Chapter 5

Luke slowly came awake early into the ship's day cycle and at once sensed a presence. He was surprised to find himself snuggled up against something very soft, a light musky scent teasing his nostrils. His cheek pressed against an inviting satin surface. He groggily put the pieces together when he discovered the presence he felt was emanating from underneath his head, and his comfy pillow was rising and falling in deep breaths. He opened his eyes and looked up to see a peacefully sleeping Mara, propped up against the wall with her head lolled to one side. Her hair spilled in a wild disarray around her head. Her arms rested lightly across his back. He smiled thinking she looked like a mother comforting a distraught child. He would have laughed at the thought of her reaction to that description, but a pang of betrayal shot through his body like an arrow. His betrayal. He was betraying Callista by lying in another woman's arms.

At the thought of his lost love, the events of the previous night came crashing back to him with severe clarity. Callista wasn't coming back, and that realization ripped into his heart like a rabid vornskr. He would have sacrificed himself to the dark side to save her, if but for one very stubborn redhead who refused to give up on him. Why would she do that? Why would she care so much? He asked himself. He had known this woman for nearly ten years, and she was still an enigma to him.

He absorbed the vision before him. So rarely did he get to see Mara without her guard up. Her face wore neither snarl nor scowl, but rested in tranquillity. Perhaps there was even a touch of a smile playing across her features. He found himself staring at the full, pink lips, the corners of which turned slightly downward in a natural pout that was dangerously enticing. He turned away in guilty confusion and tried to untangle himself from her embrace without waking her up. Something warned him that Mara would probably not take kindly to waking up in his arms.

As soon as he began to pull away, Mara began to stir. Her face screwed into a grimace, and she lifted her hands to her stiff neck. Lithely stretching and yawning, she groaned cracking several vertebrae and making Luke cringe. Finally, she cracked opened her eyes to the Jedi Master sitting on the end of the bed. "Good morning," he mumbled sheepishly, forcing his embarrassment away.

She squeezed her eyes shut again. She mumbled something indecipherable in reply. Then she grabbed the blanket and dove under the covers once more. Luke stared at the lump in his bed for several seconds. He hadn't known what to expect from her when she realized she was in his bed. He had been prepared for scathing remarks, embarrassment and probably a lot of teasing. Never in a million years did he imagine her rolling over and going back to sleep. The lump rose and fell in steady breaths, and a grin spread across his face when she began to softly snore. He chuckled and padded into the small galley to brew some caf.

Half the morning was gone when a wild-haired creature in black satin pants and tank top emerged from his bedroom. Her eyes were still half-closed, refusing to accept the intrusion of day. She spied him at the table, and he gave her a perky smile. "Morning, Sleeping Beauty." She groaned and plopped down on the seat in front of him. He held out a cup of space sludge for her, which she took with another intelligent grunt. He refrained from saying anything else until she was capable of speech.

Finished with the first cup and half way through the second, Mara's speech centers began functioning again. "You've got a grip like a Wookiee, Skywalker."

As he felt his color rise and his face grow warm, Luke decided he preferred the grunting and groaning instead. He hadn't meant to, or even realized, that he had held on so tight to her last night. She was bound to give him hell for it, so he might as well get it over with. "Thank you for last night."

"Geez, Skywalker, you make it sound like I comforted more than just your nightmare," she replied sardonically. He knew she was only teasing him, but the innuendo made him turn several shades of red. "Look," she said seriously, "don't go all mushy on me. I did what I did for as much my sake as yours." Then softening she added, "I need my beauty sleep you know."

"In that case, maybe you should catch a few more winks while I go make breakfast," he teased her back, relieved that she didn't seem to want to talk about the bizarre dream they had been sharing.

Mara was surprised by the rare humor he had shown her. Though, she recovered quickly when she realized it was at her expense. "You're not exactly the prettiest sight to wake up to either, farmboy." Tossing a sugar packet in his face, she slid off the bench and headed for her cabin. At the door she turned and said, "I'll be back in thirty minutes for breakfast, and you'd better not have touched my kitchen!"

True to her word, Mara appeared in the galley precisely on time freshly showered and dressed in one of her typical, two-piece flightsuits. Her hair was pulled back into a practical braid.

"Is it all right now for me to touch your precious kitchen?" he asked all too sweetly.

To which she replied, her voice dripping with sugar, "Of course, now that I'm here to supervise. I think there's some ration bars and yogurt in here somewhere."

Luke groaned. "Not one for cooking are you?"

"I never said I was the domestic type," she shot back.

"Cooking isn't about domestication," he argued. "It's about survival." He reached cautiously for a small skillet and, when it seemed like Mara wasn't going to chop off his arm, began to heat it. "You see, the key to being a great chef is being able to make the most enticing meal out ordinary staples found in the kitchen."

Mara rolled her eyes and rubbed her still sore neck as Luke took on his teaching personae. She had no idea what she had in her cupboards. If it wasn't already packaged or easily reheated or re-hydrated, she usually didn't take the time to make it. Somewhere, Skywalker had found some flour, powdered milk and dehydrated eggs and was briskly whisking them together in a bowl. She smothered a giggle as a cloud of flour dusted his black tunic in a layer of white, but he didn't seem to notice. With a flourish, he poured the mixture onto the hot skillet. When one side was a perfect golden brown, he jerked the skillet flipping the cake into the air and catching it to cook the other side. Mara suspected he used more than just a little force to execute that move.

He flipped the cake onto a plate, and with a small bow, presented it to her. "What do you think?"

She looked down at the oddly shaped cake and scrunched her nose. "Sick."

Confused, he looked down at his creation. He caught the image in her head, and with a snort of mock-annoyance he retorted, "It's a lightsabre. Don't we have a dirty mind this morning."

"I knew that." She jerked the plate out of his hand, spun on her heel and marched to the table. She hoped that the warmth in her cheeks was not apparent to the Master Chef, but his soft chuckling told her otherwise.

Luke watched her retreating back and made an effort to smother his laughter lest he find himself floating the rest of the way to Adega. He quickly made himself a flatcake and returned to the table to see that Mara had already finished hers and was sipping another cup of sludge with her back to him. She continued to gently massage away the knots that had formed in her neck from being scrunched against the wall last night. Feeling slightly guilty for being the cause of those knots, Luke approached her from behind and removed her hand from her neck. She whipped around with a scathing remark poised on her lips, but immediately regretted it, for the sudden movement jarred her tender muscles.

"Just be still for a moment," he ordered mildly. She furrowed her brow, but turned to face away from him. Closing his eyes and summoning the Force, he moved his hand lightly along the length of her upper spinal column. He could feel her instantly tense under his touch. "Relax." He coaxed a gentle flow of warmth into the cramped muscles. One by one, they responded to his Force touch and loosened. He heard a contented sigh inadvertently escape from Mara's lips, and it brought a ridiculous smile to his face that he quickly wiped away lest she see it.

"Better?"

"Yes, thank you," she replied quietly. She became intensely engrossed in her caf.

Luke could feel an odd confusion of emotions peeking through Mara's mental barrier, but he chose not to invade her privacy. Instead, he decided to focus on the business at hand. "So what kind of bait do we have for this Guru guy anyway?"

Talking about business seemed to ease the unnatural silence that had enveloped the lounge. Mara left briefly and returned holding a silver amulet. "If this guy really is the one behind the hijackings, this trinket here will no doubt make him water at the mouth like a hungry rancor." At Luke's questioning regard, she explained, "This is one of the last known amulets of a group called the Guardians of Light. According the information Tionne dug up, they were a band of six Jedi who lived over four thousand standard years ago. This particular amulet is believed to have been owned by the leader, Jedi Master Nemuto. Legend has it that they believed in serving the galaxy on a more personal level, so they traveled from planet to planet helping individuals or small towns. They never stayed in one place very long, but they made a lasting impact on every life form they came into contact with. Tionne found hundreds of planets of varying cultures with similar legends of this group."

Luke was completely entranced by the story. He had never heard of such a group, even in all of his research into the history of the Jedi. "So what happened?" he asked eagerly.

"They continued their work for over a hundred years, then suddenly they disappeared. Their last known coordinates placed them somewhere in the Outer Rim Territories, but no one knows for sure. Some think that they miscalculated a hyperspace jump. Others think that one of the Sith Lords finally caught up to them. However, reports had popped up sporadically for over a century after their disappearance from spacers claiming to have found the lost Jedi band. But whenever these spacers were questioned, they could not remember the planet that they had found them on. Any information pertaining to the Jedi had been erased from their logs."

"Hmm. Jedi mind trick or spacer mind game?" Luke queried rhetorically. "Sounds like a great bedtime story to tell to Anakin and the twins. But what has all this got to do with our mission?"

"I'm getting to that," she replied impatiently. "About 150 years ago, four of the six amulets were found scattered among several archeological collections throughout the galaxy. No one can pinpoint the planet they came from. They think that the amulets were split up and passed around for millennia before anyone realized what they were. The hijacked ship was actually carrying three of them."

"Whatever happened to the other amulets?" Luke inquired.

"Two were never found. The other was sold to an unknown buyer about 11 years ago. Soon after, both the amulet and the buyer disappeared, and the seller was found face down in his swimming pool. Apparently, he had too much to drink one night and decided to take a swim." Mara's dubious expression told how much she believed the official reports.

"So a ship carrying Jedi artifacts get hijacked," he mused, "then this buyer from Adega appears wanting desperately to buy anything Jedi. Coincidence?"

"You catch on quick, Skywalker."

"So when do we arrive?"

"Fifty-two hours."

"Maybe I'll read through some of this stuff to pass the time."

Mara shrugged. "I've got some work to do down in the cargo hold, so knock yourself out." She downed the last third of her caf in one gulp, stood and disappeared down the passage way.

Mara tried for over an hour to concentrate on the cargo lists in front of her. In one corner of the Jade's Fire's hold sat a stack of crates full of merchandise she thought she might unload at the next sign of civilization. Never one to miss an opportunity for profit, she always carried something on board she could sell. Each article had to be carefully catalogued, then supply and demand had to be determined for several different systems to gain the highest projected profit.

Usually, this kind of work excited Mara. She liked to see the numbers fall into their specific columns and rows. The higher the profit margin, the happier she was. All was ordered and accurate, and all was right with her universe. But this day, the columns just seemed to blend together. The numbers seemed dull and boring. She couldn't concentrate.

Groaning in annoyance, she rubbed at her neck again. It didn't really hurt anymore. Whatever Skywalker had done earlier had loosened all the knots in her neck and shoulders, but every other muscle seemed wound tighter than a spring. She felt energy building within her with no release. She needed to move.

Setting her datapad down on a crate, she walked over to the other side of the hold, where she had a large punching bag suspended from the ceiling. Exercise would relax her, she was sure. She turned on some loud, hard music and shrugged off her flight jacket. Her fists jabbed satisfyingly into the bag as she began a rigorous work-out of punches and kicks.

While she moved, she imagined Skywalker's face on the bag. He annoyed her. She didn't understand why she was annoyed with him. He hadn't done anything that morning to warrant it, though she was sure that would change as the day progressed. He made her uneasy. They were supposed to sort of be friends, but the more time they spent together, the more uncomfortable she felt. It annoyed her to no end that he could always feel her presence, know her every thought and feeling. She could feel his presence saturating her brain like a smell that would just not go away. The man had no sense of personal space. She felt trapped in a box with the walls closing steadily in toward her. Waking up in his arms that morning did nothing to ease her discomfort. She shouldn't have brought him along. He was too much of a distraction.

Mara shook her head and tried to empty her mind of all thoughts about Skywalker. There was nothing she could do about him now. He was here on this mission, and he would stay by her side until it was finished.

The song changed to one of her favorites, and she couldn't help but throw a few dance moves into her boxing routine. She grinned in satisfaction as her pirouetting fan kick landed squarely on the bag.

Luke poured over the legends but didn't find any information that he didn't already know. Finally, he set down the datapad, stretched and rubbed his eyes. His stomach grumbled. The chrono on his bedside table told him that the lunch hour had already come and gone. He felt another tremor, and after a moment, realized that it was not his stomach but the walls and floor trembling. He stretched out his senses and enhanced his hearing with the Force until he could detect the strains of some lively music coming from the room beneath him. He also felt Mara's presence below him. Her heart rate was elevated, and she emanated a powerful amount of energy through the Force. Intrigued, he descended to the lower deck to see what she was up to.

As he neared the cargo hold, the music became almost deafening. He wondered how she could think through all that bass. When he saw her in the corner with the punching bag, he realized that thinking was probably the last thing she wanted to do at that moment. Sweat poured down her back, drenching her tank top. Several strands of hair had escaped their enclosure. Some stuck out at odd angles from her braid, others were plastered against her damp forehead. Her muscles rippled with the force of each punch. Luke was glad he wasn't the punching bag.

Suddenly, Mara whirled in a move that looked far too graceful to use in combat. She kicked high, completely missing the bag, and twisted her hips and torso in a way that seemed to Luke to defy human flexibility. He leaned against the door frame to watch this interesting combination of dance and kick boxing. She returned to the bag, wrapping her arms around it as if it were her dance partner and swinging into graceful leap that arced around her work-out corner. She finished the move with several sharp jabs to the lower portion of the bag making Luke wince slightly in sympathy for her imagined foe.

Feeling that she was no longer alone, Mara looked up sharply to see him watching her. Scowling slightly, she walked over to the controls and turned off the music. "I hope my music wasn't disturbing you," she said brusquely.

"No," Luke replied good-naturedly. "But I will definitely think twice before asking you to dance."

Instead of the smile or even the rolling of the eyes that he expected, her frown only deepened. "I don't dance anymore. So it's just as well that you don't ask."

"Funny, it looked like you were dancing just a moment ago," he pressed, sensing something behind her aloofness.

"I was working out."

Luke crossed his arms and stared directly at her. "Uh, huh."

She let out her breath in an exasperated whoosh. "I dance for myself -- alone. If you have a problem with that, then get off my ship." With that she stalked out of the cargo hold.

Luke sighed. He always seemed to say just the right thing to rile her temper. He walked across the hold, picked up her forgotten jacket and jogged after her.

"Mara, wait!" he called to her retreating back.

She didn't turn around or even slow her pace. "I'm going to go get cleaned up. Do you think you can give me at least that much privacy?" she replied sarcastically.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to barge in on you."

Mara halted in front of her cabin. She turned to him, her mouth partly open to reply, but no sound came out. She didn't know how to put words to what she was feeling, so slapped the release on the door and disappeared into her quarters leaving Skywalker alone and confused in the corridor.