Blaster fire sizzled and sparked through the rain as the stormtroopers fired on the Republic's fallback position. He rushed through the jungle, leaping over fetid pools churning with agitated reptiles as he forged ahead to the front lines, determined to ensure that the position held. He reached the trench and leapt, completing a graceful somersault in the air before landing lightly, the green blade of his lightsaber erupting into the humid, sweat-drenched atmosphere. The blade danced as if possessed, and as the troopers directed the firestorm onto him, he settled deep into the Force, allowing it to guide his weapon. Counterfire erupted behind him as the Republic troops, emboldened by Luke Skywalker's arrival, took advantage of the cover, picking out the muddy white targets on the far end of the morass they had fought and died over for the past three hours.

The firing slowed from the other side of the battlefield, and a woman climbed out of the trench. She stood silently before the trench, unperturbed by the blaster bolts streaking through the air around her. Her crimson hair hung plastered to her head, and even in the distance, the smoke, and the screaming, her emerald eyes cut through the murk, piercing Luke with their ferocious intensity. A red lightsaber blade emerged from the cylinder in her hand, and the troops behind her ceased their firing, falling back as the Emperor's Hand prepared to face the dreaded Jedi Master.

The chorus of blaster fire intensified, becoming more jubilant and exuberant; a dawn chorus of destruction singing through the cavernous boughs of a mighty forest.

Blasters don't sing, he thought through a haze of sleep, and with the thought, the dream ended. He opened his eyes, taking in the thatched roof covering the ramshackle walls of his wooden hut. He stretched, feeling his age in the aches and pains accrued from the previous days' meditations. He swung his feet over the side of his wooden bed, settling them on the compacted dirt floor of his hut. The symphonic cacophony of the birds continued, heralds of another dawn on the planet Erys.

It had been a long time since she had appeared in his dreams. It had been longer still since he entertained the thought of her. There was too much regret; too much hurt. To Luke's astonishment, the passage of time did little to blunt the heartache and the guilt. He had assumed that the past had been resolved and appropriately buried. Yoda's voice echoed in his mind: Assume, do not. Betray you, your arrogance will.

Rising to his feet, he pushed the makeshift door aside and stretched, feeling a tendril of sunshine splash onto his face as he closed his eyes. The avian symphony carried on through a droning, indistinguishable sequence of movements, and ignoring the hunger gnawing at his insides, Luke set forth along the well-worn path leading to the wellspring. He passed through the forest, pushing through the fronds of two massive ferns to enter the clearing within which the wellspring sat. Its radiant brilliance overwhelmed him, and he quickly forget the image of the red-haired woman preparing to face him in battle.

He settled to the ground, and like clockwork, Master Yoda appeared by his side.

"Dreamt, you have, Master Skywalker," Yoda's gravelly voice proclaimed. "On the woman, your thoughts linger."

"Mara," Luke whispered, the name feeling arcane and foreign in his mouth.

"Great conflict surrounded her. Powerful, she was," Yoda said, a fleeting respect suffusing his words before shifting back into his increasingly customary disapproval. "Regret, do you, your entanglement?"

"I do," Luke said, the sadness and guilt from the dream emerging against the brilliance of the wellspring.

"For today, meditate, you will, on your failure. Attached, you became. Consequences, failed to see, did you," Yoda said, punctuating the critique by stamping his walking stick onto the dirt.

"Yes, Master," Luke said, and he settled into a cross-legged position, closing his eyes as he slowed his breath.

Red blade clashed against green, and he saw the fury blazing in her eyes.

She laid in the mud, beaten, furious; a prisoner, interrogated – but he protected her; his compassion intervened, and lives were lost.

Her better instincts emerged under the shade of his unwavering faith, and tears streamed down her eyes as she abandoned revenge and darkness.

The first time he grazed her shoulder where she did not flinch.

The loneliness and sadness that years of hatred had sequestered in a forgotten corner of her soul.

His empathy, his understanding; her biting sarcasm.

The moment she set aside her defenses; her vulnerability, his unwavering acceptance; her face, drawing closer to his, longing burning in her piercing emerald eyes.

Birds, again. Different tones, different timbres, a different cadence. A different symphony. A different world.

Luke opened his eyes again, finding the bed softer and the air warmer, stickier. Gone were the thatched, driftwood walls. In their place, Luke saw the old, familiar mossy stone walls of his hut on Yavin. Embers glowed in the room's central fire pit, tendrils of smoke rising through the opening in the ceiling. Light drifted through the thick foliage of the Yavin jungle - dawn's first blessing.

He followed the beam of light through dancing dust motes and traced its course to a woman's shoulder, bare, pale and freckled. She slept through the dawn, her face more peaceful than he had ever known it, curled up in a sheet – a luxury he had allowed them after years of spartan living. He worked his way carefully to the edge of the bed, trying not to wake her. Her eyes still closed, she stirred, mumbling, "Come back to bed."

"You rest," Luke said, pulling his tunic over his head. "I'm going to walk into the jungle to collect fresh luvella leaves for tea."

"And honey?" she smiled, her eyes still closed, a smile steerching

"With honey," Luke affirmed, his smile infecting his voice.

She rolled over, opening her eyes. Her hair was tangled and wild, and her beauty nearly overthrew his efforts to collect breakfast. Smiling, her eyes half open, she added, "And you know what else. . ."

"Right," Luke chuckled. She had developed a minor obsession to the succulent boh fruits growing in abundance in the ancient grove. "I'll return soon, my love."

She waved vaguely at him, then closed her eyes again, throwing herself back into sleep.

Luke stepped out into the warm, humid dawn, feeling the caress of the morning air passing through his tunic. His feet bare, he followed the well worn path to the ancient grove, memories of the previous night passing idly through his mind. The Force hummed and vibrated around him, and he sank into its familiar comfort, feeling her drifting peacefully into sleep. She perked up slightly as she felt his mind touch hers, and she returned his mental caress with the words, Focus, Skywalker. Boh fruit.

Luke smiled, picking up his pace, wishing not to earn a jab for taking too long with breakfast. He drifted down the path, content in a way he had never known, humming to himself. So lost in his daydreams was he, that he did not notice the initial shift in the Force. A new presence emerged, and as it neared, it pulled Luke out of his daydreams with its more serious, purposeful nature. Luke was nearly to the grove, when he registered the approach of the being to whom the presence belonged. Slithering from a separate path into a clearing came Master Oppo Rancisis, aged, wizened, and dry as the Dune Sea.

"Master Skywalker," the aged Jedi wheezed.

Luke braced himself, feeling a subtle wave of resentment and annoyance. This was not the person he wanted to see on such an idyllic morning, nor was the conversation that was certain to follow one he wished to have. Mara's face flashed before his eyes, her hair wild, her eyes sleepy, and a rush of impatience stabbed at him.

"Your thoughts betray you, Master Skywalker," Master Rancisis chided in his dry, sibilant voice. "You have evaded me now for a full week. I must insist we discuss the matter of your dalliance with this. . . woman."

"Her name is Mara, Master, and I believe we have discussed the matter enough. Now if you'll excuse me. . ." Luke said, as he picked his way through the bushes to circumvent the spot where Master Rancisis blocked the path.

As Luke walked away, he heard a rustling as Master Rancisis followed. Luke rolled his eyes as he heard Master Rancisis call out, "Master Skywalker, I must insist."

"Very well. Come along, there's plenty of boh fruit for everyone," Luke called over his shoulder.

Moments later, Luke reached the grove, and Master Rancisis arrived shortly after. Luke had already begun picking the succulent fruit from a low-hanging branch, and as Master Rancisis approached, Luke tossed him one. Master Rancisis caught it, but set it aside in mild discuss.

"No thank you. Such indulgences do not comport with a Jedi's constitution," Master Rancisis chided disapprovingly.

"Suit yourself," Luke said happily as he tore into one of the fruits. He smiled as he imagined Mara's annoyance that he didn't wait for her before eating. Luke bustled about, gathering fruit and tea leaves. Master Rancisis slithered after him, struggling to keep up.

As Luke paused to listen for the sound of the bees swarming about the beehive he and Mara had found, Master Rancisis resumed his entreaties, "Master Skywalker, I require your attention on this matter." It was the closest to irritated that Luke had ever observed the older Master, and Luke had to suppress the smile as he considered that it would be good for Master Rancisis to feel a little irritation for a change.

"I'm listening," Luke said. Reaching out with the Force to soothe the bees swarming around the hive. Withdrawing a flask from his pocket, his unstopped it and moved it slowly toward the honey dripping from the base of the hive. The bees swarmed around him, unconcerned, soothed by the Force.

"The Council is prepared to vote on your removal as Grand Master," Master Rancisis declared.

Luke winced, losing concentration. A bee landed on his hand, and alarmed by his sudden shift in bearing, stung him. Luke jumped back, spilling some of the honey on himself, as he turned toward Master Rancisis with his full attention, and said, "What?! On what ground?"

"Your dalliance with this woman. A majority of the Council has deemed it unacceptable, and they will not abide a Jedi of your stature engaging in. . ." Master Rancisis struggled to say the word, so uncouth did he find it, ". . . relations. . . with a former enemy who has displayed proficiency with the dark side of the Force."

"You can't be serious," Luke said, his aggravation rising.

"Take care, Master Skywalker," Master Rancisis cautioned. "We all know to what end anger leads. Again, I condemn your reckless practices on attachment!"

Luke took a calming breath to settle his annoyance at the critique and the challenge to his position. He aggravation momentarily soothed, he shot back, "We've been over this, and the Council has agreed. The new Code does not prohibit romantic attachment."

"Disagreed, many of us did and still do on that revision." Master Rancisis argued. "And now, as you. . ." again, Master Rancisis struggled to find the least charged word, ". . . as you shoot betwixt wind and water. . "

Luke laughed out loud at Master Rancisis's attempt to neuter the language referring to sex, and Master Rancisis bristled. "Laugh if you wish, but we have the votes to remove you. A Jedi, you will remain, as we cannot yet repair the damage wrought upon the Jedi Code. The Masters will not suffer a Grand Master failing to treat his duties with the requisite seriousness!"

Luke's laughter had failed, realizing that Master Rancisis was now presenting a serious, concrete threat. The threat to his position was less important than the progress he had made; Jedi before him had enjoyed romantic love, and thus far, those attachments, when supported, nurtured, guided, and honored, had caused no harm. Instead, they bestowed considerable peace and light upon the practitioners, even when the occasional conflict arose.

"What makes you think I'm not taking my responsibilities seriously?" Luke asked. He followed Master Rancisis's gaze down to his now swollen hand, which was covered in honey and then to his bare feet and legs covered only by a tunic.

Master Rancisis uttered a dry scoffing sound, feeling it was beneath his dignity to point out Luke's current state. Straightening himself up as if to show Luke what the requisite seriousness and dignity looked like, Master Rancisis explained, "The Council has enormous respect for you, given your skill, your accomplishments, and your efforts at resurrecting the Jedi Order. But now, as the galaxy enjoys peace, we debate the path we are to follow, and we do not wish to be led by a distracted Jedi Master frolicking in meadows."

"I offer this choice: renounce your relationship with this woman, and we shall let the matter rest. Or, face displacement from your position as Grand Master, watch as we reform the Code, and face renunciation without choice," Master Rancisis declared. As always, his voice was brittle, dry, and emotionless, yet the threat carried through anyway.

"You're making a mistake," Luke shot back.

"Master Skywalker, I have lived 300 years in the service of the Jedi, and not once have I observed any reason to believe that the indulgence of romantic attachment is befitting of a Jedi. The Jedi Code of old. . ."

Luke interrupted, saying, "The Jedi Code of old was restrictive and punitive, and it produced plenty of suffering."

"Again, you levy this argument, and again you offer no burden of proof," Master Rancisis countered. "Freed from attachment, the Jedi were freed from suffering."

"Free from suffering?" Luke said incredulously. "Doesn't the Jedi Code say that suffering is inevitable?"

"It does indeed," Master Rancisis countered. "But romantic suffering is not, nor is the temptation it breeds."

"And what of demanding that Jedi deny their own needs and instincts?" Luke countered, feeling as if he was losing ground. He wished that he was not having this argument in his tunic, covered in honey.

"Master Skywalker, again, you provide no rational basis for such questions. I will not debate this matter further. I have spoken," Master Rancisis concluded.

Luke felt an old stirring of anger, but knowing that Master Rancisis was watching carefully, Luke settled the feeling, then asked, "How long will I have to make my decision?"

"We vote this evening," Master Rancisis said with a tone of finality.

"What took you so long?" she asked. She wore his spare tunic, and she curled into a chair he had built for her next to the fire, which she had rekindled. Her hair had been partially tamed, but she was no less effortlessly beautiful. The sight of her broke his heart.

He set the boh fruit down on the hearth and removed the tea leaves from his pocket, wordlessly preparing the tea kettle, which he set on the fire. She frowned, reading his silence and the dramatic shift in his bearing.

"What's going on, Skywalker?" she asked, reading his demeanor. He could sense her own disquiet emerging, and he knew it would be futile to hide his feelings from her.

"Master Rancisis tracked me down at the grove," Luke said.

She rolled her eyes and, attempting to cheer Luke up, said, "And what did that wrinkled old windbag want? Tell me you didn't give him any of my boh fruit."

Her smile turned into a frown as Luke remained despondent. Her concern growing at his lack of response, she added, "Luke, what is it?"

Luke pulled the kettle off the fire, and as he poured tea into her cup, he said, his voice flat, "He told me that the Council was prepared to remove me as the Grand Master."

"Are you serious?!" Mara asked, scandalized.

Luke nodded his head.

"Why?" Mara asked, her mouth open in indignation.

"They said that my relationship with you betrayed the seriousness of my responsibilities, and that the Council would no longer accept it," Luke said, his voice hollow.

Mara sat silently, her mouth still slightly open, studying him as if trying to ascertain where his heart might be leading him. Her indignation spiked again, as she said, "But the Jedi Code says there's nothing wrong with this."

"They plan to change the Jedi Code. Rancisis has the votes to do both," Luke replied despondently.

Silence lay upon the air in the hut as Mara sat with Luke's words, and Luke's insides twisted with anger, confusion, betrayal, fear, and heartbreak. Mara closed her eyes, and Luke felt the light brush of her mind, and he knew she had a sense of the cocktail of emotions brewing inside of him.

"And?" she said, a note of suspicion in his voice.

"And," Skywalker said, not sure how he would be able to complete the thought without hurting her. "And, I can't allow the Jedi Order to devolve into what it was."

Luke felt an iciness enter the room, and he knew that his attempts to soften the blow had failed spectacularly.

"Are you breaking up with me?" Mara asked, ice in her voice.

"Mara, I. . ." Luke began.

She cut him off, saying, "You are, aren't you?"

He looked up from her tea and faced her. Hurt, anger, pain, and heartbreak radiated from her eyes, which pierced him, this time drawing emotional blood.

"If this Order goes backward, not only is it doomed, but the Jedi who have enjoyed these freedoms will suffer," Luke explained. "I have to think about them, too."

"Is this because of your father?" Mara asked, acidly.

"No, what are talking about?" Luke said defensively.

"Oh, who are you kidding. It's always about your damn father," Mara spat. "You think you're the only thing that can stop another dark Jedi, and you'll put everything aside to try to save all these people."

"After all they've been through, I owe it to them to. . ." Luke began, but she cut him again.

"You don't owe the Jedi anything. You killed the Emperor. You saved your father. You saved the galaxy. Isn't that enough for you?" she snapped, her hurt wrestling with her rage.

"You know as well as I do that the danger isn't over," Luke said, growing angry himself.

"So?" Mara shot back. "You think about what you owe all of these people, but what do you owe me?"

Luke opened his mouth to speak, and agonized, he closed it again.

"This is the only happiness I've ever known. And now you're going to take it all away from me because you can't put the Civil War behind you?" Mara said, rising to her feet. Her eyes were wide with rage. "How dare you!"

"Mara, please," Luke began, but her rage, once it built a head of steam, was immutable.

But to Luke's surprise, she became still, almost cold, as she said, "Master Rancisis gives you his ultimatum. I give you mine." Her eyes burned with intensity as she said, "Forget the Jedi. Accept that you did your part. Come away with me and we build a life together."

Luke was caught off guard by her vulnerability. She stood before him, tears welling in her eyes, her pleading verging toward begging. Luke, open to her through his connection in the Force, felt her fear and her vulnerability, and he knew she teetered on a precipice. He reached out for her, but she did not move. She cocked her head to the side in a gesture that clearly said, "I'm waiting."

His hand fell to his side. He felt the urge to take the offer, to walk away, to abandon his destiny. The Jedi existed without him before, and they would exist without him again. He had saved the galaxy, rebuilt the order. Surely, he could allow himself some of the happiness he had given so many others.

The image of Kira, still young, still struggling, emerged. He saw her struggling against the restrictions of the Code, and an echo of his father's turn to the dark side ratted through his mind. He remembered Leia's warning about how the old ways could ultimately lead her to darkness. Leia had always excelled at foresight, and he had seen enough to trust her without reservation. He did not just buffer the Jedi from onerous restrictions; he protected Kira, the daughter of the Emperor; powerful, yet still unstable, from darkness.

"I can't," Luke said, the two words tearing his insides out and dragging them through the fire.

Her vulnerability subsided as a wall built of rage and ice emerged. Her piercing green eyes bore into his, and he had a sense of her anger, rage, and darkness building, like a thunderstorm on a summer's day. Luke's apprehensions rose as he felt her anger brewing, and he said, softly, "Mara, I can explain."

"Get out of my way," Mara said, her voice steel, her tone ice.

"Mara, please. Can we talk about this?" Luke implored.

"Don't make me say it again," Mara commanded, and she started around the hearth toward the door.

Luke stepped around to try to stop her, to talk with her, to reason with her. Her anger spiked, and she pushed him. Luke flew backward into the wall, slamming hard into the stone. His vision went black, and as he struggled back up to his feet, he heard the door slam.

A red blade swung toward his head, and he ducked as the blade cut through the blba tree behind him. He ducked, rolling to the side, holding up his lightsaber in a defensive posture. She charged him again, her green eyes blazing. He blocked her saber with his, holding her charge back.

"Mara, please," Luke pleaded.

"You took everything from me!" Mara roared.

She looked up at him through the tall grass, the purple light of Dantooine's moon bathing her pale skin. She scowled, her chest heaving as he pointed the tip of his lightsaber at her.

"Go on. Do it, you coward," she spat, contempt and hatred in her voice.

She stood before the Jedi Council, shackled, her head bowed. The Jedi Masters raised their hands, and Luke, reluctantly, raised his as well. She looked up, her hatred gone, replaced with regret. In her eyes, he could see the plea she issued in his hut on Yavin. Come away with me and we build a life together.

He closed his eyes, feeling the Jedi Masters around him withdrawing her power as they performed the abolition ritual.

He withdrew from his meditation with a gasp and a start. As he caught his breath, wrestling against the shame, horror, sadness, and regret swirling in his body, Master Yoda appeared, appraising him stoically.

"A lesson, you have learned?" Master Yoda asked gravely.

Luke did not have an answer. The visions from his meditation swirled, evoking more emotional pain. The Jedi had relocated her to Sargon after her abolition, and he never found out what had become of her.

"Regret, guilt, your teachers these feelings must be," Yoda admonished.

As Luke looked inward at the emotions, he recognized that the action around which regret burned the strongest was choosing the Jedi over Mara Jade. They had excommunicated him and took away everything he had built anyway, all because of a lie.

Had he walked away. . . a vision emerged of a young girl, red haired, but blue eyed, racing toward him through tall grass, her face alight with love and glee.

"Regret tells me I should have stayed with her," Luke said.

"No!" Yoda said, his voice more aggressive than Luke had ever heard. He stamped his stick down again, saying, "Too slowly do you learn! Fail, you do, to see the truth. Attachment! Attachment is the heart of your failure."

"But couldn't you say that Master Rancisis's attachment to the old code. . ." Luke countered

"Blame Master Rancisis, you must not. Your own fault, this was," Master Yoda said.

The image of Mara, her rage burning in her, attacking him on Dantooine emerged. Luke, in his supreme confusion, could not be certain what was wrong and what was right. He collapsed onto his back, tears welling in his eyes.

"Cry, you shall not," Yoda said, his voice gentler this time. "The first to fail, you were not. Always the same, the lesson is."

"Abandon attachment," Luke muttered, tears still welling in his eyes against his Master's disapproval.

"Tomorrow, learn this lesson again. And the next day. And the next. Learn, you must!" Yoda commanded.