father."

Something passed over Benji's features as he stared at the dull gray paneling of the floor. He ran a hand through his sandy brown hair.

"Although," Mara continued, "I have always wondered . . ." Benji looked up at her expectantly. "Your father was carrying this lightsaber when he lost his hand. And then his own clone nearly killed him with it. Sometimes I wonder if maybe he wasn't just trying to unload a bad luck charm." The young Jedi gave Mara an odd look, not quite certain how serious she was. "But it was probably the profound thing," she added quickly. "Probably."

Where are you Callista? Why won't you come back to me?

Luke didn't understand. Obi-Wan had spoken to him long after his death. He'd caught glimpses of Yoda and even his father as ghosts of the Force. Why not Callista? He needed to see her one last time, to speak to her just once more. He paced the room in frustration, bordering on despair.

She had to be out there. She may have been Force-blind at her death, but she was still a Jedi. He had no doubt that she would be welcomed by the Force when she died, that she would have the same abilities as any other fallen Jedi. So why hadn't she found him?

Hours after succumbing to sleep, Dankin drifted toward consciousness. It was a slow awakening, something he wasn't used to. His thoughts began to order themselves as his mind kicked back into gear. That's when it hit him.

For months now the company's books hadn't been balancing. Dankin and Odonnl had spent weeks pouring over expense reports, trying to find the missing funds. Eventually they'd been forced to the conclusion that someone in the company was stealing money. Since then, they'd spent nearly every spare moment trying to determine who the thief was. And now, Dankin had it.

Of course! We've been staring at it all along. That has to be who's been siphoning money from the company.

He sat up abruptly, his senses feeling sharper than they had in weeks. He was not only rested, but he'd finally solved the mystery, and just in time. He got to his feet, eager to share his discovery with Odonnl. He was halfway to the door when the stuffed whisperkit, lying in the middle of the bed, caught his eye. Dankin paused, considering what to do with it. After a moment, he decided to tuck it into his jacket for safe-keeping. Then he hurried off to find Odonnl.