The next day, over breakfast, Obi-Wan voiced what seemed to be a very intelligent suggestion.
"Rather than all traveling in one big group," he suggested, "why don't we split up into, say, pairs, and spread out? That way we can cover more area."
Anakin nodded. "Sounds good to me. Who goes with whom?"
Luke said thoughtfully, "Well, first of all, should we go in twos or threes? It seems to me that threes might be a better idea, in case on person gets hurt. That way there'd be one to help and one to keep a lookout. We found you four in a pretty bad part of Coruscant, and if we're spending all day down there, the larger the group the better."
Qui-gon nodded. "Groups of three sound good. We should also have multiple means of communication."
"Meaning…?" Luke asked.
"Mean, he does, that if attacked one group is, have time to use a comlink they may not. Useful, it would be, if one member mentally could communicate with a member of the other group."
Anakin tilted his head to one side. "Okay, got that. I repeat: who goes with whom?"
Obi-Wan glanced around and shrugged. "I don't know. If we're going by means of communication…"
Yoda said, "In one group, the Skywalkers should be. In the other, should be Obi-Wan, Qui-gon and myself."
Anakin said, "That's probably not the best setup for communication, though."
"Less important, communication is. More important, is who works well with whom. In that regard, setup I have suggested is best."
Everyone nodded in agreement.
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"So how exactly are we supposed to identify the minds of drop ins from those of ordinary people?" Luke asked his father as they were setting out.
"There's a minor difference in the sense of a mind when it's been in close contact with the Realm of Spirit for a long time. A drop in would be able to identify another one easily, and I think if you looked hard enough you'd see it, too."
"But I don't know what to look for."
Anakin sighed. "Okay, then. Try it on me." He felt his son's probe reach out and touch his mind gently. "Don't push inward, push along the surface. You see the difference?"
Luke nodded. "Got it. There's sort of a… I don't know, sort of a glow combined with texture."
"Right. That's the sense of someone who's been heavily connected with the Realm of Spirit. Usually, that means a dead person. Sometimes, maybe not, but a living person with that sense is rare, and pretty much always either a trained Jedi, or a drop in like this case. Which reminds me. Not everyone we find will be trained. The only criterion for admission to the Realm is power, not training or connection, just the possession of power. It's not a big thing, just something to keep in mind."
Luke shrugged. "Okay."
Mara said, "Let's get started."
"Oh, one other warning: that also means that those who get dumped out, well, let's just say we might not want to leave them dumped out."
Luke frowned. "You mean…"
Anakin nodded. "Sith."
Mara grimaced. "Wonderful."
Anakin treated her to a twisted grin. "Isn't it, though?"
"No."
They walked in silence for a few more minutes, each lost in thought, and each keeping a mental 'eye' out for any minds from the Realm of Spirit.
Mara glanced over at Anakin, after a few moments. "I have to ask," she said softly. "Did you know my parents?"
Anakin looked somewhat surprised at the question. "Yes, I did."
"What were they like?"
He frowned for a moment, thinking. "I didn't know your mother that well," he confessed. "Miriana and I had one class together, self-defense. She was… I guess maybe three or four centimeters shorter than you are, and she had red hair, darker than yours; it was that really intense dark red color that you almost never see naturally. She was nice, sometimes, but she was not the friendliest person I ever met. Domion, though…" Anakin grinned broadly. "Domion Jade and I were best friends. We met each other in a piloting class, when we were thirteen. Domi was slightly taller than Luke is, and he had light hair, and the brightest green eyes I think I've ever seen. They both had them. Domi was nearly as good a pilot as I, which means he was a darn sight better than most, and he had an amazing sense of humor. We, ah, were known as the Triple-T."
Mara and Luke both shot him confused looks.
"That means Terrible Temple Teenagers," Anakin explained with a sigh. "We were pranksters. Any prank that could possibly be pulled, we pulled." He grinned. "He was the main idea guy, because he had no fear whatsoever about getting caught. His master was probably the most forgiving person in the galaxy. Except for that one time…"
"What one time?" Luke asked eagerly.
"The fifteenth-anniversary cantina crawl," Anakin replied. "It's kind of a long story. You see, every year the healers at the temple would have a fundraiser for medical equipment. About five years or so before I came to the Jedi Temple, the fundraiser was in the form of a sponsored Cantina-Crawl. Everyone had a sort of good time (there were a couple who got arrested, though) and they decided that fifteen years after the first one, they were going to do another. Domion and I had a great time playing pranks; though we never managed to top Windu's Tattoo from the original Crawl."
"What was Domion's master not forgiving about?"
"The Yenera extract," Anakin said. "You see, in the first Crawl one of the padawans had put Yenera in his least-favorite-person's glass, which then somehow got spread around to everyone. We decided to try and get that to happen again. Master Bliance had a habit of half-finishing drinks then giving them to someone else, so we put a double dose in his glass, hoping for that to happen. How were we to know that'd be the one glass he'd decide to finish?"
Mara snickered appreciatively, and Luke looked shocked. "What happened?"
Anakin chuckled. "What do you expect? He got crazy for the evening, then when he found out, he chased us all over the Temple. Everyone was laughing about that one for days."
"I can imagine."
"We thought it was pretty funny. Of course, he got it on holo, so the entire crawl was preserved for posterity…"
"Where's the chip?" Mara sounded eager. "I want to see this!"
Anakin shrugged. "I don't know. It actually was his and Miriana's holorecorder, and I don't know what he did with the chip. He made a couple copies, and sold them in the Temple (they sold for very high prices, mind. Everyone wanted to see us get drunk.). He told me he hid a copy on the Temple grounds for posterity, but chances are it's lost forever now."
Mara looked decidedly disappointed.
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"Owwwww!" howled Qui-gon.
Yoda brandished his stick. "Deserved that, you did. Next time, step on my foot you should not."
"You're not helping, Obi-Wan." Qui-gon glared at his former padawan, who was laughing.
"I'm sorry, Qui-gon," Obi-wan said between chuckles, "but this is surreal."
"You're telling me," grumbled the ten-year-old master.
Yoda just sighed, watching them.
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A figure dressed in voluminous black robes materialized in an alley. He grimaced at the rodents in the corner, and the animals trembled with a fear they did not understand, then fled. Two hands extended an oddly long lightsaber handle, solid beams of red light sprang out both ends, and he spun the lightsaber above his head while light the color of dried blood illuminated a tattooed face topped by a crown of horns.
Darth Maul was out for blood.
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"We haven't sensed anyone all day," grumbled Obi-Wan. "Tramping the streets doesn't seem to be doing much good."
He started to say more, but was silenced by a threatening wave of Yoda's stick. "Complain, you should not, Obi-Wan," the little green troll said grouchily. "Complain, you have, all day. Getting sick of it, I am."
"You're not the only one," grumbled Qui-gon. "I wish you'd shut up for a while, Padawan."
"I'm not a padawan anymore!" Exclaimed an extremely disgruntled Obi. "I've been knighted for quite a while now, I've had students of my own—"
"—One of which turned out to be a mass-murderer and the other trained more by Yoda than by you!" Qui-gon snapped. It wasn't his nature, but he was tired, and being trapped in a ten-year-old's body was making him irritable.
Obi-Wan's hurt was immediately evident. He frowned at the ground, and his shoulders slumped.
"Force, Obi-Wan, I didn't mean it like that!" Qui-gon exclaimed. "I'm sorry."
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"I think we need to find a new searching strategy today," Anakin announced at breakfast the next day. "I've got blisters that won't quit, and I'm not the only one."
"Hear, hear!" Obi-Wan stated emphatically. "My feet hurt. What do you have in mind, Anakin?"
"I'd say we start here, and work together in a power group to search for anyone who might be out. We contact them, Forcewise, and tell them to meet us somewhere convenient. Saves us tramping around the streets all day."
"Good idea!" Mara contributed. "I don't have blisters yet, but my feet hurt."
After eating, and clearing away the breakfast dishes, everyone sat in a circle. They didn't hold hands, or anything like that, but reached out in the Force for the presences of the people next to them. They formed a circle through the Force, of minds linked to minds linked to minds. Yoda started a surge of power and sent it to Qui-gon, who sent it to Obi-Wan, who sent it to Anakin, who sent it to Luke, who sent it to Mara, who sent it back to Yoda. They kept the surge traveling faster and faster around the circle until it was hard to say who had it, then sent it spinning outward, searching the surrounding city for Force-sensitives. It was a simple message: Are you there?
At first, nothing. Merely the quiet points of ordinary minds, none of them creating the unique swell in the Force of a possible Jedi, none with the unique texture of a once-dead Jedi.
Then, suddenly, //Who are you?//
//Friends,// they replied. //Jedi who came out earlier, and others who are alive, looking for new drop-ins.//
//Well, you found some.//
//Names?//
//Master A'jin Bliance, Jedi Margara Mila, and Jedi Domion Jade.//
//Margara?// Exclaimed Qui-gon mentally.
//Domi?// Asked Anakin.
//Hi Qui,// Margara said hesitantly.
//Well if it isn't Anakin Skywalker, by the Force I figured you'd end up out here!// The quick, pleasant voice of Jedi Domion Jade echoed in everyone's mind. //Wherever the center of action is, that's where you are. Has Miriana come out?//
//Not yet, that I know of, but the whole thing started the day before yesterday, and according to the great and mighty Master Yoda will keep up for weeks, if not longer. There's plenty of time yet for her to get here.//
//I hate to interrupt this old friends' reunion,// Obi-Wan's mental tone broke in, //But we can continue it in person. Where are you all?//
//Ummm… it looks like we're near Monument Park.//
//Great. Why don't we meet up in the far West corner of Monument Park in say, half a standard hour?//
//Sounds great to us.//
//See you then.//
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Darth Maul was not having fun.
First of all, he didn't know how he'd suddenly ended up in a back alley on Coruscant. He'd been dead, he knew, for a while. He remembered vividly, killing the old Jedi, and getting killed in turn by the young one. He remembered the pain, brief but burning, as the green saber swept through his belly. He remembered fleeing his dying, falling body, his soul joining those in the Realm of Spirit. He remembered listening to the ancient Sith talk. He hadn't minded being treated as a pup—he wanted to learn all he could on how to defeat the Jedi whenever possible. He'd participated in several raids against the Jedi spirits, and had earned a name for himself as a brave fighter, and a cunning leader.
Suddenly, he was on the streets of Coruscant, with no money, no idea what was going on, and nothing but his clothes and his lightsaber.
He caressed the long hilt. A beautiful weapon, truly. He ignited the two blades again, and whirled the weapon over his head, enjoying the surge of power he felt.
Finally, common sense took over and he closed it down, returning it to his belt. He started to walk in a direction at random. He had no clue where he was going.
*Squelch *
Ah, shavit, thought the Sith. All this and I have to step in cannoid droppings, too.