The Storm

by Djuva

After the victories won the New Republic faces a new threat from without a mysterious alien race and an old one: the Empire. Palpatine's legacy is still haunting the heroes of The Art of War, and it hits one of them particularly hard, when the plans bot

5. Chapter 4 - Pulling the Strings

Chapter 4 - Pulling the Strings

Roganda Ismaren followed Erinin slowly, gingerly, taking delicate steps to avoid the mass of jerking bodies packed tightly in the low, humid confines of the Pashey Club. The music was thundering in her ears in a steady, pulsing rhythm that was driving her mad. The club was far too loud, fat too hot, and harbored far too many people for her taste. Her bodyguard was working his way across the floor methodically, and Roganda followed with a hard smile on her lips, her dark eyes sparkling with anger. Suddenly the crowd gave way to a raised dais, where people were sipping drinks at small tables and a long bar. Erinin threw a professional glance across the assembly, then pointed at a door at the far back, where two tough-looking men were standing guard. Roganda nodded.

"We have an appointment with Yana Dar," Erinin told the guards loudly, to be heard over the din. One of the men shook his head.

"She has an appointment. You don't. Have a drink on the house."

Erinin shook his head. "I am with her."

"No, don't worry." Laying a hand on his shoulder Roganda whispered in his ear. "It will be all right."

He looked down at her over his shoulder, then gave a curt nod. "As you wish." Stepping back he waited until one of the guards had opened the door for Roganda. Undoubtedly he was checking the room beyond as best he could. Not that there was much to see.

Stepping into the semi-darkness, Roganda felt slightly uneasy. The door closed behind her and thankfully the music dimmed down to a more bearable level.

"Yana Dar?" she called softly.

When another door opened, spilling bright light into the room, Roganda jumped in surprise. A woman strode toward her, arms spread in greeting, a broad smile on her face. Her blue eyes were sparkling merrily.

"You are here!" Embracing her tightly Yana Dar laughed in delight. "I am so happy to finally meet you in person. And where is your charming son?"

"Aboard my ship. He declined your gracious invitation, I am sorry."

"Boys in a temper, I know how it is," Yana replied with a smile. Her dark blonde curls were flying when she shook her head. "I suppose it cannot be helped. But please, take a seat. Sharma!" A slender Twi'lek woman entered gracefully. "A Sunburst for me, Sharma. Roganda, what do you take?"

"A drink?"

"Of course! Sharma can mix absolutely anything for you. How about a Roumay Blend? Your favourite, as far as I recall."

"A splendid idea," Roganda answered with a polite little nod. So she knew about her tastes, did she?

"Sharma, please." The Twi'lek vanished again at her mistress' order. "You had a pleasant voyage, I assume?"

"Yes. No troubles at all."

"I am happy to hear it, madam."

"Please, call me Roganda."

"Roganda." Yana Dar smiled. "Your son is well?"

"Yes."

"No complications? This is impotant. The task you have described is immense, and if he cannot deal with the stress..."

"Rest assured that he can deal with it. Now, as for my request. You have a plan?"

Yana Dar nodded. "Yes. We will start this operation from Yaga Minor."

"Imperial space," Roganda commented. "We will have to be careful there."

"Your friends are gathering at Yaga Minor, Roganda. It is the perfect place for a new beginning."

"My-friends?"

"Roganda, I deal in information. There is little that escapes my notice."

"What do you suggest?"

"I know part of your plan, and, if I may, I would advise a more diffident approach. As I understand you are the mind and your son the tool. Literally."

Roganda stiffened. How much did the woman really know? "What do you mean?"

"I know quite a lot about the Emperor's little project, from its conception to the implementation of its training."

"My son is no thing, no tool, Yana Dar."

"No? Your master planned for him to be just that, Roganda. A tool for his purposes, as he viewed everything and everyone. Have you ever heard of the Jen'da prophecies?" Roganda shook her head. "Currently I am conducting efforts in acquiring the sole surviving copy of the prophecies. It was in Palpatine's possession, and that is my only lead. Of course, I have a few suspicions as to their whereabouts, but I am almost certain that the prophecies played an important part in Palpatine's plans. Plans that include your son."

Yana Dar studied the former concubine and Emperor's Hand closely. She seemed ready to break down and confess everything, confronted with the information broker's insider knowledge, but not just yet. What would it take to make her trust a stranger?

Rising from her seat, Yana went over and lay her hands on the other woman's shoulders tenderly. "Roganda, I know what you went through. I know that you were cheering when your master died. You did not want him to abuse your son the way he was abusing you for his ends, am I right?"

"Yes."

"And yet you now use Irek the same way. I understand, in a way. You want him to take his rightful place, a place Palpatine would have denied him. Yet you understand politics too. Your-friends-will not want another regent. They are jealous of each other's power and wealth, and Irek threatens all of that, should he become more than a tool. If you want their support, and you need it, my friend, you will have to convince them that Irek will be no threat, that you can control him."

"He is my son," Roganda tried weakly.

"I know." Embracing the slender woman, Yana felt a pang of guilt. Trust. It was a high prize to pay, but she needed Roganda's help too. The woman was shrewd, ambitious and a filled with a deep desire for revenge. Underneath all that, though, a mother's heart was beating fiercely. "You have a friend in me, Roganda. Someone you can trust."

"Really?" the other gave a bitter laugh. "You know more about me and my son than anyone else, and you fling that knowledge in my face as if to insult me."

"I assume you came here hoping to gain my support and keep your secrets?"

"Maybe I did."

"Roganda," she murmured, "you need not hide anything from me."

Looking up at her sharply the woman frowned. "How? How can I trust you?"

Suppressing a regretful sigh, Yana told her everything. Well. Almost everything.

Leia frowned at the professor, the holobook still clutched in her hands. "What are you telling me? That Irek can influence machines with the Force?"

He nodded. "Yes. I implanted a chip, a transmitter that acts as conduit. I know that history claims that Jedi cannot influence mechanics, but if you translate those Force abilities into a binary code and transmit it..."

"I get the picture." Leia exhaled slowly. So that was it. "Who gave you that task?"

"The Emperor. He was very interested in the project, I might add."

"Artificial intelligence... But how does he do it?"

"The understanding of the machine's internal processes comes first, of course," he explained. "How it works," he added when the Princess gave him a blank look. "I admit that at first I had doubts in the boy's abilities, but his memory is astounding. He has no trouble with handling complex logical patterns at all."

Leia gave him a long look. "Professor, do you know why? Why he wanted Irek to gain those abilities?"

Magrody shook his head. "Roganda Ismaren never told me, and he certainly did not either." The man shuddered slightly in remembrance. "When they came to fetch me, and Palpatine told me that he knew-"

"Knew what?"

"I-" he hesitated, then cast his eyes away. "I suppose you yourself have cursed your heritage sometimes, but I, I did not know. I suspected, perhaps, but when he told me to the face that I could either serve him or be prey for his Jedi hunters, I had no choice really. My wife..."

"You are Force-sensitive," the Princess breathed. "You showed him how to implement his knowledge." She frowned. "They held your family hostage?" Again a nod. There were tears in the old man's eyes. That was just typical, wasn't it? You thought you had found the bad guy and then he turned out to have been a victim of circumstances.

"I do not know what she wants with him, but I did what they told me. It is fascinating, to tell the truth, but not knowing...."

Leia patted his shoulder gently. "We will find out what she is planning, professor. And we will find your family." If they are still alive, she added quietly to herself. A Force-strong boy who could manipulate mechanical things with his thoughts. With Palpatine's obsession for destructive machines that was almost no surprise to her. But why? That question still lacked an answer.

Anakin Skywalker ducked another wide slash as the knife darted at him again. She had lost her blaster

already, since the Dark Lord had wisely disintegrated it when she had tried to burn a hole through his chest. Her lanky black hair, cut short in a severe military style, was hanging down into her face, nearly obscuring the black patch covering her left eye. The right one-bright blue-was blazing furiously. Finally he managed to grab her wrist and twisted the weapon from her grasp. The woman grunted in pain and disappointment, but she nevertheless made a spirited effort at kicking him in the stomach.

"Easy," he told her, thanking again the general attitude that prevailed in the Coruscant underground: if it is not your business, stay out of trouble. No one had even stirred when she had attacked him in the middle of the street, and Anakin had been careful not to stay in the open too. If she had recognized him, others might too, and he did not want to have to hold back a mob.

"Let go!" Twisting madly in his arms, she tried to free herself. "Or I will tell the whole area who you are!"

"I wouldn't advise that." His voice must have had the desired tone, for she suddenly froze, her body tensing all over with dread anticipation. "What is your name?"

"Raisa Tobyn," she answered stiffly.

"Tobyn," Anakin mused aloud. "So, Raisa Tobyn, you seem to have a grudge against me, like a few billion beings more. Why should I care? I could snap your neck easily and I daresay that no one would miss you."

"Oh yeah, you are good at threats, I remember," she replied sarcastically.

"Why did you attack me? That was plain stupid. You must have known you could only lose."

"You killed my brother."

"I killed a lot of brothers. And sisters. And children and what not. Again, why do you think you can raise yourself above their relatives' grief?"

"The government is protecting you. I heard what they said a year ago, that they could control you, that you had atoned in part for the past. I don't think that's just. I think you should be dead."

"You are not alone there either. No one's been trying to kill me so far, though."

"They would have, if given the chance."

"No one argued with the government. No one stepped forward to condemn me."

"Cowards," she hissed.

"I did not hear you protest the government's decision either," the Dark Lord added quietly.

She turned her head with difficulty, trying to look him in the eye. "You aren't trying to justify yourself?"

"No. Where's the point? There is no excuse."

Her lips twisted with uncertainty.

"You brother," Anakin continued. "Was he a rebel?"

"A trooper."

"And you are?"

Raisa shrugged. "What do you care?"

"I am well aware of my deeds, of the guilt. But there is too much to do to die yet." When he could feel that she was reasonably calm, Anakin let her go. She disengaged from him and turned to face him quickly, her one eye darting to the knife lying a bit apart from them mournfully.

"Are you now? And what would be so important?"

"Everything."

Cocking her head to one side she regarded him pensively. "Are you serious? I did not think you would care."

"If I did not care, things would have turned out much differently."

"I guess you are right, in a sense." Raisa conceded slowly and folded her arms in front of her chest. "But I still think you got off too lightly."

"Lightly? I don't think so." Anakin gave her a mirthless grin. "Perhaps I can enlighten you though. If you are prepared to listen?"

When she nodded, he knew that he had won. She might not be much, but she was a beginning. Mon Mothma had deprived him of his old powerbase, or at least most of it, with only Jix and Mara independent enough to perform the tasks that needed doing without raising a fuss with Intelligence. To circumvent the restrictions placed on him, he had to build up another network. Nothing elaborate, just fitting for his purposes. Someone to get messages out for him, to run errands. The most difficult thing would be to gain the loyalty of new assets, and he suspected that Raisa would be a tough one to convince. Still, he had little doubt that he would manage in the end, and once he had her, she would be his tool to recruit others. Once that was done he would be able to evade the watching eyes of the New Republic, use the fringe for his ends. It was risky business, as Padmé had told him severely, but necessary. One day, maybe, Mon Mothma would even thank him for it. Until then, though, he had a lot of work ahead of him.

"I checked the ports. They found an abandoned ship, and that is all I can give you," Lando sighed. "Now, why don't you tell me exactly what this is about?"

"You have Abla for me?" Han asked anxiously. They had waited for three days, but no one had seen anyone who looked like Roj Kell, and all they had was an abandoned ship at one of the hangars. Great. By now Han was willing to admit that he had let himself be scared by the tales he had heard of the old man. The Corellian had been reluctant to move in any direction if there was a chance that Kell might catch on to him, but it was too urgent. Leia was in danger, and he had to find her, no matter what.

"Yes. He replied to my messages after all. You owe me an answer, buddy."

Looking into his friend's earnest face Han resigned. "All right. I suppose you've heard rumors already, but were just too tactful to ask me straight away. Leia has been kidnapped on Corellia."

"So it is true," Lando breathed. "Forgive me, my friend, but I had thought... It does not matter anymore."

"What? What did you think?" Han almost shouted.

"That this was another one of your Dark Lord's schemes, to draw out the remains of the Imperial court, the warlords. It was not?"

"No." Han was shocked by the very assumption. Surely Anakin would never use his daughter in that manner? And besides, he had been surprised by her disappearance himself, hadn't he? "He did not know," he managed at last.

"I see. All right. I will help you find your girl again, Han. What are friends for, after all?"

"Thanks, buddy."

Lando gave him one of his most winning smiles. "And now that things are clear between us, let us call Mister Othana. You want him to slice into Coronet's portfiles?"

"Yes. Maybe we can get a lead on the kidnappers that way."

"Let's do this."

.

"Yana!"

Looking up from the screen of her datapad she directed a warm smile at Abla Othana. His brown eyes were sparkling beautifully. "What is it, love?"

"Solo has established contact."

"The job? What does he want?"

"Slice into Coronet's mainframe."

"As expected. I want you to make sure he finds out who is behind the Princess' kidnapping."

"You are playing with fire if you betray your allies, Yana. This might point him your way too."

She slapped the desk hard, suddenly furious. "How dare you! I am no fool!"

"Easy, girl." Walking over, he dropped down on the sofa next to her and lay an arm around her shoulders. Yana leaned into his embrace tiredly.

"I have no choice" she said quietly. "I need them, Abla. Roganda has Magrody, she told me, and I cannot risk her knowing what I need him for. Besides, I think once we reach Yaga Minor, she'll have no uses for him any longer, and if that is the case he will die. I cannot let that happen, we need him. We will save his life in the process, see? And Solo gets his Princess back."

"What are you planning for her?"

"Roganda wants her to join her cause, but she cannot succeed."

"And you will?" he asked, sounding doubtful.

"Abla, all I want is knowledge. I don't need more power."

"The prophecies. What is so important about them?"

"I do not know yet, but we need them. And I know just the people to get them for me." Snuggling up to him contentedly she smiled. "You, my dear, will ask Solo to come here to complete the deal. Tell him what he needs to know."

"And then?"

"Then he'll perform a little job for us on Yaga Minor."

His face lit up when realization dawned. "Magrody! You want him to kidnap Magrody!"

"Clever boy," Yana teased him and placed a kiss on the tip of his nose. "That's what I like in you. You're not your typical slicer, with a head cramped from top to bottom with binary codes."

"Right now there's actually just one thing I'm thinking of," he replied with a chuckle.

"Good. I have a feeling that's just the same I have in mind myself."

"I told you this vacation would be just great," Wrenga Jixton announced with a pleased grin as he leaned back in his seat. They had found a place in one of Nar Shadaa's seedier bars, and he felt very good indeed.

"No, Jix, you said, and I quote: we can stay on Nar Shadaa until he has forgotten about that little incident on Vjun," Mara corrected him drily.

The Corellian grimaced slightly. "Okay, maybe I said that, but it is still a great vacation."

"Always the optimist."

"Hey, it wasn't my fault that the systems crashed!"

"Yeah? He did not buy your excuse though."

"It could have been a virus though."

"Or else someone sliced into the system."

"Page's people went through everything. They couldn't find any leak."

"There are slicers who don't leave traces. Incidentally one is currently here, on Nar Shadaa."

Jix sat up. "So that's why you agreed to come to Nar Shadaa! I should have known it wasn't just the climate when you said you didn't want to go to Malastare!"

"You know me, darling," Mara answered innocently, but her green eyes were twinkling with mischief.

"So, who is this slicer?"

"Abla Othana. He works for Yana Dar."

"Yana Dar?"

"Heads one of the biggest non-Huttese companies in this sector. She could rival Karrde's group, if she put her mind to it. The Pashey Club is hers."

Jix got up and held out his hand for her. "You want to go pay the lady a visit?"

"Well, it would be nice to have a bit of real fun for a change on this wonderful vacation you keep on praising so highly," she replied sarcastically, her eyebrows raised in an open challenge.

Jix grimaced slightly. So it hadn't been all that exciting, but better than stay on Coruscant, or Vjun. Vader had just wanted them to sort through his files in Bast Castle, and there were not many tasks as boring, and then a little accident had almost destroyed the computer system. Suffice to say that his lordship had not been best pleased. Jix and Mara had excused themselves a bit hurriedly, and actually the Corellian agent did not feel guilty at all about it. Vader had been nagging at them for weeks, and Jix had had enough of the Sith's constant demands. They really had needed some time off, some time alone together, some fun. Not a boring vacation. Time to change that. Performing a mocking bow he gave Mara a charming grin.

"Anything you desire, baby."

They made their way up leisurely, taking their time with enjoying the views of Nar Shadda, until they had reached the more expensive levels of the vertical city. More expensive, and more dangerous. Mara was walking the hallways unconcernedly, and she looked stunning, dressed in a black body-suit, with her mane of red hair hanging loose. Jix gave her a fond smile that she requited with a frown. "What's up?"

"Nothing. I just enjoy looking at you."

She elbowed him in the ribs. "Charming." Then she pointed ahead. "Looks like we are here."

There was a long line queuing up in front of the Pashey Club, but Jix just pushed through the crowd, ignoring the protests rising in his wake. Mara followed him quickly. The bouncer standing in front of the entrance threw one look at Jix and then waved him aside. Although a head shorter, the Corellian placed himself in front of the man and smiled.

"Excuse me, buddy, me and my girl-friend, we want to have a bit of fun in there. Heard that this is the best place to go. Nice logo, by the way."

"Your kind is not welcome here."

"Really?" Jix asked sweetly, but before he could punch the man's lights out another joined them. Tall and dressed in a black leather coat and black pants, he eyed Jix out of dark brown eyes and nodded.

"It is all right, Silen. Boss wants to see them."

"Who're you?" the Corellian asked suspiciously.

"My name is Abla Othana, Mister Jixton. Miss Jade. Please, if you would care to follow me."

Mara and Jix shared a glance, then Mara shrugged. Walking past the bouncer, they stepped into the club. The Corellian eyed the dimly lit hallway and snorted softly with disdain. "Droll," he muttered sarcastically under his breath. "Just like your little watchdog."

"Do you think I too believe that the clothes make the man, Mister Jixton?" Othana asked pleasantly.

"I hope not, 'cause that would make you an asshole," the Corellian answered quite sincerely and Mara almost choked on silent laughter at the expression appearing on the slicer's face.

"Charming. I think Yana will enjoy your company."

Yana Dar, as it turned out, was a busy lady. She made them wait for an entire hour, during which Othana tried entertaining them, but all the subtle tries to find out whether it had been him behind that incident on Vjun only turned up polite denials. While Jix did all the work, Mara was calmly sipping her drink-on the house-and kept herself busy with watching the other patrons. Jix was a little bit angry at her for that, but not for very long. No sense in wasting time on anger.

Finally they were admitted into Dar's office. It was not what he had expected. A plush sofa and cushions were spread across the red-carpeted floor, and two sleek desks completed the furnishing apart from a stylish lamp the shape of a Besom-fruit. Yana Dar herself was seated on the sofa, a smile on her face and a multi-colored drink in her left hand. Jix bet it was nothing too hard.

"Wrenga Jixton and Mara Jade," she began pleasantly. "I had heard you were on planet. A nice surprise. Please, take a seat. How can I help you?"

To Jix' mild surprise Mara took the lead. Folding her arms in front of her, she assumed an easy stance that would allow her to attack at any time, should it become necessary. "You have been expecting us?" she asked quietly.

"Yes, actually."

"Why?"

"Actually, I assumed you had heard certain rumors and would require information." Yana Dar frowned. "Your reasons are different?"

"Actually we wanted to confirm whether it was your slicer who hacked into Bast Castle. But what rumor are you referring to?"

"You do not know yet? The Minister of State has been kidnapped."

"Leia!" Jix exclaimed, startled. "We were not aware of that rumor," he added glumly, after Mara shot him an icy glare.

"I see. Well, it is no rumor anymore. There has been an official announcement today, and Mon Mothma did not sound all too happy. She's sworn to bring the kidnappers to justice and not yield to their demands."

"Demands? What do they want?" Mara asked sharply.

Yana Dar shrugged. "I know nothing of demands. But, my friends, I know something else. Something you might find useful."

"What would that be?" Narrowing his eyes a fraction, Jix tensed all over. This did not bode well.

"I know where she is."

Before the Corellian could go for his blaster Mara lay a hand on his arm soothingly. She did not let Yana Dar out her sight at all though. "I assume you want to offer a deal?"

"Exactly. To ease your minds, I do not have the Princess, but I know who does. They are not to be trifled with, but from what I hear, you two can take on them with some luck. I will give you all the information I have on the matter, but in exchange you must do something for me."

"What keeps us from obtaining that information nevertheless?" Jix growled.

"This is my turf, Jixton. If you try anything cute, you are dead. Both of you. I don't take chances, mister."

Mara squeezed his arm warningly and Jix subsided. Holstering his weapon again, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and waited. Again Mara spoke: "I would hear your proposal, Yana Dar. What do you want us to do?"

The other woman's face lit up with delight as she activated the holo console installed into the desk next to her. A forbidding planet appeared on the screen. "I knew you'd be reasonable after all. Do you know this world, Mara Jade?"

The former Emperor's Hand nodded. "Byss. I know where it is."

"Have you ever been there in person?"

"No."

"A shame. My information on the place is incomplete, but I will give you what little I have. There is something in the Emperor's treasury that I want very much. A holocron."

"What?" Jix exclaimed. "Why would you want a-"

"Jix, let me do the talking, all right?" Mara told him sweetly. "But his question is justified. Why do you want that holocron."

"A collector's item, no more, perhaps of some historical value."

"Really? The holocrons in the late Emperor's collection rarely were of any historical value, excepting the history and teachings of the Jedi."

Yana Dar spread her hands in a soothing gesture. "Rest assured it is nothing like that. Now, this is the deal: the holocron for the whereabouts of the Princess. And you can walk out of here alive."

Mara gave Jix a long, calculating look. "It is a deal," she said at last.

"Good!" Bounding to her feet, Yana Dar extended her hand to seal their bargain and Mara took it gingerly. "I am pleased that we could come to an agreement. I assume you have transport? Abla will provide you with the information you need. I must thank you again, Mara, Mister Jixton. And I wish you good luck."

Mara was very pensive when they walked back to the small apartment they had rented here. She did not believe a word Yana Dar had told them, except for one thing: she knew where the Princess was. At her side Jix was equally silent, undoubtedly as lost in thought as she was. She could pick up his uneasiness, and a hint of anger too. Was he really mad at her because she had entered that deal? She did not understand why he would be, their vacation had not been so glorious after all.

"Jix, don't sulk. This will be more fun than hanging around Nar Shadaa. Besides, you were the one who didn't want a boring life, as far as I recall."

"Give an old man a break," he mumbled. "What do you make of this?"

"The holocron?" Mara snorted softly. "She was lying."

"I agree. But what would she want with just one Jedi holocron?"

Mara gave him a long look. "She's Force-sensitive. Not much potential, but well-honed abilities, as far as I could tell. We should tell his lordship."

He gave her a surprised look. "A Force-user? Her? She seemed to be such a nice girl-"

"Jix!"

He sighed. "I guess we can risk making contact now that we're going off to Byss anyway. All right. Let's call him."

The comm blared at full volume, waking Anakin and Padmé from deep slumber. It had been a long day, and both were exhausted, yet he rose with a sigh, told Padmé to stay put, and ambled over to the comm console in the living-room.

"It is very early in the morning. Make it quick, all right?"

"Hey, Uncle Dee," a familiar voice said in an annoyingly cheerful tone.

"Jix. I should not be surprised, I guess. Do you know what time it is here?"

"No, and frankly I don't care. Listen, we have big news. We have a lead on the Princess."

"What?" Suddenly wide-awake he felt relief sweep through his body in hot waves. "You have found her?"

"Not exactly. We have found someone who claims to know where she is being held, knows who is behind this. We made a deal. All we have to do is do a little house-breaking on Byss. Then she'll give us the info."

"Who is your contact?"

"Yana Dar."

"Her? What does she want from Byss?"

"A holocron, apparently."

"Highly intriguing. Yana Dar, you say? Hm. All right. The mission is granted. But be very careful. Byss is not a holiday resort. Report once you have what she wants."

"Sure thing, boss. See you around."

Deactivating the comm Anakin sat down heavily on the couch, his eyes fixed into the distance.

"Anakin?" Padmé called sleepily. "What is it?"

"That was Jix. He might uncover something about Leia." He could hear her move on the bed. Probably she had sat up.

"Are they sure about this?"

"Jix sounded pretty confident, but then, he always does. On the other hand we needn't worry too much should their lead turn up dry. Han is on her trail too, after all."

"One of them will get to her," she said, but with little conviction.

"Yes. I hope so."

There was silence from the bed-room. Then: "Anakin, did Karrde check back in?"

"He is supposed to send his reports to Chi'in first, remember?"

"What if Chi'in is off somewhere?"

"Deron or Puket can get the news back to me too, no problem."

Padmé heaved a loud sigh. "I hate waiting," she announced.

Rising from his seat, Anakin went back into the bed-room. "I am worried too, my love. But we will get them, one way or the other, you'll see."

Preceding her into the room, Erinin made an okay-sign and Roganda went in after him. She was still a bit shocked over what Yana Dar had revealed to her, but it also gave her hope. Irek was waiting for her, sprawled on the sofa, watching a holoshow. When she entered he barely raised his head to acknowledge her.

"Did you have fun?" he grumbled, returning his gaze to the screen.

"Fun?" Propping her hands on her hips Roganda gave her son a withering glare that he failed to notice. She shook her head and swept around the sofa to sit down beside him. "Irek, I am doing this for you. You know that, don't you?"

"Sure. Thanks."

Roganda's lips twisted in disdain. "Erinin, would you please leave us?" The bodyguard nodded sharply and went, closing the door behind him. Once he was gone, Irek sat up, obviously expecting a lecture on obedience. There had been enough in the past, Roganda thought guiltily. But why did he have to be so head-strong? "How are your exercises proceeding?" she asked quietly.

"Magrody is satisfied," he answered vaguely, not quite meeting her eye. "But I suppose we won't know for certain until we have reached Yaga Minor."

So he had thought about the plan. Good. "It requires a lot of concentration. I want you to focus your exercises on that."

"Okay."

"Did you talk to the Princess?"

"No, why should I?"

She eyed him doubtfully. "Don't lie to me, Irek."

"Mother," he said calmly, "I am no child any longer."

Hugging him on impulse, she smiled and buried her head against his shoulder affectionately. "I know, Irek, I know," she told him. "I promise I will treat you like an adult when you show me that you can take responsibility and take your duty seriously."

"Duty!" he roared and rose abruptly, freeing himself of her embrace. "That's all you ever talk about! What about me? What about my wants and wishes? I always do what you tell me, Mother! Always! But what for? What?"

Composing herself in the face of his accusations was difficult, but Roganda managed. She drew herself up stiffly, meeting his blue eyes without effort. "You are someone very special, Irek. Being special brings a lot of responsibility with it, and you cannot escape your destiny by running from that. You are what you are, and nothing can change that. If you accept your fate, things will become a lot easier for you."

"And for you, am I right?" he hissed. "No temper tantrums, no sulking, just your little boy who does everything you tell him to without question. I have had enough, Mother."

"Enough of what?" a cheerful voice asked from the doorway. Roganda jumped in surprise, while Irek whirled around, a snarl marring his young features, and struck at the newcomer through the Force. Yana Dar stumbled back into the corridor and the door slammed shut in front of her. Staring at her son in horror Roganda could only shake her head.

"Irek!" she breathed at last. "You cannot loose your temper like that!"

"Really? I just did, Mother. And it was quite easy."

Scrambling to her feet, Roganda gritted her teeth as she darted past him to check on her ally. The information broker was very pale when the door opened again, her blue eyes wide with disbelief. But when her gaze fell on Irek, anger flashed across her features quick as lightning.

"Just like your father," she snapped as she strode into the room, shaking the previous attack off with a shrug. "Resort to threats when arguments fail." Mustering Irek from top to bottom she sniffed in disdain. "I thought you would be better than that."

Roganda could see the effects Yana Dar's words had on her son most clearly. He frowned at the woman at first, then a faint smile appeared on his lips to be replaced by sternness. Roganda hid a small smile carefully. Perhaps Yana shared more with her own father than she wanted to realize.

"I am not a despot," Irek told Yana haughtily.

"Really? Then you will keep in mind that only despots treat their surroundings with disrespect."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Yana Dar, little brother," she answered with a bright smile.

Irek made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. "Brother?"

"Half-brother, really," the information broker replied and pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I guess by your looks you tend more to your mother's side of the family." She grinned. "Lucky boy. Now," turning toward Roganda she gave her a questioning glance. "Before we leave, do you want to introduce me to the Princess?"

Leia followed Roganda's one-eyed bodyguard quietly. She could sense the growing excitement among the crew and guessed that it meant they were leaving again. When Magrody had revealed the truth to her, she had discarded all thoughts of escape. This was too important to leave unobserved. No doubt that staying was the more dangerous choice, but Leia had learned long ago that fear was the cause for mental paralysis, and that she could not afford right now. Before she could inform the New Republic, she had to find out what Roganda was planning for her son. Although the Princess could hazard an educated guess, she could feel that there was more behind this than just a mother's ambitions for her child.

"In here," Erinin ordered quietly. She went into the room first, with him following at her heels, and was not surprised to find Roganda and Irek waiting for her together. But there was someone else with them this time. A slender woman with dark blonde curls and clear blue eyes, who was smiling when the Princess entered.

"Your highness," Roganda began pleasantly. "May I introduce to you a dear friend, Yana Dar." For some reason Irek started grinning.

"It is a pleasure," Yana added. "I have heard such a lot about you, Princess. Only good things, of course."

"Of course," Leia echoed. "I have to admit that I have never heard of you until now."

"No wonder. I do not advertise myself or my organization. And I believe that you have no interest in sullying your reputation by siding with the likes of me."

Leia smiled coldly. "If it suits my purposes, I might. Now that the introductions are over, maybe you would care to enlighten me about the goal of this undertaking?"

"All you need to know for now," Roganda explained, "is that we are leaving for Yaga Minor as we speak, to meet a few old friends."

"Friends?"

"Yes."

"Do they know about your son's special abilities?"

"What special abilities?"

"Come on, you did not truly believe that you could keep anything from me, did you?"

Roganda looked faintly surprised, but Yana Dar smiled slowly. "She talked to Magrody. Foolish of you to leave him aboard with her, my friend. But I do not think this is a great loss, she would have learned sooner or later, am I right?"

"Of course," Roganda admitted. "On Yaga Minor at the latest."

"So you might as well tell me now what you are planning," Leia injected quickly.

"Not yet," Roganda replied.

"Why not?" her son snapped. "She thinks she's so clever, but she does not know everything."

"Irek," Yana Dar began quietly, "do not confuse ignorance with stupidity. The Princess is very clever and if you want this plan to work, you had best not give her anything to be clever about."

The youth gave Leia an appraising look, then nodded. "You are right," he said at last, but there was a hint of annoyance, or maybe resentment, in his tone that Leia could not quite understand.

Then, though, she saw the hidden smile on Roganda's lips and her mind gushed with ice water. What if Irek himself did not know? Had he just tried to goad his mother into an admission? That would fit in well with the tension she had felt between mother and son previously. Roganda apparently was keeping some things back from Irek too. Leia wanted to shout with joy. This was a weakness to exploit. But the question was who to work on, Roganda or the boy. Of course, Roganda had had a life-time of experience with scheming at Palpatine's court. Perhaps it would be better to take on her son after all.

Marten Anderland ambled into the sprawling maze of back-offices of the Pashey Club absent-mindedly. He had been working on the Seeker all day long, and he needed a break. Apart from that the last job Yana had made him do was nagging at his conscience. What was she trying to accomplish by that? Better not to question her too closely. He made his way to the small snack bar, hoping that a nice, hot Jeha tea would soothe his nerves. But when he passed Abla's office, his ears idly picked up a snatch of conversation that made him stop dead in his tracks. Hugging the wall next to the doorway, he tried to listen.

"...on her way, Grand Admiral," Abla was saying. "She won't give you any trouble, I suspect." There was a long silence, and Marten guessed that whoever Abla was talking to had a lengthy response to that assumption.

"No," Abla said at last. "I would not advise that, sir. She is the one with the connections. I get my information from her, after all. The data I gave you from Bast Castle was satisfactory? Glad to hear it."

Again a pause. Marten leaned a little bit closer.

Suddenly the door slid open and he found himself being dragged into the room beyond. "So," Abla Othana hissed. "Marten Anderland. You should have stayed with your program, sunshine."

"Abla, what-"

"Sorry, buddy, no witnesses, no traces. Nar Shadaa is a dangerous city," the slicer continued right over him, and to Marten's horror he was waving a blaster around, the weapon's muzzle outfitted with

a silencer.

"No," he whispered, his body drained of all energy, as if his fear had sucked all of his willpower out of his mind. "No."

"Don't worry. This will not hurt one bit."

The Executor dropped out of hyperspace a few clicks away from Niaruan, her escort of six Star Destroyers flanking the giant ship in perfect unison. Seated in his command chair, Grand Admiral Thrawn nodded toward the comm officer.

"Establish contact with the base. I want to know what is going on. Cronn, tell Captain Palleon to relieve the base's patrol ships."

"Yes, sir," both men chorused and went about their tasks.

So, Luke Skywalker and Nuron Sarin, just the pair he needed, or rather, that Chi'in needed. The Noghri had been planning on a scouting trip for weeks now, but he had been reluctant to actually leave. But he had told Thrawn that he was waiting for reinforcements, that he had contacted the Dark Lord about the strange happenings in the Unknown Territories. Good. While Thrawn had not really expected Vader to show up himself, he had believed it highly plausible that he would send his son in his place. In some ways the younger Skywalker was the better choice, calmer, more cautious, and above all unbiased.

"Sir? I have the Admiral on the line for you," the comm officer told him quietly.

"Good. Put him through. Admiral Parck, I would hear your report now," he continued, when he accepted the call.

"Nothing new on the home front, sir," the familiar voice of his second-in-command answered drily.

"What news from the Republic?"

"Skywalker brought a few datacards, confidential. They are waiting here for you."

"And Skywalker himself?"

"Chi'in took him and Sarin out a few days ago. I assume they will be a while. Chi'in did not make any promises as to when they will be back."

"I see. Anything else?"

"Puket has news for you, also confidential. She was pretty excited about it. Important, too, I assume."

"Probably. Any report from Naas Deron?"

"Nothing."

"Good. We will be with you shortly. Meet me in my office."

"Yes, sir."

Disconnecting the call, the Grand Admiral watched as the six Star Destroyers veered away to replace the ships patrolling the close perimeter. Palleon's Chimaera was leading them, and Thrawn knew that the Captain would not need further instructions. He would put part of his crews on leave to go dirt-side, should they want it, leaving them to relax a bit from weeks of maneuvers and patrol duty in Wild Space.

Thrawn did not react when Cronn joined him again.

"I have felt a disturbance," the Falleen said quietly, "very faint, but unmistakably Dark Side."

"There is no other Sith out there I should know about, is there?" the Grand Admiral asked just as quietly.

"No."

"Good. We will join Admiral Parck and get an update. Then we will decide whether to investigate this further."

"Yes, sir."

"Please see to it that my shuttle is prepared."

"At once."

A few hours later the shuttle landed on one of the base's main landing pads. Cronn was the second to exit over the landing ramp, wearing his confidence like a shield. Officially the Falleen was the Grand Admiral's aide, but it was one of his duties to act as bodyguard too. So far he had not had to act in that position, luckily, but Thrawn was certain that sooner or later it would happen. He trusted Cronn's abilities, both as his aide and as a warrior and so he stepped onto the permacrete unconcernedly, looking forward to Parck's report.

As it was, though, his patience was not shared by others. Puket ran up to him, her lekkus twitching with excitement. The Grand Admiral suppressed a tiny sigh. The young Twi'lek could use a bit of the calm Cronn and Chi'in had.

"Yes?" he asked when she came to a stop in front of him.

"News, sir. From Talon Karrde. Please, I think it is very urgent. If you could-"

He held up a hand to quiet her. "Calm down, please. Why do you think it is urgent?"

"Well, it says 'confidential', sir."

"Really. What if I tell you that Admiral Parck has an entire stack of datacards waiting for me, also marked confidential?"

She regarded him with a slightly bewildered expression. Finally she answered with a slight frown: "Because my information came in only yesterday and Admiral Parck has had his datacards for a few days? My information could change what news he has."

"Very good." The Grand Admiral smiled down at her. "Then we will see to your piece of news first."

It was not good news, that was for certain. Frowning at the message, Thrawn was alternating between wanting to curse and to sigh. So, Roj Kell was alive, and he was up to something with the Hutts. And Karrde was coming here, to seal some deal with him.

"What orders do you have in regards to this?" he asked Puket quietly.

"I am to relay it to Lord Vader-I mean, Lord Skywalker. Encrypted."

"Then do that immediately. How can I reach Chi'in?"

"Not at all. He will contact you if it is urgent."

"Will he now," the Grand Admiral growled. It was infuriating that the Noghri refused to submit to his command. Chi'in did whatever he wanted, without bothering to keep Thrawn posted. There would have to be some serious words this time, definitely. "Very well. You have your orders, Puket. I am going to see if Admiral Parck has anything more pleasant to report."

Lying on her bunk, Leia was wracking her brain futilely. So, Irek could control mechanics, which meant he might even be able to control a ship. That might become dangerous, but she doubted that he could control more than one ship, or maybe two; but she was almost certain that the New Republic fleet could handle anything like that. What would be far more dangerous was some unexplained accident in bio labs or something similar.

What was the plan? Why Yaga Minor? What friends were waiting there? Former members of the court? What could they have that Roganda wanted? They did not rule what was left of the Empire, the warlords did, as far as she knew. Certainly credits played a big role here; still, that did not answer the why. Not knowing was almost driving her insane.

Her head came up when she picked up a presence approaching her cabin. Irek. A smile appeared on her lips as she got up. Just perfect. He strode into the cabin like a king, all pride and haughtiness, and his lanky form moved with a grace that Leia again found familiar. She cocked her head to one side, directing a questioning glance at him.

"How may I help you?"

Icy blue eyes regarded her with indifference. "Not me, Princess. My mother wants something of you. She will not tell me though."

"I am so sorry for you," she replied with a small, knowing smile. "But I fear I cannot enlighten you."

"Actually I think differently."

"What do you mean?"

Irek walked over to her with three long steps. "It is quite easy, Princess. You have something my mother wants, and I intend to deny her that."

"Wha-!" The last thing she saw were his eyes, and as her mind plunged toward dark oblivion, Leia had a very disturbing vision. She saw Irek, his black hair flowing down over his shoulders, his slender form dressed in black Sith robes. When he noticed her looking at him, he smiled slowly, a predatory smile that, as she realized with horror, she had indeed seen before. No! Not him! And then she was gone.

"Did you feel that?" Belana raised her head from where it had rested quite comfortably on Kell's shoulder, her eyes trying to penetrate the gloom surrounding them. She could sense that he was awake too, and when she looked down on his face she saw that his eyes were open.

"Yes," he answered at last. "A disturbance in the Force."

"What does it mean?"

"I told you there was a storm coming," he said in a quiet voice, like cool silver light on a the flat surface of a tranquil sea.

"You mean..."

"Yes. It has begun."

TBC

Chapter 2 - The Making of Plans

Waking up from deep slumber, Leia tried to work some moisture back into her mouth. She scanned her surroundings thoroughly, even though there was not much to see. A nondescript room with a narrow bunk, a small window that showed her starlines streaming by, a fresher stall and a door. Shaking her head to get rid of the dizziness that still remained, Leia sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bunk to rise. Her stomach rumbled at her demandingly. She got to her feet gingerly, feeling as if she were balancing on a thin rail above a black abyss. It felt strange, but she put it down to the after-effects of the stun bolt, and maybe some mild drug. Nothing she could not handle.

Her eyes sought the bunk again longingly, but she refused to give in to weakness. Instead she walked over to the window and leaned her head against it. Reaching out to the stars, the way her father had shown her, she made herself feel them, feel the invisible field connecting them. He had claimed that it was possible to touch the Force anywhere, if one only knew how to listen properly, and right now Leia was smiling as she let it fill her consciousness, washing away her weariness. Would she be able to call out to her friends and family? Would Luke be able to hear her? Her father? She tried, forming words in her mind. Luke! Father! There was no reply. Perhaps they were too far away.

Her mind open to the Force and her surroundings she picked up the presence approaching easily. He was nervous in an absent-minded sort of way, and his thoughts seemed to be drifting in several directions at once. Turning toward the door Leia composed herself, wondering if she looked as regal and calm as she felt. She wore her confidence like a shield, but when the door opened she was almost disappointed to see that it was only Nasdra Magrody. The elderly man looked at her in confusion, then gave her a small, friendly smile.

"They said I was to bring you to their quarters," he began in a soft, slurred voice. Leia winced. He was obviously drugged.

"Lead the way," she answered coolly and nodded at him. He turned around and started walking down the hallway. Following him, Leia studied the corridor closely. She could try to get to an escape pod or something, of course, but while they were in hyperspace, any attempt to flee would be useless anyway. Suppressing a sigh, the princess tried her best to scour her memory for any ship type with a set-up like this one had. None came to mind during their short trip.

"We are here," Magrody announced suddenly, stopping in front of a cabin door that opened immediately. Leia recognized the woman who sat on her chair like a queen, a slender boy at her side. The black hair and fair skin made him her son. His blue eyes though were a stark contrast to her almost black gaze, and they were far colder than hers. Stepping into the cabin, Leia smiled in imitation of her father. He always managed to upset people that way.

"Thank you, professor," the woman said sweetly. "That will be all." She waited until Magrody had disappeared again, closing the door behind him. "Princess, it is an honor to have you with us."

"Maybe you will tell me now who you are and what you want from me?" Leia asked calmly, refusing to acknowledge fear or anxiety.

"Of course. You do not recognize me, do you?"

"Should I know you?"

"Perhaps. We have not been formally introduced. My name is Roganda Ismaren, and this is my son, Irek."

Leia stared. Roganda Ismaren? She remembered her now, one of Palpatine's concubines, met at one court function or other. Leia had been a girl back then, attending those functions at her father's side, usually, and she had had no interest in making the acquaintance of that exquisite group of women that had always seemed to cluster together, watching the others watch them, like some strange, exotic creatures. Her son? Leia's eyes narrowed as she studied the boy more closely. She estimated him two years younger than herself, but there was a darkness about him she found unsettling. Suddenly it came to her. He was Force-sensitive. Well, if his father was who Roganda's past hinted at, this should not have come as a surprise. Palpatine's heir? Maybe. Leia' mind was racing with the possibilities. But then she stopped herself again. Why speculate when Roganda was right there to answer her questions?

"I remember you," she said at last. "And perhaps I should not be surprised that you chose to abandon Coruscant before the Alliance conquered it."

"That was no conquest, my dear. It was a treasonous plot designed by your father and the Grand Admiral. Surprised? I know who you are, and what you are," Roganda countered coolly.

Leia shook her head. "Why should I be surprised? This has been public knowledge for the past months. I know your kind. I have to deal with them every day. I have heard far worse than this." She smiled again. "So, what do you want? Your son to take his rightful place as Emperor?" The boy gave a soft snort and his mother shot him an icy glare that told Leia a lot of things.

"You may mock me as you wish, Princess, but I am not alone with my views. There are many who still believe in the Empire."

"And many more who curse the Emperor's memory. Whatever you are planning, Roganda Ismaren, you can only fail."

"On the contrary." Reclining in her chair the small woman was smiling warmly. "My son will take what is his, and no one will be able to stop him. Not you, nor your father."

"So it is him you are afraid of? I should have known this was your reason for kidnapping me."

"An insurance, in a sense, yes. But rest assured that we will not harm you more than necessary. Perhaps, when you know everything, you will even come to understand our cause. And join it."

Leia laughed out loud. "Your master has taught you well, Roganda Ismaren. But if even he could not convince me, I doubt you can."

Those black eyes flashed with fury for a second. "We shall see about that, your Highness. Very soon."

"This is unfortunate," Mon Mothma was saying. "I never should have allowed her to leave on that vacation."

"She is her own woman," Padmé countered mildly.

"And Minister of State," the other woman insisted. They were seated together in the president's office, the tea growing cold in the cups standing on the desk in front of them. Mon Mothma sighed. "I have had Admiral Piett recall the Liberty before he left. He agreed with your husband. If Corellia is involved in this conspiracy, they might have taken the ship's presence as a hostile act and an excuse to refuse any talks with us."

"We do not know if it is a conspiracy yet. Anakin is preparing an investigation, but I fear he does not know where to start."

"What does Page say?"

"He is following Anakin in this. He's the schemer, after all. Once the course is clear, Page will take over."

"A schemer," Mon Mothma mused aloud. "Yes. He is well, I hope?"

"He is holding on to his temper, yes. But he is as worried as I am, maybe even more so."

"I understand. I am worried too, and not only because of Leia's disappearance."

That got Padmé's attention. "Is there something we should know?"

"No, not yet. It is the same your husband has warned me of when we founded this government. The war has not changed anything. The Core worlds might support us, but only because they were hit the hardest. A few others, like Chandrila and its neighbors, are with us too. The rest though..."

Padmé smiled. "So Piett isn't going on vacation, but on a diplomatic mission, am I right?"

The other woman nodded. "I see I did well in making you Senior Analyst for Internal Affairs."

"Then you should trust me far enough to keep me informed about such things." Padmé saw the uncertainty flicker in Mon Mothma's eyes. "You are worried that I would tell my husband?"

"To be honest, yes. This might sound foolish, but I always feel that he is measuring me by his standards, and I cannot match those. So, if I am to do my job properly, I have to make sure he knows as little as possible about what I am planning."

"Why can't you just accept his advice?" Padmé asked quietly.

Giving her an incredulous look Mon Mothma shook her head. "Because then I might as well admit that he is running the New Republic. I won't do that, Your Highness. I gave a promise to the people, and that includes protecting them from your husband. No, let me finish," she said when Padmé opened her mouth to protest. "I know your husband to some extent, I believe, but most still see a tyrant in him, a butcher, who is still alive purely on sufferance, and because he has atoned for the past by helping us win the war. He will not ever manage to shed that reputation, no matter what he does. Maybe the next generation, or the one after, will be able to give him credit for what he has gone through, what he has endured to achieve peace, but our history will be written in the future, and right now Darth Vader is still alive in the minds of everyone."

"Force help me, I know," Padmé whispered, tears in her eyes. "I wish it weren't so. But you must trust his expertise. You did so in the past, and he has not disappointed you."

Mon Mothma gave her a gentle smile. "You do not understand. I am President of the New Republic. This is my war now, not his. He has done what he could, but now we need others to take over. I have the support of the navy, I know, but they will not be needed in the battles to come. Those will be fought on a diplomatic level. I need you, your daughter, your son even. Mediators, not warriors." She leaned forward and placed a hand lightly on Padmé's forearm. "Will you tell him that?"

She swallowed hard, then nodded. "I will." Anakin would not be pleased. Not pleased at all.

They had left Yavin behind weeks ago, but Belana was suddenly not certain anymore if she had achieved anything there at all. Her eyes were dark with sorrow as she gazed out over the battle-field that went on for miles and miles. She turned her head to look at the tall man standing at her side in the cramped cockpit of the small yacht he had stolen from Coruscant what seemed like years ago.

"Was that necessary?" she asked quietly.

"Yes." He did not look at her.

"Why?"

"There is no 'why', Belana. I do what I feel is right."

"You killed I don't know many out there. What has that got to do with respect for life?" She was trying hard not to start shaking with the magnitude of what he had just done. Had she misjudged him? If so, she had unleashed a monster on this galaxy that no one would be able to stop.

He sighed deeply. "You do not understand."

"No." Belana shook her head firmly. "It is you who does not understand. You told me that you want to return to your duties, that you want to remember life over survival, that you would respect it."

She almost screamed when he seized her very suddenly, holding her head in his hands, his pale green eyes locked with hers. "You are a Jedi, Belana. You do not understand death at all. And don't give me that crap about there being no death, only the Force. If that were so you would not try to protect life at all costs."

"Let go," she said very calmly, but inside she was seething with outrage. He had admitted his errors, had realized his mistakes, only to return to his old self again as if nothing had happened, as if none of it mattered at all.

"It does matter, Belana. You reminded me that there was more to survival than I remembered, that feelings play an important role since they spark the desire for survival, the will to go on. You are no survivor, Belana. You would let your enemies strike you down for fear of falling to the Dark Side. You have forgotten the joy of being alive, the joy of pure being. You have given up part of yourself, just as I did."

"I respect life, Kell, and if I were under attack I would defend myself, just as I would protect the defenseless."

"Then don't judge me!" he roared. His right hand slipped around her neck and pushed her toward the viewport. Belana gasped in indignation. He should not be able to manhandle her like this, but somehow the most basic rules of physics did not apply to him. "Watch," he ordered coldly and flung out his left hand toward the wreckage outside. Belana did not know how long it took, but once the images faded and he let go of her again, tears were streaming down her cheeks. Seeking his cold-eyed gaze, she shook her head in denial.

"That is not right," she managed at last.

"It is life, Belana. Life hurts sometimes, and to respect life means to respect death too. Death itself is not evil."

"You are making this too easy, my friend," Belana whispered. "You cannot justify those deaths with the future. Would you kill a child just because he might turn into a murderer someday? Where do you take that right from?"

"I would never harm a child, no matter what it might become."

"Kell," she shook her head again, this time in sorrow. She understood now why he had become so cold, why he had shielded himself with logic and reason, had locked up his emotions so tightly that they became part of someone else, someone distant. No living mind could cope with this knowledge otherwise. Once upon a time his innocence and ignorance had been his sole protection, the only one he had needed. But with all that had happened, how could he stand this without going mad in the process? Could he finish his journey at all?

"I know what you are thinking," he said suddenly, interrupting her thoughts mercilessly.

"Really?"

"Yes. Here's a proposal: from this day on I will follow your advice, but under one condition."

"What condition is that?"

"You know now what I am, what my purpose is. I want you to keep that in mind. You promised to stay with me to the end, but I can only finish this if you let me do what I must. Do you agree?"

She nodded numbly. "I agree. Then I will be your conscience when you forget yourself. But don't expect me to share your view."

"I never would," he answered mildly, and for a moment Belana found herself wishing that she had killed him all those years ago.

As expected, Marten Anderland did not understand the reason for her request, but Yana did not care as long as he got the job done. Seated on the sofa, she gave him a level look that should have shown him what she thought of his protests, but the slicer was not very quick on the uptake sometimes. Fidgeting with his hands, he shrugged uncomfortably, but his face betrayed his emotions clearly.

"It's just not right, boss," he said again.

"But you can do it."

"Yes, of course -"

"Then why are we holding this discussion, Marten? I am just asking you to hack into the Coruscant Mainframe. That's a piece of cake, as you yourself assured me just a moment ago."

"But planting false information... It just isn't right."

"No one will get harmed by that. Much. The same cannot be said of you if you don't get going right now." She arched an eyebrow meaningfully. "Clear?"

"Yes, boss. Clear," he sighed and his shoulders slumped in quiet defeat. Yana suppressed a smile. Marten was an expert slicer, but he had no backbone, none at all. Which was why she did not tell him anything beyond what his tasks were.

"Good. On your way out you can tell Abla that I want to see him at once. And tell Sharam that she can get me another drink."

"Sure." Walking away dejectedly Marten was the very impersonation of hurt.

Shaking her head at his retreating back, Yana Dar rose from her seat. She had been cooped up in here for far too long already. It was time for her to have some fun, but perhaps there was a way to combine fun with the work she still had to do.

Sharam, her Twi'lek servant, came bustling in and left a tray with a pitcher and glasses on the table. A moment later Abla came in, dark eyes looking at her in a silent question. Yana pursed her lips thoughtfully as the door closed behind him.

"Anything I can do for you?" he asked softly.

"Yes." Walking over to him she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him closer. "You will get an offer for a job to perform on Corellia. You will accept it."

"Corellia?" he sounded surprised. "You want me to go to Corellia?"

"No, dummy, I want you to get that job done. Ten thousand credits worth, I believe. All yours."

"Wow. Sounds like a treat." Abla was smiling now, and his joy was infectious. Yana laughed.

"Yes, it does." Snuggling against him she closed her eyes. "But alas you will be on your own in this. Our guests are arriving tomorrow and I will be leaving with them for Yaga Minor soon. I hope you don't mind."

"As long as you stay out of trouble, girl."

"Don't worry." She sighed as he started kissing her shoulders tenderly. "Have you made any progress in tracking down Magrody?"

"Not yet. I have made inquiries that might turn up some leads eventually."

"Eventually. Maybe I will find out something tomorrow. We need him."

"I know."

The door slid open almost noiselessly, and Yana growled deep in her throat, angry at the unwelcome intrusion. "Sharam," she snapped as she caught sight of the alien woman over Abla's shoulder. "What is it?"

"His Exalted Highness Joral requires your presence, mistress," the Twi'lek answered demurely, her eyes cast to the floor.

"Does he now," Yana muttered under her breath. "Very well. Six hours. Tell him that."

"Yes, mistress."

Once she had disappeared again Abla's eyes darkened. "What does that Hutt slime want now?"

"I have no idea yet," she replied cautiously. She had her suspicions though. It was no secret that the Hutts were aiming at building their own little Empire, and Joral had dealt with her often enough to have some clue as to how extensive her network really was. With her headquarters in his proximity he had a good position in making claims to being her most-favored customer. He might be useful, but dangerous too. Well, she simply would have to be careful then. Giving Abla a slow smile, she traced her index finger along his jaw gently. "Would you help me get dressed?"

Five hours later she stepped down the landing ramp of her personal yacht Firebird, accompanied only by Sharam. Abla had insisted she take some guards with her, but Yana knew how to play on the Hutt's vanity. He would like seeing her helpless and deferential, and she would give him just that. As long as

he thought her knowledge useful, he would not harm her, that she was sure of. His majordomo, a fat Twi'lek by the name of Haman, was waiting for her amidst a contingent of Gammorean guards. Yana raised her eyebrows in surprise, but did not comment.

"His Exalted Highness Joral sends his greetings, Mistress Dar," Haman began, his oily voice as disgusting as ever. He was ogling her openly, and that in itself was even more of an outrage. True, she had chosen her attire for complimenting her figure, but that was for Joral, not his lackeys. Well, Joral would learn of this. Nodding carefully she gave Haman her coldest stare.

"I thank his Highness. Why the escort? Have things turned that bad on Nal Hutta?"

"Not at all. But his Highness wants to extend his courtesy to you, as he would to any ambassador."

"How thoughtful of him." Yana smiled. "Then my thanks must be tenfold. If you would take me to him now?"

"Of course. Transport is waiting outside."

Han Solo was putting on his best face as he was put through to Baron-administrator Calrissian. Who would have thought that a man like Lando would become respectable one day? Lando was a con-man, or had been when he was younger, but apparently he had now decided to do something for his retirement after all. At last the still image of the Bespin Corporation's logo dissolved into the baron's darkly handsome face. He gave Han a long look before he nodded.

"Good to see you again, Han, although it comes a bit of a surprise."

"Really? Well, I thought I might want to say hello."

"And spend a mass of credits on a long-distance hypercomm call? Encrypted, as I notice. What's up?"

Han scowled at him. "Well, since we are done with the pleasantries, I need your help."

"My help? Who's been running across the galaxy playing hero with Chewbacca? No, my friend, I am too old for this."

"Listen, it is urgent."

"Government job?" Lando asked suspiciously.

"No, personal."

"Oh," his friend brightened up. "What happened?"

"That's kinda what I wanted to ask you. Can we meet someplace private?"

"Where are you?"

"On my way in."

"In?" Lando frowned at something off the screen. "I see. Always good for nasty surprises. I'll have someone escort you over. Is that the Falcon?"

"Of course," Han replied, scandalized. "Think I would exchange her for any other ship?"

"Make your request and I might make you an offer," Lando said with a grin.

"No way. The Falcon's mine," the Corellian growled.

"We'll see for how long. See you later, Han."

So Han found himself following Bespin Security Patrolboats into the cloud-ridden atmosphere of the planet. The sun was playing along the white mist rising from the gas mines, and the gas itself magnified the different hues of the light. It was a magnificent view, and Cloud City, the planet's only major town, rose into the sky like something unreal. It floated on repulsors above the surface, a gigantic umbrella that shone in metallic gray and white as the Falcon drew closer. Han was smiling despite himself. This truly looked like a magical place. And perhaps here he would find the assistance he needed to get Leia back.

Settling the ship down on one of the city's landing pads, he exited cautiously. No one was waiting for him. He closed in on the blast doors, feeling slightly uneasy. Lando was not exactly a good friend. He had been, a long time ago, but so much had happened that Han could not be sure if he would help him. He could hardly turn back now, though. He had to try, for Leia's sake.

The door slid open to reveal a bald-headed human who turned out to be a cyborg on second glance. A blinking interface module encircled the back of his head from ear to ear and he gave Han an expressionless look before he turned around, apparently wanting the Corellian to follow.

Walking through the bright hallways of Cloud City, Han felt strangely elated. It was beautiful - truly so. People were milling along the corridors inside and generous walkways outside, a mix that appealed to Han. They all looked peaceful enough. Lando probably did not allow any thugs in Cloud City. They crossed a domed plaza that sported rows upon rows of balconies seemingly reaching up into the sky and groups of people dotted the square, talking among themselves, haggling, perhaps. They certainly had the air of traders. The Corellian grinned to himself. Lando was probably finding some ways of relieving them of their credits. You could take the con-man out of the fringe, but the con-man remained.

Then a piece of conversation drifted over, almost making Han stop dead in his stride.

"... know that as well as you do. The question is, how is Joral dealing with it?"

It were not the words themselves, but the voice. Deep and resonant, it seemed designed to captivate the attention of any listener. Han had heard it only once before, and that one time had been enough to never let him forget the owner of that voice. Roj Kell.

Turning his head carefully he threw a quick glance over the crowd, and he thought he could make out someone in the back, a tall man with long, white hair, but then the cyborg had already led him out of the chamber again. Han suppressed a shiver. Kell was dead, or so he had believed. He would have to ask Lando if he knew anything. And he needed to warn the Republic. There was no telling what the old man was up to, if that really had been him, if he really was alive.

The cyborg entered a turbo-lift, waiting for Han to join him. They went three levels up and found themselves in another hallway, this one empty. The cyborg gestured toward a tall door and nodded. Han went ahead and pressed the door controls.

"Han." Looking up from his desk Lando Calrissian gave him a warm smile. "It's been a long time."

Han nodded slowly. "Yeah, that's true. You've done well, it would seem," he said, taking in the rich surroundings pointedly. Lando laughed.

"Well, we all do what we can. Han Solo, hero of the Rebel Alliance, I hear. You've done pretty well yourself, except for your in-laws, maybe."

"Not yet, not yet," Han sighed wistfully and dropped down in a chair that sat opposite from the desk.

"You say you need my help," Calrissian began again, more serious this time. "If this has anything to do with the Imperial renegades..."

Han waved his hand dismissively. "They've kept pretty quiet over the past year and we pick up deserters almost every day."

"I wasn't really talking about the military."

"What?" Sitting forward Han was staring at his friend. "What do you know?"

"Bespin is a haven for everyone who wants to make easy deals, without legal burdens, you understand. Doesn't Karrde know?"

"If he does, he didn't tell me."

Lando smiled smugly. "Ah, interesting. Well, I hear a few things, and they tell me that something's afoot. Something big."

"You can't get any more precise, can you."

"Not yet. Sorry."

"Do you know Yana Dar?"

Calrissian's face lit up. "A very charming lady. Runs her business from Nar Shadaa, very successfully too."

"Can you get me into contact with one of her people?"

"Who?"

"His name is Abla Othana."

"The slicer? That will cost you. He's the best there is."

"Never mind the credits. This is important."

"Well, I can set you two up, no problem, but I want to know why. You said it was personal?"

"I'd rather not tell you."

"Come on!" Lando spread his arms theatrically. "Don't you trust me?"

"Well -"

"All right. A deal then." Lando fixed him with a non-nonsense glare. "I will get you Abla and no questions asked if you tell me what this is about the New Republic preparing for war again."

Han's jaw dropped. "I know nothing about that," he managed at last. "Who started that rumour?"

"I have no idea. So you don't know, eh? What about Vader?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself?"

"I'm not suicidal. All right, Han, here's the deal: Abla for that piece of information. You've got the connections, and it would mean a lot to me to know for sure."

"Done." Han extended his right hand and Lando took it, squeezing hard. "And now you can tell me what this talk about Joral is about."

Lounging on a heavy stone dais Joral's dark brown bulk almost merged with the gloom that filled his reception hall. Only his golden eyes were clearly visible, and they seemed to want to pierce into her head as she walked closer and stopped at a respectful distance. Bowing slowly Yana was smiling to herself.

"Your Exalted Highness, how may I serve you?" she began formally. He boomed a thunderous laugh.

"In many ways, esteemed Yana Dar, but there is one request I have to make that takes precedence over all others."

"What request is that?"

"You know my plans for the future, Yana Dar, but those plans will not come to fruition without your assistance."

"If you need information I will certainly make a special price for you," she told him with a teasing smile.

"Not information, little human," Joral replied. "I need you to perform a service for me, a small mission."

Yana gritted her teeth. Who did he think he was! But aloud she said: "I am sure we can come to an agreement. What mission is that?"

"I hear many things, Yana Dar, and of late I hear that the Minister of State of the New Republic has disappeared."

"I hear the same."

"Then these rumours are true?"

"They are highly probable," she conceded cautiously. If he suspected that she knew more than he did on the matter...

"I want you to find out where she is and bring her to me. If you do the job no one will suspect me. No one must suspect, Yana Dar, if my plans are to succeed."

"Find her?" She blinked her eyes in surprise. It was not even all fake. "That will take time, Your Highness."

"I have faith in you, Yana Dar."

"An honour," she murmured softly and bowed again. "If I may ask though, what purpose does this mission have?"

"The New Republic will move against us." Suppressing a startled 'what' Yana kept her features blank. That was new to her. She would have to confirm that rumour with her sources on Coruscant immediately once she was back in her office. "If we have the Minister of State we can convince her that we have the means to make that war very bloody."

"And anger her father in the process. Not very healthy that," Yana reminded him.

"Ah, but the esteemed Mon Mothma will not dare unleash him again, lest she lose the support of her allies."

"The navy is on his side more than hers. How do you propose to keep them in check?"

"Do not worry yourself with that, Yana Dar. I trust you will find out soon enough anyway, but for now you need not know more."

She gritted her teeth in frustration. "Of course. Then I shall leave and prepare that little mission for you. With your permission?"

"Of course. Visit me again soon, Yana Dar. I enjoy your company immensely."

That she did not doubt.

On her way back to Nar Shadaa Yana was busying herself with speculations on who might have spread that rumour about the New Republic, and to what purpose. The first who came to mind was Talon Karrde. He had excellent business ties to the new government, but he would not reveal sensitive information if they were not meant to be revealed. Right now she could see no way how such a rumor might benefit the New Republic though, except maybe to keep the Hutts from gaining allies.

Allies. She could not see Joral accepting any ally at all, at least not on equal terms. Suddenly she wished that Abla and Anderland had already finished their work on the program. She needed that knowledge badly, especially now that circumstances seemed to be changing.

Another thought came to her. If Ismaren had heard that rumor too, she might not want to come to Nar Shadaa.

"Sharam," she said softly. "Have there been any calls in my absence?"

"None, mistress."

"Good. If Roganda Ismaren calls I will speak to her without delay."

"Yes, mistress."

Of course, if Ismaren herself was the instigator of that rumor, things looked very different. Leaning back in her seat, Yana permitted herself a tiny smile. With all the various fractions she had to handle, life would not get boring too soon, that much was clear. Good. She hated boredom almost as much as she hated the Hutts. But Joral did not suspect anything yet and she would make sure that he remained ignorant until it was too late.

"You already talked to Karrde?" Padmé shouted, face red with anger. She seldom lost her temper, but when she did it truly was a sight to behold. Anakin merely shrugged. "I asked you to do what I tell you to, Anakin," she continued more calmly, but she was still furious, he could sense that easily. "Have you forgotten your promise already?"

"There was no time to ask for permission first," he countered, mentally preparing himself for another outburst. It did not come. And the expression on her face, a mixture of disappointment and regret, made his skin crawl with concern. Had he gone too far? Padmé shook her head slowly and sank down on her chair with a drawn-out sigh.

"You are not making things better this way. Why did you do that anyway?"

"I could only think of three factions who might profit from Leia's disappearance. One, the Imperial warlords we haven't managed to get on our side. Yes, I know they've kept to themselves, but if they think our attention might be focused elsewhere, we could goad them into making a fatal move."

"Far too risky. Anakin, they have enough fire-power to rekindle the war, and Mon Mothma won't let you command the fleet again. The New Republic would be easy game if they move fast enough. And you want to provoke them?"

"Just listen, okay? The second faction are the remnants of Palpatine's court. They might merge with the military, maybe they already have, but I know for sure they would only grudgingly agree to share power with the army. If they believe we are targeting the Hutts, they might also make the same mistake and try to find allies against us. Should they put in their lot with the warlords, they'll wait until our back is turned, too."

"I see. And the third?"

"The Hutts, obviously."

"What's the catch here?"

"If they have Leia, they will produce her soon enough to keep us away. If they are smart though, they won't do that."

"Then we have gained nothing. Anakin, this is all speculation." She frowned at him. "Or is it?"

Anakin smiled broadly. "Well, not entirely. Solo called. He had some news."

"What news?"

"First, he has found himself a slicer and he wanted money to pay him off. So don't be alarmed if our account dwindles a bit. I gave him the codes." Now Padmé looked amused. "What?"

"Nothing, dear. I just thought for someone who threatened to rip his heart out, among a few other things, you are surprisingly generous."

"Well, she is my daughter too. And Solo has his good sides, admittedly. Sometimes."

"Very generous indeed," Padmé mused aloud. "The other news?"

"Apparently there's some rumor floating about. You know that Joral has more or less inherited Jabba's little empire?" She nodded. "Apparently he wants to expand. The problem is that some Twi'lek are thinking about breaking their business ties with the Hutts and come to the New Republic instead."

Laughing out loud Padmé rose from her seat and came over to hug him. "Anakin! That is brilliant! I suppose Karrde will get into contact with that group for us?"

"Of course. Maybe we can use them to scare off Joral's supporters. Then he'll forget about expansion fast."

Patting his chest, Padmé was grinning at him. "That was a very good idea." She sobered again. "Unfortunately I have some bad news for you."

"What bad news?"

"Mon Mothma wants you to keep out of her affairs. In short, my dear, you have been retired."

"What? I thought she wanted my military advice?"

"She says the war ahead is a diplomatic one and that she wants to fight it without your help."

"I see. You will not be able to tell me anything of what is going on any longer?" She nodded mutely. Anakin felt like cursing. "Nice. She is pushing me out of the government and I am left to twiddle my thumbs. I should have known she would get back at me for taking charge during the war. What does she think I'll keep myself busy with?"

"I don't know. Gardening?" Padmé giggled. "Anakin, you have to understand her point of view."

"I do, believe me, but I don't like it."

"Understandable. I will try to convince her otherwise. She has to see reason too. She might deny it but she needs you."

"There's a great difference between what we want and what we need. Well, I know what I need."

"Do you?"

"Yes. A vacation. So maybe I will let you run the show for a change."

Squinting at him suspiciously, Padmé was silent for quite some time. Finally she asked, very slowly and deliberately. "Anakin Skywalker. What are you really up to?"

TBC