Disclaimer - Lucasfilm owns the character used in this story I'm only borrowing them for my own amusement and am not making an Imperial credit out of them.

Chapter 3

Three weeks later - Tatooine

Mos Eisley on the surface was unchanged. It was dirty, gritty and dangerous, especially in the hours when the twin suns descended into night's oblivion. Luke had never been a frequent visitor to that part of the sun-baked sand blasted den of scum and villainy. It wasn't the kind of place his folks had business in, particularly when Owen and Beru had Luke to think of. He'd been there just once with Obi Wan, but they'd not ventured far. A tourist's guide to the city had not been one of their chief concerns at the time. Tourists were mugged or worse. Getting off the planet before the 'worse' happened had been paramount in their minds.

It was time he got to know it a little better, but he would wait until it got dark. Luke smiled with a mixture of pleasure and pain. Ben had brought him here in their attempt to escape the Imperial forces and return the stolen Death Star plans to Leia's adoptive father. So many points of reference in his life came back to Tatooine - back to this world.

He'd grown up here - taken his first faltering steps towards manhood. Born and bred in a bantha patch. That's what the natives said of each other. He pulled his cloak further around his body. He'd forgotten how cold it could get at night. During the day the twin suns blasted the planet with crippling heat and at night you froze. There were no half-measures on Tatooine. He'd left this inhospitable world, the only life he'd ever known and his family. The picture of the charred remains of Beru and Owen Lars would never leave him. He didn't want it to. It was part of what made him what he was. He'd eventually come back to Tatooine when they'd lost Han to the bounty hunter - he'd had to. He owed it to him for all the times he'd saved Luke's skin. He also owed Leia big time. She had always been the shining light in his universe, even though his love for her had changed. She'd belonged to Han after Bespin.

That had been a dark time in his life. All the things he'd believed in had come crashing about his ears. Who he was, what he was and why. His hand, his innocence and his identity had all been lost.

Luke had always felt that it was his fault. Han might never have been taken if Vader hadn't wanted Luke so badly, although Leia maintained that Han would have hit rock bottom without them. He'd been heading that way fast when Ben and Luke had hired him. They had redeemed him in a way. But deep down Luke had remained unconvinced until Han had taken him aside the night before his wedding.

The two of them had been sitting up late in Han's quarters nursing measures of Corellian brandy.

"Meeting you and the old man changed my life, kid," Han remarked softly. "And I don't regret any of it."

Luke lifted his chin abruptly.

"No!" Han cut off his words before he'd spoken. He gently swirled the drink in his glass. "I would be dead otherwise. My fabled luck had run out. I was going downhill fast. There would have been another disaster and Jabba would have finally run out of patience." He raised the glass and swallowed, letting the rich dark liquid trickle down his throat. Sharing confidences was always better with a good brandy, although Han was the only one doing any sharing. Luke was as close mouthed as he ever was these days.

"You wouldn't have been treated like that if it wasn't for me."

"Ah, forget the guilt, kid. A few months in carbonite - a holiday." Han felt his emotions swell and unaccustomed tears formed in his eyes. He blinked rapidly. There was no way his future brother-in-law would see him cry on the eve of his wedding.

"Meeting you on Tatooine was the key to my future. That sandball, in the end, gave me a reason to keep fighting, a family and the greatest of all - Leia. And for that I will always be in your debt." He snorted in disgust at himself. "I've drunk too much. Corellian brandy, even if it is in a Tatooine crystal glass, will be my undoing." Han grinned stupidly. "Wedding present."

Luke raised his eyebrows and watched Han with a smile on his lips. The Corellian sat lost in contemplation of his life to be. Something lightened in Luke's soul. It was still his fault, but he knew now that Han didn't blame him for any of it. It was all part of their glorious lifetime adventure. Luke picked up his glass to swallow the last of the brandy. Shock turned his features still. The glass in his hand no longer held the famous Corellian spirit but, instead, a fine powdery substance. It was sand - Tatooine sand. Then in the blink of an eye the liquid sloshed awkwardly in his suddenly shaky grip. It was an omen.

Mos Eisley, Tatooine

Mos Eisley was the opening to the strange, fabulous desert world of Tatooine. Luke had made his peace with it long ago when they'd saved Han from the clutches of Jabba the Hutt. He had come to know that it would always be his home - no matter where he was or what he was doing. This time he would establish for himself a small base where he could return when he needed to know who he finally was. Ben had given him his own small home on the edge of the Dune Sea. Luke hadn't been there since the search for a solution to Callista's lack of the Force and the adobe hut had fallen largely into disrepair. He glanced at his black gloved hands. They were strong and capable farmer's hands. They were the hands of a fighter and a worker. He would rebuild his new home on Tatooine. The honest manual toil would cleanse him and ready him for whatever came ahead. The Jedi trained mind and body in their quest to know the Force. He would embrace the discipline.

Luke suddenly became aware of his surroundings. Darkness had fallen while Luke had been dreaming. It must be something about Tatooine. He'd been such a dreamer when he'd been younger. Uncle Owen had often shaken his head in despair over his nephew's head in the clouds attitude. He chuckled silently to himself. "Luke head-in-the-clouds Skywalker. That was me all right."

People and things brushed past him in the dark. The city had come alive. This was no place for him to be but he relished the sensations of life around him. There were still too many members of the underworld floating about and although Luke was not as active publicly as he once was, there were still remnants of the Imperial Empire or the occasional crime lord with a desire for vengeance. Luke could still look after himself, but after his short bout of illness he knew he wasn't completely recovered and needed a few early nights. The medical droid had been quite insistent on a holiday. Luke had almost laughed. Him - a holiday! He'd never had one of those in his life and couldn't see himself on a resort world lying on a beach. So he'd decided to go home. Not even Leia knew where he was - though she would probably guess eventually. The only person who would know for sure would be Mara Jade. Thinking of her gave him a funny tingling sensation. She would have gotten his little clue round about now if his courier had done his work.

Melting back into the shadows he watched a small detachment of stormtroopers march past. He knew they were clones by the buzzing sensation he felt as they passed. The Empire still had access to such technology, but it was beginning to break down. Things had come to an impasse between Imperial and New Republican sides. The Empire had a very shaky hold on Tatooine these days. Stretching out with the Force he felt the fear and unrest in the air. It wasn't palpable, but something unpleasant just simmered slowly out of sight. Luke carefully released the breath he hadn't realised he was holding. Something felt wrong here and he hadn't much time to work out what it was. The Empire's control on Tatooine was shaky but someone else's hold was growing stronger every day.

************************************

Luke had left his X-wing in an anonymous lockup. The beauty of Tatooine was in its individual landing bays. No one knew who came in or out. With a fake transponder code your anonymity was assured. The bay Luke was using had belonged to Biggs Darklighter. His family had been wealthy enough to own several and this one had belonged solely to Biggs. For some reason Huff Darklighter hadn't sold it and now various Alliance personnel accessed it if they found themselves in the area. Luke gazed at his X-wing in the gloom. He would move it out tomorrow.

Leaving the landing bay he quickened his steps, suddenly anxious to be out of these dark, sinister twisting alleyways. The night pressed in upon his consciousness and he turned in the direction of one of the many underground hotels.

The bored female at the desk hadn't looked too closely at the hooded man as he'd requested a room. She'd been too busy glued to a holodrama on the vision screen.

"Name?" she demanded in a nasal whine.

Luke's mind went blank. Name?

"Uh.... um... oh.... It's Luke S.... It's Luke S."

"What!"

He made up his mind quickly. "The name's Lukas."

"What?" she repeated as she ran her vacant gaze over him.

Something he'd said earlier came to him. "Yeah, the name's Lukas… Lukas Cloudrunner." He smiled.

The female hadn't batted an eyelid and he handed over his credit chip.

Kicking off his boots he lay on the bed and idly poked his big toe through a hole in his sock. By the Force, he was tired. He wasn't home yet but he could feel it calling to him. Then Mara would come if she weren't already on her way. He'd come to the conclusion that just because you're a Jedi Master it didn't mean that you did everything correctly and in his case Luke knew that to be true. Why on earth when faced with the most beautiful woman in his galaxy had Luke run in the opposite direction? "And she is beautiful...." he murmured sleepily. Their destinies were intricately interwoven. They both knew it yet they resisted. This time he would give her the completeness she had always craved – as she would him. Then he forgot about the Jedi, his task and the Force and contemplated the fire in her green eyes and the way her mouth felt under his. He shifted uncomfortably on the bed. Smiling at a memory, he relaxed into sleep.

Pii 3

Mara sat in a dimly lit booth in the pilot's recreation room in the small spaceport on Pii 3. Opposite her sat the 'official representative' from the New Republic. Or in the Arkanis sector he might still be termed a rebel. It was a wonder the Empire hadn't moved in on Pii 3 and 4 long ago. Someone or something must have had enough clout to keep them out, or perhaps they underestimated its use to the Alliance. By now it was doubtful if the Empire had the military strength to do anything anyway. Not in this sector – not anymore. She assessed her companion thoughtfully.

It was unclear the exact species of the being in front of her. Pale orange eyes squinted from beneath thick leathery eyelids. There was a reptilian look to his skin, yet he breathed and functioned like a human.

"I am Cawdor. I have the pleasure – yes? Of being your contact."

Mara smiled dryly. "Jade," she announced herself gruffly. "The pleasure – no? Is all mine." She inclined her head.

"I have heard much of you over the years."

Mara's keen gaze sharpened. "Then you have the advantage."

"It is not an advantage – it is necessary to life to know what adversaries you may face."

"And I am an adversary?"

"Perhaps."

The verbal fencing continued carefully for a matter of minutes until Mara tired of it. She concentrated her Force sense on him, but discerned nothing but genuineness. "Cawdor – I'm here for information."

"I know – but as of this moment in the history of us all, I can tell you little. I'm sorry. The best advice I can give you, Jade, is to listen to what is happening around you here. This is a private planet. The spacers are here to collect cargo – nothing else. There are no gaming tables, no sabacc games. They are here, ordinary men and women, to do their jobs. This is only a simple relaxation lounge. No one here has an agenda. If there is trouble they are told to leave. Perhaps some are smugglers but in this place that is not an issue."

Mara widened her sweep of the room and focused on the many small groups of drably dressed spacers. This small cantina wasn't a den of thieves like you'd find in Ord Mantell or Mos Eisley but there was just something.

Mara smiled serenely. "Him?" she questioned pointing towards a heavy set man in scarred battle fatigues "Him?" She fixed her gaze on an innocuous looking man in a shapeless grey tunic. "Or…." Her eyes widened as she glanced round to focus on....

"All right, all right. We have some operatives here. I should have guessed you would recognise a trained...." He took a swig of his drink. "You have been cleared by the Preybirds Mate."

"You mean Organa Solo, I take it?" she lifted inquiring brows.

"I… I do not have the authority…"

"I do know about the training facilities on Pii 4."

"Look, girl!"

Mara bristled, but remained silent. If there was one thing she hated it was being referred to as 'girl'.

"How long have you been a New Republic Operative? What have you been told? Surely you must sense that something is going on here. They're fearful of someone or something and it takes a lot to scare some of these guys." Cawdor sat back in his seat.

Mara narrowed her eyes. "I can feel it." She opened herself once more to the Force and the feelings – the emotions – pressed in towards her. "I can feel fear and unease." Then something he'd said penetrated her trance. Snapping green eyes impaled the watchful limpid orange gaze of the humanoid. "What do you mean 'New Republic Operative'?" she hissed.

A wry smile twisted its way across the leathery features. "Why else would you be here, Jade? You've been cleared by the very top." He jerked his head in the direction of the third man in the room she'd noticed previously.

"Perhaps they're here to keep an eye on me," she mused aloud.

"Possibly, Jade, but they keep an eye on everything. You, for example, know of the training bases. Therefore, you must also be good at keeping an eye on things."

"Yes, I've been there."

"Strange, I don't remember you."

Mara's face hardened. "Perhaps not. I was different then. I've changed. Much have I learned and much still to learn." 'Sith!' she swore softly to herself. 'I'm sounding like Luke's Jedi Master. The old, green, short one.'

"Maybe. To have been working with contacts such as yours you would have to be adaptable. But even so, I would have thought I'd have recognised you. Another thing," he shrewdly appraised her. "You talk like the Jedi and most of them are long gone from this world. You talk about feeling the fear around you."

Mara went absolutely still, her heartbeat hammering almost in her throat, her mouth dry and her hands damp with perspiration. Clearing her throat Mara managed a careless laugh and leant towards Cawdor. "I am not a Jedi."

"I'm not sure if I believe you."

Enough of this, she thought. Mara leant forward spearing the humanoid's gaze with her own. "Tell me what you know."

"The general consensus is that someone has resurrected Jabba the Hutt, only more vicious."

It was as they'd feared. Recovering quickly Mara nodded to confirm her own findings. "That I can attest to," she muttered thinking of the Prada Predator's pilot.

Cawdor shushed a wary finger across his lips as a tall human in combat fatigues handed him a data pad.

"Thank you, Tipperty. Yes."

Cawdor's eyes widened and a puzzled look crossed his face. He passed the pad to Mara.

"You've been cleared by the New Republic hierarchy in duplicate. You must be important to them. They have never done this before to my knowledge."

"The White Bird bids the Fire's Hand welcome," Mara read aloud. She knew it had something to do with herself. "The White Bird?"

"I am not at liberty to say."

"Oh for sith's sake, just tell me." Mara had exhausted her patience.

"Princess Leia of Alderaan."

"Oh!"

"I had clearance about you coming over two weeks ago."

"But.... but.... I didn't know I was coming until a week ago." Suddenly uneasy about this, Mara shifted closer to the table. "Who is the Preybirds Mate?"

Cawdor gave Mara a direct stare. One that plainly said 'who do you think you're fooling?' Digging into one of the pockets on his mottled red and green tunic he handed her a package. "He said to give you this."

She took it and watched as Cawdor rose to his feet, bowed and left her alone. Carefully she unwrapped the object. Inside the wrapping lay a small glass vial of shimmering golden....sand.

"Skywalker!"

Mos Eisley, Tatooine

Luke sat up rubbing the sand from his eyes. The artificial light harsh against the white walls of his hotel room was too bright. Luke reached over and pressed the switch for the air-conditioning. With an audible clunk it noisily started to work.

"Oh boy, I knew I switched it off for a reason. It was too noisy and too cold. Now I'm too hot," he mumbled to himself. The light gleamed off his smoothly muscled chest as he shivered. Reaching for his robe he pulled out the small holocube of his family and said a small hello to each one. They wouldn't hear it, of course. They were too far away and he was on his own, but it made him feel better. Leia, Han and the children smiled up at him from the holos. Frozen moments in time. The grainy holo of Beru and Owen had them standing just inside the courtyard of their farm near Anchorhead. Beru looked small and vulnerable somehow and Owen looked large and............vulnerable. Something in his eyes told of an ever-present dread. 'Strange', Luke thought, 'I never realised that before.'

Wandering to the refresher he entered the shower and let his tensions wash away making plans in his head. 'Must stop for supplies, move the X-Wing to Ben's house. Then I can rebuild.'

Luke was good with his hands and would do the manual labour on his own. No help from the Force. Just Luke Skywalker, the man… Or Lukas Cloudrunner. Whichever was needed at the time.

"Skywalker!"

Luke quickly created barriers in his mind. He felt the irritation and the frustration across the miles. She had been given his message. Mara would join him soon.

******************************

Three days later Luke reached his new home on the very edge of the Western Dune Sea. It looked worse than he remembered and he remembered it being pretty bad. "I should have come home long ago, Artoo."

The little droid whistled mournfully.

"Ben left this place to me. I couldn't go anywhere else. I just couldn't." He shook his head to banish the lingering feeling of unease. "Come on," he nodded at the little droid. "Let's see what's salvageable about this place after we set up camp. It's not good to be out during the hottest part of the day."

For the next few days Luke toiled in hot suns and freezing starry nights until he had a place to rest his weary head. It wasn't luxurious, but at least it was some form of protection from Tatooine's hostile environment. He'd been so tired that he'd fallen asleep at the table, head resting on his forearms, his uneaten meal congealing by his side. Artoo rolled over beside him and beeped gently, but the Jedi didn't stir. He slept on, his newly tanned face covered in dust and sand particles. Honest, manual toil brought its own rewards. Luke slept on in his uncomfortable position and enjoyed his first dream free rest for a long time.

Artoo rotated his little domed head and whirred indecisively. Cautiously he extended his little mechanical arm and zapped the somnolent Jedi with a weak electrical charge.

"Sith!!" Luke came to, lurching from his position. "Artoo!" he complained. "What was that for?"

A series of whistles and beeps interjected firmly into the cross mutterings of a partially awakened man.

"You just woke me up from a really good sleep.... No.... No dreams. Not even a flicker."

Artoo jiggled on his wheels fussing.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry Artoo. All right, I would have been stiff in the morning. First thing tomorrow we'll go into Anchorhead for more supplies. I need something to sleep on. Perhaps the table wasn't the best idea. Yes, and I didn't eat my dinner. I wasn't hungry anyway. If I'd wanted someone to fuss so much I could have brought Threepio."

The droid snorted with derision.

*****************************************

Nothing stirred. The dunes piled against the sandstone buildings almost burying them. The endless desert rolled ceaselessly over the planet broken only by sheer cliffs and rocky valleys. No hint of green was visible in this arid world and yet the settlers managed somehow to eke out an existence. High overhead the twin suns reached their zenith baking any life from the scattered pile of buildings known as Anchorhead.

A strange wind sprang up from somewhere, but all it did was rearrange the sand particles into other patterns against the faded walls.

*****************************************

Tosche Station - Anchorhead

Camie peered round the doorway into a haze of blowing sand. "Anni! Marn!" No answers greeted her. "Anni!" Her voice rose becoming one with the moaning wind. She squinted warily into the swirling motes.

"Aw! Gravel maggots!" she swore as a speck of grit jumped painfully into her eye. Blinking furiously to clear the tears she thought she saw two small shapes detach themselves from a hooded figure and hurtle towards the dwelling. When her eye cleared all she saw were her two children running out of the storm.

"Where's your father?" she demanded irritably as her daughter bolted for shelter. "And who was that?"

The little girl pulled the protective scarf she wore away from her mouth and eyes and beamed into her mother's face.

"He has the bluest eyes ever, Mama. Like the sky."

"Who has?" Camie asked bewildered.

Anni peered out into the whirling maelstrom. "Him.... Oh!.... He's gone."

Camie sighed frustratedly. "Come on. Inside - supper's ready."

She peered worriedly outside again. "Fixer.... Fixer!" The sand rose and fell, swirled, twisted, curled and surged, dancing merrily in front of her reddened eyes.

"Fixer!" she shouted. Where was the lazy…? But the only sound was the wind and the sand and the strange howling of the bantha herd far out in the dune wilderness.

"Marn!" Camie caught hold of her son. "Go get your father. I'm sick and tired of waiting for him." She watched as her son ran off, her mouth thinning bitterly as she turned to go back inside. "He promised me a better life than this." Her shoulders slumped. She wasn't being fair and she knew it. "I could be a better wife to him. I should be more supportive. It's not all his fault. But we're being bled dry. We all are."

Marn raced past her into the house, a cloth wound turban-like around his head and a pair of protective goggles covering his eyes. He looked like a small droid. A small grease covered droid she amended with a small smile.

"Go and clean up, Marn. You've been in the workshop again. Haven't you?"

"Aw Mama," the boy moaned.

Camie pulled the turban off his head and stared down at him mock sternly. "Marn Windrider!" she threatened.

"Oh all right," he grumbled, then, his face anxious, "You won't tell papa will you?"

"What do you think? Papa's got a lot to think about just now," she chided. "Now, son… Go and clean up…. And take off those goggles."

Marn took to his heels and raced to the 'fresher.

Camie grinned involuntarily. It lit up her tired face and made you see why she'd once been the most sought after girl in Anchorhead. Before the troubles had started.

None of them had smiled much of late.

New Republic Base – Pii 3

The solitary girl jogged steadily on the running machine. Red-gold hair caught into a ponytail bobbed behind her straight back. Damp strands of copper curled onto her neck and over her flushed cheeks. It had been unusually warm on Pii3 but the figure dressed in the grey cropped top and leggings seemed unaware of the general discomfort. A ribbon of sweat snaked its way down her taut torso. Mara Jade kept working with nary an expression on her beautiful face. The repetitive exercise left her mind free to wander. She'd gleaned some bits of information from the spacers in the rec room – more than enough to confirm her feelings of unease. It all pointed to Tatooine.

An hour later she switched off the machine and draped a towel around her neck. Wiping down her sweaty face she made her way slowly to the door. By the Emperor's bones, she was tired. The constant upgrading of her fitness level had left her drained and she had fallen dead to the world into her bunk on the ship each night. A frown crossed her forehead. Mara suddenly sensed the presence of several people beyond the door of the gym. They were waiting for her.

************************************************

Tatooine - Anchorhead

"Mama!"

Marn sidled into the dining room keeping his hands firmly inside his tunic pockets. Camie closed her eyes briefly. That boy had an aversion to cleaning solution.

"I saw the Twilek today. He was here in Anchorhead."

Her work roughened hands clenched into fists, but she said nothing.

"Did you hear me, Mama? I saw the Twilek."

"I heard you, Marn. Did he hurt you? Did you speak to him? Was that who I saw you talking to earlier?"

"Mama, you're hurting me."

Camie looked down to find her hands gripping her son's bony shoulders.

"Sorry, Marn," she released him gently and patted him to show she hadn't meant it.

"He didn't see us, Mama. I don't like him."

Anni crept in behind her older brother, her little face anxious. "The Twilek," she whimpered. The other children in the settlement had been telling her stories and the Twilek had grown to terrifying proportions in her imagination. He frightened the wits out of her with his funny coloured eyes and jagged teeth. Other species didn't upset her, but this one did.

"He's mean," she said. "But I liked the man with the eyes."

Marn nodded vigorously. "A stranger, Mama. Wanted to know if HiCar Wildstorm still ran the station."

Camie blinked in shock. HiCar hadn't owned the station in.... say, ten years. He'd retired to some resort planet after selling the place to Fixer.

"He wanted supplies so I told him to go to Huff's store."

Camie nodded mechanically, then looked up. "Supplies?"

"Yeah. He said he had a place not far from here, but it needed tidying up a bit."

Camie pursed her mouth thoughtfully. Something hovered at the edge of her tongue, but the children, bored with the conversation, had decided to quarrel. It was only when the children had gone to bed and Fixer had slammed out sullenly to the cantina that Camie realised something.

There were no habitable dwellings in the area. They would know if someone had arrived. Anchorhead was like that. There were no strangers in town. They passed through – they never stayed.

********************************************

New Republic Base - Pii 3

The presences that awaited Mara weren't hostile, she thought, but they were adept at hiding their emotions. There were three - no, she amended quickly - four individuals ahead. Grabbing her lightsaber she walked cautiously down the corridor. The light had steadily faded as the evening had progressed and in the gloaming strange shapes danced on the walls.

As she neared the end of the passageway there was a small alcove behind an arch. Mara flattened herself against the wall and moved with all the grace and stealth that the former assassin still possessed. Something moved in the shadows and before the eye could blink Mara had pinned a figure to the wall, lightsaber shining in the gloom.

"All right, Gentlemen," she bit out. "What do you want?"

"Easy, Jade," remarked the man in grey softly as he circled the furious girl.

"Forget it, Lieutenant-Commander. I'm wise to any move you might make - orthodox or unorthodox." She waved her lightsaber dangerously just inches from the white head of the thickset man.

"Jade!" Cawdor entreated. "That's a dangerous weapon if you don't know how to use it." His orange eyes widened. "Surely you know these men; they are colleagues. Yes?"

"No!" she snapped. "Not colleagues, but yes, I do know them."

The man in grey moved nearer to Mara but she spun round in a carefully executed move which saw her foot extend and connect with his shin, never taking her eyes off the older man.

Until now the fourth member of the group had stood silently waiting. "Mara!" He pulled from his head the fake cybernetic prosthetic which covered the entire half of his face, rendering him unrecognisable to all - apart from someone strongly gifted in the Force. Black hair flopped over his forehead and dark eyes surveyed her coolly. It was Wedge Antilles.

"Wedge." Mara nodded warily at him, but felt the hostility. 'He thinks I ran out on Skywalker!'

"Course she knows how to use it, Cawdor. She's been training with Luke over the years. She's one of his pet projects." He raised a taunting eyebrow. "But she won't finish her training."

"That's got nothing to do with you," Mara snapped. "That's between me and Skywalker." She paused and her eyes narrowed a fraction. "He said that… to you?"

"Luke doesn't discuss you with anyone."

"Yes, of course, yes," Cawdor nodded.

Mara stepped back from her victim and shut down the saber with an audible snap. All four men stared at her silently, trying to size up the situation.

"Well?" She cocked her head to one side and glared back at them.

"How soon did you spot us, Jade?"

"Within the first five minutes. You make lousy undercover agents."

The thickset man laughed. "That's put us in our places, Cawdor, and I thought that as head of the Alliance Intelligence agency I would have some aptitude for the role." He held out his hand. "Good to see you again, Jade. Glad to have you on board."

Reluctantly she grasped his firm handshake. "Hold on! I'm not on board anything you're involved with. I've had enough of the New Republic, Cracken. That haircut, for a start, screams military."

General Airen Cracken brushed a hand over his white hair. "It used to be redder than yours, Jade."

"My hair is not red."

"No," said Wedge, "It's not."

The General put his hand underneath Mara's elbow and ushered her from the alcove. "I suggest we go somewhere we can talk."

"I've nothing to say to you. Until you treat me as an ordinary human being and not...."

"As the former Emperor's hand, Imperial agent and assassin turned smuggler and trader."

Mara glowered at the speaker.

"Cullen...." Wedge broke in hurriedly. He could feel Mara's irritation growing.

They moved to a small house well away from the complex of buildings. This was obviously someone's home. Probably Cawdor's she guessed. They sat round a low table in a shabby but comfortable lounge. Mara gazed at the men wondering why they wanted to speak to her. General Airen Cracken, Commander Wedge Antilles and Lieutenant-Commander Cullen Page. They did not trust her. So why was she here?

"What's the point of this, gentlemen? You don't trust me and I certainly do not trust you."

"That's not true, Mara," Wedge spoke up. "You're grafting the opinions of Fey'lya and others like him onto us. We're well aware of what you've done for the New Republic these days."

"Leia and Han certainly know your worth," put in Cracken.

Mara snorted. "This won't work."

Cullen Page appraised her thoughtfully, a glint in his grey eyes. "Luke speaks very highly of you. He would trust you with his life. And by all accounts, on many occasions, he has."

Mara's eyes darted suspiciously to meet Page's then fell and she toyed with the edge of her overtunic.

"I know and it works both ways. He's gotten me out of some interesting situations over the years. But before you ask, I don't know where he is."

"Is he missing?" Wedge sat up in alarm.

"No.... no," she reassured him. "He's gone off to do some Jedi thing. I don't know where he is. Leia doesn't know either."

Page gave her a strange look.

"I don't," she muttered crossly.

Cracken shrugged. "That's a pity. But it's you we want."

"What?" Mara was beginning to be intrigued about this. She didn't understand why they wanted her of all people.

Wedge stood up. "This has nothing to with me at the moment. I'm expecting a message from General Bel Iblis, so I'll take my leave of you."

"Goodbye, Wedge. We'll see you next month in Coruscant." A flicker of something like some sort of unspoken signal passed between the men before Wedge, with a dip of his head in Mara's direction, disappeared.

Page noticed the unspoken question in Mara's face.

"Wedge recognised you, even under the hooded cloak. It suddenly gave us an idea."

Instantly wary, the red haired trader narrowed her green eyes. "Okay. Spill it."

Page gestured towards Cracken. "General - this might be better coming from you."

Mara grimaced inwardly. Whatever they wanted her to do she had a feeling that she wasn't going to like it very much and she didn't need the Force and Jedi hunches to tell her that. She sighed. Where was Luke? Did he know about this? She needed him so much. He could make everything seem all right.

Mara's mind seized up for a fraction. When had she gone from hating Luke to needing him? She'd never needed anyone. Not even Palpatine. When had things changed?

"Jade.... Jade.... Mara! Are you listening?"

"What! Oh sorry. I was a couple of star systems away there. Carry on, General. Better get this over with."

Cracken surveyed her shrewdly. She had the skills if they could talk her into it.

************************************

Tosche Station - Anchorhead

"Fixer..."

Camie snaked her way through the regulars in the dimly lit cantina. Tosche station was still the meeting place for the local youth, but after Fixer had bought the place it had turned into an assembly point for all of the locals. It served Tatooine's version of ale and other such beverages. Nothing fancy, mind. Fixer was still one for putting everyone in their places...as long as he ruled, of course. But lately things had been so bad. The locals slunk in to mutter darkly in groups and Fixer grew more sullen by the day. Camie was almost at the end of her patience with him, but she couldn't leave – she loved him. The Twilek had threatened them all - including the children.

"Fixer..."

"Leave me be, woman." he growled at her.

"I can't. Anni and Marn saw the Twilek in Anchorhead today. They also saw a stranger."

"Must be one of his men." Fixer wiped the sweat from his forehead with a grimy hand."

"I don't think so. Wanted to know if HiCar was still around."

Fixer paused in surprise before continuing as he was before. He lifted his glass of ale and swallowed a draught. "That means nuthin', Camie. I still say it's one of the Twilek's toadies."

"The Twilek doesn't know about HiCar – that was long ago. I don't like it, Fixer. I don't feel safe anymore." Her voice rose as she desperately tried to make him share her fears. "Oh, I don't know why I bother. You don't care. Why don't you just curl up and die? That's what he wants us to do. You're halfway there already. I'm working my fingers to the bone for nothing." She held up her work-roughened hands, tears in her eyes threatening to fall. But Fixer just turned away and ignored her, burying his nose in his glass of ale. Camie took one last look at her unresponsive spouse before running from the suddenly quiet bar.

*************************************

"Ouch!"

"Sorry."

"Will you watch where you're going?" she demanded nearly in tears.

Gentle hands pulled her away from the wall she'd collided with as a stranger entered the station.

"I'm sorry. Are you hurt?"

"No," she managed tersely, blinking the tears from her eyes.

"Can I buy you something?" the gentle voice asked soothingly. "You seem distressed."

"It's nothing – a disagreement with my husband."

"Ah." There was a wealth of understanding in the one short word.

Camie looked up into the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. A young bearded man of medium height with sky blue eyes stood patiently waiting, his hand solicitously on her arm. Camie pulled away abruptly.

"He doesn't mean it, you know."

"Who doesn't?" She looked at him without interest.

"Fixer."

The stranger gave a little nod in her direction then disappeared through the door into the dimly lit interior. Camie stood watching in amazement. She didn't know who he was, but he reminded her of someone.

************************

Luke made his way carefully into the bar. Not a lot had changed since he'd been a boy. The local youths still met through in the back section near the workshop. The holotable games were a little more modern but, in essence, things were still the same. A few grizzled patrons leant on the bar all drinking some sort of cloudy lum. One or two others were chatting up a few pretty girls, but the touch of unease and fear was thick in the air. Luke could almost reach out and take it into his hands. So many thoughts and sensations clamoured to be absorbed. Something was wrong here.

When the Empire had been at its height Tatooine had been run efficiently, but distantly. The local prefect had ruled from Bestine and informers had been present in most places, but the presence hadn't been obvious. Now that Imperial power was waning, things should have been easier for the people, these hardy Tatooine moisture farmers. But something was eating at their spirits. Some of the men were little more than skin and bone. Even the pretty girls laughed too loud with an edge of panic in their clear voices. Luke eased his way into the bar and took a seat at the dimmest table. The bartender brought him over a glass of the local brew. It was obviously the only thing served. Luke paid him, then sat back to wait.

**********************

It wasn't until Camie had reached the dwelling that she realised something strange. The man with the blue eyes had known who she was. In fact, he'd specifically mentioned Fixer by name. He had to be one of the Twilek's informers. None of them were safe any more. She curled herself into a ball on the bed and began to cry quietly, but her tears never came. The sobs she uttered were dry.

**************************************

Fixer took another mouthful of the bitter tasting lum, his shoulders slumping in defeat. 'Even this stuff was off,' he thought disgustedly. He gazed round his domain, but found no satisfaction in it. Once he'd been proud of his own mini-empire, but the struggle was bleaching him of strength and optimism as surely as the suns faded everything on the planet. A couple of his friends sat arguing over a holo game and the stranger in the corner sat and watched them all. Camie was right. This one was different, but infinitely more dangerous. He was of medium height, bearded and with the blue eyes his wife and children had spoken of. He seemed familiar somehow.

"Arnek." Fixer spoke in a low voice. It was the first time in days that he'd shown a spark of interest in anything. "Go and find out what you can from the stranger."

The old barman turned shrewd eyes on his boss. "You think he's with...."

"He's a stranger. There's been few here lately. They all come with the Twilek to threaten and to maim and take from us what is ours."

Arnek shook his head. "I'm not doing it, Fixer. Do your own finding out."

"I could find myself another bartender."

"You could, but you won't. Folks won't work out here because of what's happening and you don't pay decent wages and never have."

Fixer turned away, his face wrinkled into its perpetual scowl. "I don't like strangers."

"You don't like anyone and that's your problem, not mine." Arnek wiped a few glasses with the crystalline sand granules they used to spare on water. "But he's no stranger."

"Eh! You know him?"

"No."

"But you said, Arnek...."

"I only said, boss," the older man emphasized Fixer's title a trifle mockingly, "that he's not a stranger - well not to here. At some point in his life he's lived on Tatooine."

"Well I don't know him and that's good enough for me."

"Look boss, we've been here a long time, seen people and things come and go. But don't tell me I can't recognise a native even when they've been away a while. I spoke to him earlier on today. He was in Huff's store buying supplies. His accent is pure core - almost."

"Almost?" Fixer was becoming interested in his barman's amateur analysis despite himself.

"It's not so much the accent as, when he moves, he walks like a desert man. But there's something about the way he says certain words and I noticed the more he spoke to Malay in Huff's the more he sounded like a rimworlder."

Fixer snorted derisively. "Anyone with a good ear can pick up an accent. That proves nothing."

"I know his face, but I can't place a name. It's his eyes; there's something about the eyes. Like he's seen too much. He must be a bit younger than you, boss, but not much. Perhaps you knew him?"

"Empire's most wanted, probably."

"He's been core a long time, but I still say he's rim bred."

Luke stared quietly into his cloudy drink. It had been quite a shock to find Fixer sitting in the position where the Tosche Service Station's owner used to sit. Seeing Camie again also hadn't been easy. These people had been in his past. They'd been his friends and enemies. Luke sighed wistfully - he'd never really fit in. He'd been the butt of Fixer's taunts. The scapegoat. Until that very last race when he'd broken Biggs' record. After that the gloves had been off and Fixer had been downright malicious. He'd never forgiven Luke for making him look small in front of those he elected to lead. Luke had then stopped wanting his approbation because he knew he wasn't going to get it. But seeing Camie again.....she'd been crying. He'd had a crush on Camie too in those days before he'd discovered the holo of Leia, but Camie had never had eyes for anyone but Fixer. He'd been the leader in their limited world so she'd chosen him. She'd treated Luke with a casual disinterest, like a troublesome younger brother. He'd been there, but of no real importance. He'd longed for her to notice him, but she hadn't and eventually he'd got over her. Still, he didn't want to see her cry.

Nor did he want to see Fixer like this. The man had his troubles; that was obvious. These people were the ones Luke had left behind when he'd been catapulted to his new life - the ordinary man in the desert. Luke had been just like them once. He'd been more ordinary than they were. He still felt ordinary. Fixer sat in his position of ownership, suspicious of all. Luke recognised what lay behind the mask his former friend wore. It was fear.

Luke had wanted to come back to see them if he'd ever made it to 'The Academy'. All the taunts they'd made had still smarted. He'd felt the justifiable emotion of wanting to prove to them that he'd made it. Now it seemed petty somehow and he had left it too long. They probably thought he had died a long time ago – if they thought of him at all. His mood darkened. He still had to visit the site of his former home. He hadn't been there in many a long year.

'It's because I still felt guilty. I should have died with them and I didn't.'

But Luke knew that he'd had to live. He'd been the only hope of the Rebel Alliance and of the Jedi. 'At least there are others now to carry on what I started,' he thought.

"You're not from around here." A harsh voice intruded into Luke's melancholia.

He looked up into the eyes of the old bartender. "Maybe not, but I used to be."

The old man nodded as if Luke had said exactly what he expected to hear. "You with the Twilek?"

"The Twilek?"

"That murderous conniving, blackmailing scum."

"No."

"Don't say much do you?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"Depends on what people want you to say." Something in Luke's dry answer seemed to satisfy the old man. They shared a small smile.

"I'm Arnek."

"I know." Luke didn't volunteer his own identity. "I used to come here as a boy, but you probably wouldn't remember me. A lot of people used to pass through."

"Aye. Passing through was about all they did. That would have been in Jabba's day. There's not much around here."

Luke's smile hardened. The old man leaned forward and whispered furtively. "Folks are sayin' Jabba's returned."

Luke's eyes widened, startled. "No." He said with a definite finality.

"You seem so sure."

Luke shrugged. "I saw him die. I was there."

It was Arnek's turn to be surprised. This was still a young man. Surely he couldn't have been old enough. If he was telling the truth, he'd have been little more than a boy. Something in the stranger's watchful gaze kept Arnek from pursuing that line of inquiry.

"So the Twilek comes on his own."

Luke frowned. "The Twilek?" He repeated. That was the second time Arnek had mentioned him. Luke sensed fear and anger from the old man, which seemed to mirror the general sense coming from everyone in the room.

"It's a long story, son and I've got work to do. Speak to the boss. He'll tell you what's happening around here. I'm only the hired hand."

Luke chuckled and faced the old man squarely. "Oh, I think Fixer regards you as more than that, Arnek."

Arnek looked momentarily surprised, then nodded sagely. "You may be right at that, son," and caught the credit Luke tossed in his direction.

"However, it's late and I'm tired. I'll maybe do that tomorrow." Luke wasn't ready to talk to Fixer about anything. All the memories he'd buried deep inside of himself were there to be brought back, but Luke wondered if he'd ever be ready to experience them. He moved from the building, a lonely figure wearing the aura of calm he'd assumed over the years. He was almost ready to relive his past. All he'd experienced had made him what he was and, yes, it was time. He'd done his grieving for Callista, but not for Beru, Owen and his previous life here on this planet. Perhaps it wasn't grieving he had to do, but to give thanks and remember the good things.

Arnek pocketed the coin and watched Luke as he left the building. "He walks like a native man born, that one, and he's beginning to talk like one too," he mumbled.

"Well?" Fixer questioned. "Did he give you a name?"

"No - he didn't. But he seems to know you and this place." Arnek replied slowly.

*********************************

Luke sat hunched in his hired speeder. These were his people. He was still one of them, wasn't he? There was something going on here and they were suffering. I mustn't get involved he told himself. But not getting involved... It would be the first time ever in his life. Luke knew that as soon as he'd stepped out of his x-wing he'd be caught up again in the lives of the people he'd once known. 'It's not the same for me as it was for Ben. He was hiding the offspring of a darkside sith-lord. I'm just hiding myself. Tatooine is still under Imperial control - if I don't upset anyone I should be left alone. But I don't want to be left alone. I want to fit in. That's all I ever wanted – to belong.'

Luke stopped for breath as a myriad of jumbled thoughts righted themselves in his mind. He shook his head and smiled. 'Trust in the Force and your new path will become clear. Perhaps you are not meant to stay here forever, so use the time for that holiday. Or whatever this Tatooine experience may prove to be - even if Tatooine is not everyone's idea of an exotic location.' He shut his eyes and reached for the sense of oneness in the Force.

The vision came almost immediately. A lone figure stood in what had been Jabba's audience chamber, sharp teeth bared in an almost maniacal grin. Other characters appeared through a haze around him one by one. The noise grew, the jeering and the shouting and the hysterical demented laughter. Finally, the figure of a dancing girl chained at the neck to the main throne became visible. Dressed in a skimpy costume she cowered fearfully, her green eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying and the red-gold hair devoid of spirit.

"No!" he felt himself protest. "No! Not Mara. Please, not Mara."

The noise, if it was possible, grew even louder. They laughed and pointed at something on the far wall. Luke's blood turned cold. Not again. Why had the dark side to attack his family? "Oh Han, I'm sorry," he said. It was the frozen slab of a man encased in carbonite. The sense of fear flooded his veins like icy water. He'd got it wrong. This time it wasn't Han - it was Luke, himself.

He threw himself from the vision gasping and shaking to find himself still in the landspeeder and still in front of Tosche Station. Being back here had opened all his old wounds and he was just going to have to let them bleed a little longer. His dreams over the last few evenings had all featured Owen and Beru and his failure to save them. It also wasn't the first time Mara had featured in a dream of Luke's. He had once seen the alternative scenario when she'd gained his saber from Artoo. If she had succeeded they would all have been dead. But dreaming of Mara Jade lately had been much more disturbing to Luke's equilibrium and his body. Wishful thinking and erotic pretty much summed them up. There was nothing visionary about those. His hormones were reminding him he was a man and not a monk. He set his mind to the task in hand and made his way to Ben's house. No - Luke's home. One thing was now clear. The Tatooine experience, or holiday - was out. The Force had other plans for him.

Climbing wearily from the vehicle he entered the simple dwelling. Already it felt peaceful. As the power hummed to life he tiredly made his way to his bedchamber. Pulling off his tunic and pants he slipped into the bed, the cool sheets calming his heated skin. Mara. When had she become so important to him? She would laugh in his face. No, he corrected, she'd never do that. She was his friend and his cheeks grew warm at the memory of her response to his kiss. She'd returned it willingly, but had seemed shocked afterwards. His body shifted restlessly. The Mara in his latest vision had been subservient and weak. The figure in control of it all had been a Twilek with purple eyes. He'd never seen him before in his life, but there was something oddly familiar about the mind. Luke rolled over and finally let sleep's oblivion claim him.

***********************************

Rising early the next morning and after a light workout and lightsaber drill, Luke drove to Anchorhead on the pretext of buying more things for his home. It was about time that he had a little talk with Arnek. Luke figured the garrulous old barman would be easier to get information from without compromising his own identity. The tousled-haired Jedi wandered casually towards the station. In the bright glare of the mid-day suns Tosche Station was oppressively silent. It was too hot for the beings to be outside. Far off in the distance Luke noted several vehicles approaching very fast and flattened himself against the building's rough hewn exterior, just out of sight of the entrance. The vehicles stopped and several alien species jumped out and began measured strides towards the building.

"Uh - oh!"

Luke quickly developed an awfully funny feeling about this. He could feel the hostile intent as it closed on the buildings.

A Devaronian and a Weequay moved to the front of the group, and another Weequay and a Twilek moved to the back. In the centre was a taller Twilek, barking out commands. They laughed jeeringly and proceeded to enter the cantina.

"Uh oh!" Luke muttered again to himself. "I really don't like this."

"Stranger!" The hissed communication caught Luke's attention. He turned his head to see Arnek's grizzled features peering anxiously out of another doorway. "Over here."

Keeping low, Luke quickly made his way over to the old man, but with a wary hand on the hilt of his lightsaber.

"What you doing here, son?"

Luke glanced into faded grey eyes. "I needed some things?"

Arnek snorted. "Bantha dung."

"Okay. I felt something was wrong and I came to find some answers and to help if I could."

"Oh yeah!"

Luke smiled calmly. "Believe what you want to."

"I will."

"Good." The Jedi relaxed slightly but kept an ever-vigilant gaze on the building across the street, his Jedi senses scanning for any trouble.

Arnek assessed the young man. 'He's not what he appears to be,' he thought. 'But I'm not sure I trust him either.'

"Just trust me, Arnek. It will be quicker in the long run. We've got trouble."

Arnek's mouth dropped open in surprise. How had he done that? The man must be a mind reader. It was then that he noticed the cylinder hanging from Luke's belt. Was that what he thought it was – a lightsaber? He took a proper inventory of the man beside him. The stranger was a mind reader or… or a Jedi. It had been a long time since he'd seen a Jedi or one of those antique weapons. The man looked as if he could probably use it too. So exactly who and what was he? "Why don't you introduce yourself, son," he remarked pointedly.

Luke grinned, white teeth showing in his newly tanned face. "The name's…" He hesitated. "The name's… Cloudrunner – Lukas Cloudrunner. Call me Lukas." Luke peered from his hiding place. The way ahead seemed clear. "Come on. We'd better get moving. Fixer's in trouble."

Arnek was left pondering the mysteries of blue eyed daredevils as his new companion took to his heels and ran towards the cantina.

***************************************

The Twilek's second-in-command sneered at the sullen cantina owner. Fixer, held between two of the thugs, was terrified but was damned if he was going to show it in front of this murdering scum. Bendu'Tal's blaster moved inches away from the side of Fixer's head.

"I suggest you provide a better service or I might be forced to close you down – permanently."

"You don't own this place," bit out Fixer trembling defiance. "Nor does your boss."

"No. Not yet. He's decided you're not paying enough insurance though. Either pay up or sell. Either way we'll get the money. It all hinges on the question, 'How badly do you want to live?'"

Camie breathed in sharply, horrified. "But we've nothing left to pay. You can't do this."

"Can't I? Silence the bitch," he remarked conversationally and the Devaronian backhanded Camie across the side of her face.

"I suggest you keep her in order, Fixer, or I might forget that I like you."

Fixer fumed, but could do nothing. Tal turned to the thugs on either side of him. "Show the man and his good lady what we can do if we so choose – and no one will stop us. Not you, or your miserable excuse for a law enforcement agency or the Empire. No one."

"Noooo…...!" Camie's scream echoed off the walls as two of Firith Olan's thugs laid into her husband.

**********************************

"Look son, it might be better to wait till they come out, then check for damage...." But Arnek found he was talking to thin air. Then a scream split the silence. "Camie!" Arnek limped as fast as he could after the disappearing Lukas.

Luke charged into the building and stopped, assessing the situation at a glance. The pair of Weequay were so intent on rearranging Fixer's facial features that Luke took them by surprise as he moved into a fighting stance. He threw a Force-enhanced elbow to the face of one while landing a sharp kick on the other's jaw. Both went down hard, knocking over tables and cracking their heads against the floor with audible thuds.

Satisfied that he had drawn their attention away from Fixer, Luke pulled his lightsaber and flicked on the glowing green blade. He swept the saber in an arc catching the robes of the Twilek thug who had abandoned Camie to join the fray. "Move out of the way," Luke yelled to the terrified woman. The stench of smouldering cloth filled the air. A back sweep cut through the Devaronian's cloak as he advanced towards the action coming dangerously close to removing his right arm. Meanwhile the Weequay brothers had managed to regain consciousness and were struggling to their feet intending to renew their attack.

As the four enforcers started towards Luke again, he felt a shimmer of intent in the Force, pivoted and his saber blocked the blaster shot from Bendu'Tal's weapon. His steely gaze stared into the Twilek's blood-red eyes. It was over. All four gang members stopped and began to move away from him slowly, unwilling to take further chances against this unexpected and unfamiliar weapon and the blond man wielding it. There were no casualties. With his skill, Luke had managed to let everyone retain all of their appendages. There was a stunned silence, then Luke spoke quietly.

"If you want to deal with the owner of this place, you'll have to speak to me." He silenced the Windriders with the stare that had kept Jedi trainees in place for years. "And I'm not doing business today. Come back next week. I might consider something then. Now leave," he said, infusing his voice with Force overtones. Fixer made a strangled noise from his prone position on the floor. Luke glared at him - blue eyes cold. The Twilek's entourage got up and left. Some were limping and all were bleeding. But all had the requisite number of limbs.

"My boss is not going to like this," Tal snarled viciously.

"Perhaps not." Luke's voice was glacial. "But I get the feeling that this was a spur of the moment thing, an impetuous move. Your boss would be wise not to upset the local populace more than he already has." Luke waved his saber a little closer to Bendu'Tal's lekku. "This place will be a good source of credits for me. Especially if your boss is setting up shop at the monastery." Luke blinked at the unexpected words coming out of his own mouth. Things were beginning to take shape. "Your boss and I had a deal," he lied. "But he keeps altering the conditions. I don't like it and you can tell him that. Now, I told the rest of your.... friends.... to leave. I suggest you do the same." Luke stood his ground, his saber humming.

"I'm going, but this is not finished. Keep this worthless heap of sandstone.... for the moment." Then he leant forward and hissed softly into Luke's ear, "I didn't know the Jedi were into property development."

"Who says I'm Jedi?"

"The lightsaber."

Luke laughed mockingly, his features hardening. "How many Jedi are left in the galaxy? Very few by all accounts. Why would the Jedi come all the way out here? I picked this old thing up - it's quite impressive." He waved it closer to Tal's face. "It can cut through anything," he warned darkly and then, remembering an old expression of Han's, "Nothing is really a match for a good blaster." With amazing sleight of hand Luke palmed Bendu'Tal's own blaster and pointed it at him.

Tal knew when he was beaten. With a malevolent snarl at Luke, he swung his lekku to lie over his shoulder, pulled his cloak around his shoulders and left.

The bearded stranger with the sky blue eyes stood in front of the totally bewildered couple. Arnek, who had seen and heard most of it from a safe place at the back, couldn't believe his ears and eyes. This was the first time anyone had taken on the Twilek's men and won. But did he do this for them, or for himself? Suppose what he'd told the Twilek was what he was going to put into operation himself. He could be worse than Olan. He shakily brought his blaster up to bear on Luke.

Without turning his head Luke called back to the old bartender. "Whatever you're hatching, old man, forget it. I'm on your side. Put down your weapon."

And Arnek found himself doing exactly that.

Luke sighed as he thumbed off the lightsaber and stowed Bendu Tal's blaster in his belt. Had he ruined his cover this early?

Luke surveyed the Windriders. Camie, after a frightened glance in his direction, had begun to tend to Fixer. His eye was swelling rapidly and he groaned every time he breathed. Broken ribs guessed Luke. "I guess you got off lightly this time, Fixer." Luke knelt by Camie and pulled her hair away from her face. She, too, had a rapidly swelling eye and bruising to her cheek.

"Arnek!" he motioned him over. Take Camie back to the homestead and see to her face. Ssh, it's all right. Nothing will harm you or your husband. The children will be home from school shortly. You need to get that seen to before they see you. I'll deal with Fixer. Now go." It was said calmly and gently, but it was an order nonetheless.

"We don't need your help. If you think…."

"Fixer…. shut up and let me deal with those ribs."

"I said…. Aargh! That hurt."

"Still the same old Fixer. If you'd kept still it wouldn't have hurt so much."

"Do I know you?"

"You used to. The name's Cloudrunner, Lukas Cloudrunner."

"I don't remember anyone by that name. Who are you?"

"That's the name I'm going by at the moment. Can we leave it at that?"

For some reason Fixer couldn't fathom he let the matter drop. The stranger – Lukas Cloudrunner - calmly procured bandages from the medikit and bound his ribcage. With an ease that seemed out of place in one so young Cloudrunner placed his hands gently on the injured man's body and willed something to happen. Almost immediately Fixer felt the pain lessen.

"What did you do?" he demanded belligerently, ashamed at being seen like this.

"I know some rudimentary healing techniques. It should accelerate the process, but I would try and see one of the local healers. Is medic Stivra still in the area?"

"Yes….."

"Sometime soon you and I are going to have a little chat. This has obviously been going on for some time. Rest assured I have no interest in taking over your business. I only said it to confuse those idiots. My line of work means I have a lot of travelling to do. Settling down in one place has been difficult, nay impossible over the last few years. I've rarely stayed longer than a few months at a time…." He looked up. "Just ignore me. It's still nice to be home. I think."

Luke helped Fixer to his feet and guided him back to the family dwelling. Arnek sat with a shaken Camie. There was something familiar about the stranger but Camie's mind refused to obey her commands to recall him.

"Come on." He'd returned and stood quietly by her side, blue eyes clear and concerned. "Let me have a look at that bruise. Ouch! …. nasty." He trailed fingers over the skin and the bruise faded away to nothing. "It might be sore for a day or two, but leaving it there would upset the children."

*******************************************

The Tatooine Wastes

A lone vehicle traveled surely in the direction of Anchorhead from Mos Eisley. She knew where he was. She knew her own ability in the Force had been increasing at a great rate and she felt his presence. He'd never been subtle in his life. She'd found the tracker on the Jade's Fire after she'd left for the Arkanis sector. He wasn't going to make it that easy for her. Skywalker knew she would try and keep tabs on him - she usually did. Even though they hadn't spoken for a year she'd been ninety-five percent aware of his location at all times until he'd turned up on Coruscant.

Tosche Station - Anchorhead

Luke and Arnek assessed the damage in the cantina. "Can you get this tidied up in time for this evening - ready for business as usual? I don't think it's over yet."

Arnek nodded and watched as Luke made his way towards the machine shop. Fixer had done well over the years. He'd managed the place for a long time before eventually buying it. He'd added one or two things, but apart from the small bar area it was as it had been when Luke was a boy. He picked up a hydrospanner and started to fiddle with an old R-5 droid.

"That old thing hasn't worked for months. Even Fixer couldn't get it working, and if he couldn't, Deak doesn't have a hope."

Luke fiddled some more and with a whirr the machine came to life. "I'm good with things like this. Even the R-5 can be sorted, although it's not the most reliable of droids. I've an old R-2 with its own personality, but I've left it at home doing a self diagnostic." He patted a GNK power droid fondly. "I'm not sure if we could have survived without these old fellows either."

Arnek smiled wearily. "I'm going back to see how they are. If you can sort any more, Fixer might not be grateful, but it would help until Deak comes back."

Luke glanced quizzically at Arnek. "I didn't know Deak worked here. Haven't seen him for years."

So the stranger knew Deak. "He's worked here for quite a number of years. Never will amount to much. But some of the Twilek's men got him on his way home one night. So he's been in the medicentre in Bestine for a while. Might be out, but I've not heard anything. Can't afford to employ anyone to cover and still be paying wages."

Luke got the message. "I'll have a look and see what I can do." He sorted through some of the tools on the work surface, then looked up at Arnek. "Em... What about Windy?"

"Windy.... You mean Favin Windwater?"

"I guess so. None of us ever called him Favin. He hated it."

"Windy married and left Anchorhead years ago. I think he's in Mos Eisley now. So if you knew Deak, Fixer, Camie and Windy - you must have known Biggs and Owen Lars' boy. Can't remember his name. I think they're both dead now."

A flicker of pain ran across Luke's face. "I knew them, but Owen's boy isn't dead." He busied himself with some mechanical part. Arnek paused at the door. "How come you know so much about all this?"

Luke lifted his head. "I told you. I grew up around here. I know moisture farmers and the equipment they use. Some things never change."

"Yeah, but it's about time that they did."

Luke lifted his head from the droid he was fiddling with. "It's out of our control for the moment. I'll do what I can." His eyes sparked satisfaction as the droid whirred into life.

Arnek gaped at Luke. "That thing hasn't worked for years. Fixer was going to throw it out."

"It's working now."

*******************************

Camie turned to her husband worriedly. "This is getting dangerous, Fixer. If I didn't know you better I'd suggest you sell and we get the hell out of here, before we're all killed. If it wasn't for that stranger we...."

"He knows us."

"That's quite obvious. But we don't know him. I don't trust people I don't know." But that was a lie. Somehow the blue eyes of the stranger inspired you to do exactly as he said.

"Says he's called Cloudrunner - Lukas Cloudrunner." Arnek grinned showing uneven teeth as he limped into the kitchen.

"We know," snapped Fixer.

"Lukas...." Camie repeated. "It doesn't quite fit him somehow and I don't know why." She frowned - again something elusive hovered.

"I feel as if I should know him. He's so calm it's unnatural. He turns up out of nowhere and fights off five armed men with a buzzing sword thing. I ain't ever seen no weapon like that," Fixer muttered, still brooding on his failure to stop the Twilek's men from harming him and his family.

"I have," announced Arnek into the stillness. "But not in years. It's called a lightsaber. It's the traditional weapon of a Jedi Knight."

"A Jedi Knight!" scoffed Fixer. "They don't exist - they're a myth."

"Not according to recent travelers," murmured Arnek. "They're rising again. There's a school somewhere."

"Oh spare us," griped Fixer nastily. "I've a Jedi imitator running about in my business."

"Weren't they all evil and corrupt?" Camie asked.

Arnek shook his head. "That's what the Empire said. So, I think that wasn't true. They were supposed to be good and just. They fixed problems and helped folks."

"You wouldn't get one of those way out here. If there is a school somewhere it will be in the Core with the rest of the fancy politicians. We still have the additional problem of a strange guy with a… what was it - lightsaber?  In my workshop."

"Last I looked boss, he'd fixed the R-5. He seems to be good with his hands."

"Will you two stop it," Camie raised her voice. "We've got far more serious things to consider at the moment. The children will have to go to my parents. I don't care what you say about it, Fixer. It's too dangerous for them here. I'm going to contact them now."

"Maybe she should go with them, boss."

"Maybe she should, but she won't."

"I'm staying with you, Fixer." Camie was adamant.

"He did save your life, boss."

The cantina owner's voice was grudging. "I know, but I still don't like it."

"You don't say," commented Arnek.

"Why?"

"Why indeed," grumbled Arnek sourly under his breath. "Why are the Jedi interested in us…if that's what he is?" Because Arnek knew that Lukas Cloudrunner was interested in Fixer and his family. It was a gut feeling but he'd learned to rely on such things.

*************************

Several hours later the suns were setting, the children had been removed to their grandparents and there were a fair number of locals in the bar. Fixer served drinks with his usual disgruntled expression.

Luke remained in the machine shop working on a recalcitrant R-4 droid. His Force sense sharpened like the static heralding an encroaching storm. 'Something's gonna blow tonight. I can feel it'.

Fixer looked up as the door slid open and in walked a woman in a dark green hooded cloak.

"I'm looking for someone," she stated softly, her eyes hidden.

"A local?"

"He used to be."

"The name?"

"Skywalker. Luke Skywalker." And she lifted her chin, revealing the beautiful face of Mara Jade.

Startled, Camie dropped the glass of lum she'd been holding and the whole room fell eerily silent. The only sound was the crashing of broken glass. She fell to her knees and started to pick up the pieces. "Ouch!" a long sliver of glass pierced her finger and, immobilised, she watched the red droplet spill.

Luke heard his name and the breaking of glass. Inwardly he groaned. "There goes my anonymity."

The woman with the greenest eyes Arnek had ever seen sighed impatiently. "Have you seen him? You do know him, don't you?" Mara raised her eyes in annoyance. Were they all imbeciles in this backwater miserable sandpile? She knew she'd always hated this place. "He is here."

Camie gulped. Things were almost unreal. Luke Skywalker. Now that was a name she hadn't heard in a long time. He'd been a strange, awkward boy with the bluest eyes.... this side of Anchorhead. He'd disappeared one day when the Imperial troops had torched his home and killed his uncle and aunt. They'd all assumed he'd been killed or taken away by the Stormtroopers as no trace of him was ever found. But this woman was asking for him.... Strands of information began to weave together, but it was as if something was deliberately blocking her ability to remember.

Before any one could answer the door slid open again and in burst a crowd of what looked to be the lowest scum in the galaxy. The whole place stayed silent until in walked Bendu'Tal. Mara stiffened with shock as Hinden's terror screamed through her mind and moved behind a pillar. This was one of the creatures in Calas Hinden's head. The leader's eyes had been purple, not red, but this one had been there too. She'd just struck a vein of top grade spice.

The Twilek walked arrogantly into the centre of the room. "I want to see your boss."

"He's not here." Arnek cut in.

The old man was lying, she could tell. It whispered at her through the Force.

"We don't believe you. Search the place." Weapons appeared in their hands.

Someone screamed, "Get out of here!" There was a stampede for the exit.

Having felt a disturbance ripple through the Force, Luke was moving towards the bar and heard Bendu'Tal's order. This, then, was what he had been waiting for - what the Force had been warning him about all evening. However, the gang's intent, this time, was far more deliberate. They were out for revenge.

All hell broke loose as the enforcers fanned out throughout the bar. Bellowing threats and obscenities, each of them grabbed a chair or table and smashed his prize against the floor, wall or any unfortunate patron still remaining. Locals unable to flee the building shrank away and tried to melt into the corners. A few weren't fast enough and found themselves being pummeled against the stone walls. Blaster shots accurately exploded the bottled beverages lined up behind the bar as various thugs began their own version of target practice.

Fixer, Camie and Arnek sought shelter behind the bar as the shooting began. Mara crouched down beside them. "Are you hit?" she asked. Seeing a quick shake of Camie's head, she ordered, "Stay here and stay down."

"Who does she think she is...?"

"Fixer!" bit out Camie.

"I take orders from one person. Me."

"Will you shut up and stay down? Just what I need - the Han Solo school of self-preservation. I won't tell you again." With that a shower of broken glass rained down upon them.

Luke felt the terror of the bar patrons as he ignited his lightsaber and ran into the bar. "Ah," Mara murmured dryly. "The cavalry. So this is where you've been hiding."

Instantly, the goons changed targets. Dozens of shots were deflected as Luke twisted and parried, intent on blocking the deadly bolts. It seemed that the more shots he blocked, the more were fired at him. So far he was keeping up but he knew he couldn't last indefinitely against this many opponents - not alone. Something that Callista had once said jumped into his mind. 'The more that hit you, the more that will'. He had no choice - he would just have to keep them from hitting him.

"Skywalker - behind you!" he heard Mara's voice. Luke ducked reflexively and Tal's shot whizzed past his head and thumped into the stone wall. Mara began deflecting shots from the relative safety behind the bar. Luke moved to his left to block the Twilek's shot angle and sidled behind the bar to join her.

'So you found me,' he said in her mind.

'You're not difficult to find, farmboy. I could feel your presence as soon as I landed in Mos Eisley.'

Arnek located the old blaster that Fixer kept behind the bar and began carefully firing into the melee. "We're gonna have to do something!"

Mara glanced at Luke. "Ready?" she asked him.

"On three," he replied. "One, two........ Three!"

They leapt over the bar and began to cut down the enemy. Luke arced his saber to the left and cut off the blaster hand of an unfortunate Devaronian, swinging it back up to block a shot aimed at Mara's back. She returned the favour, her saber glowing blue fire, and a Weequay screamed in pain. Arnek fired at his compatriot, hitting him in the belly and sending him crashing to the floor. As more opponents went down, Mara grinned. She was actually enjoying herself. Then she saw Luke stumble and the fun evaporated. He'd been hit. She could see smoking cloth and burned skin on his left shoulder. He turned, swiped his blade sideways and Bendu'Tal fell in two meaty chunks to the floor. The surprise on the Twilek's face was almost comical. Determined to end what was rapidly becoming a rout, she took down the last man remaining in the bar and edged stealthily around the door to see how many remained outside.

"Get inside, Jade." Luke elbowed her out of the way and eased himself into position. But all he saw was several speeders heading off into the dark desert night. "I think have a good idea where they are going."

The next thing he felt was a strong feminine arm grasping his and wrestling it round his back and the feel of a blaster next to his head.

"Come on, Skywalker. You need to get that flesh wound looked at."

"It's nothing."

"Farmboy," she threatened.

"Ok, Jade. Easy on the armlock."

"You could break it any time, Skywalker, if you hadn't been hurt."

"Are you going to kiss it better... ow!"

"In your dreams, farmboy," she growled.

Mara drew Luke back inside and oblivious to the curious looks of the Windriders and any other staff remaining, she proceeded to peel off Luke's tunic top and try to do something with his cuts, bruises and the rather nasty blaster burn on his shoulder.

"Hold it, Jade." Luke surveyed the scene - the fleeing customers, the casualties and the remaining thugs. Arnek shuffled up towards them.

"I've called the law agency; not that it'll do much good, mind. They all seem to be in the pay of the criminals. The healer is coming too. I would get that shoulder looked at, Cloudrunner."

"Luke?" Mara drawled. "Who's Cloudrunner? As if I didn't know."

Luke ignored her. "Good," he replied.

Eventually all the injured had gone and Luke was still pacing around shirtless, trying to sort things out. Mara's lips firmed in annoyance. He needed a keeper, did that one...someone to look after him. She remembered Jacen and Jaina's request on Coruscant. It looked as if they were right. He did need someone to look after him. "Luke," her voice rose threateningly. "If you don't come and let me sort that shoulder I may just have to kill you."

Luke stopped what he was doing and a tender smile crossed his face. "I'm all yours, Jade." Mara closed her eyes in exasperation and a hiss left her mouth. He kept doing things like that to her these days. "Luke....!"

For the second time in a day, Camie, Fixer and Arnek were left to tidy up the general mess. "Let's leave it tonight, Fixer," sighed Camie. "We have to let the agency know. Not that they'll do anything."

"I've called the agency," Arnek told her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Camie turned to watch the couple in the corner as the redheaded girl proceeded to try and help the man who had identified himself as Lukas Cloudrunner. Except she called him - Luke. She looked strangely at the girl who was dressing Cloudrunner's wounds. "She knows him." Something began to worm its way through her tired brain.

"Skywalker!" Mara threatened. "Will you keep still?"

Camie couldn't believe her ears. She glanced at Fixer to see if he'd caught the significance of the exchange. He was staring at the couple, a strange expression on his face.

Luke glanced up and rolled his eyes. "Uh oh, I think I'm in trouble, Jade."

"Why doesn't that surprise me," she thought back sarcastically.

"I've been using a pseudonym."

"Big words, Jedi. Your nephew said I'd to look after you. Do I start now?"

"Hah! Funny, Jade."

"They thought you might be in trouble - again. Is that why you grew that fuzzy beard? I think I prefer you without it."

"Then for you, it'll come off, Mistress Jade."

"Since when did you become so accommodating, Master Skywalker?"

Green eyes sparkled into blue. It seemed to Camie that the pair of them were communicating without words. The girl lifted a hand up towards the man's face as if she was about to touch him. Then she dropped her hand awkwardly. Fixer stepped forward his fist clenched. No one got the better of him. Camie quickly grabbed his arm.

"Wormie?" she questioned hesitantly. The game was up.

Green eyes narrowed and glanced towards blue. "Wormie?" Mara repeated.

"Luke," he corrected firmly. He hadn't planned to have his cover blown so soon, but perhaps it was for the best, though the way Fixer was glaring at him... Time for a formal introduction - it might take the heat off things a little. " Sorry," he apologised. "I'm Luke Skywalker as you've probably guessed and this is Mara Jade, a friend.... and student of mine." He looked sideways at the woman by his side.

"We thought you were dead. You just disappeared after...."

"My folks were killed. It's a very long story. Sufficient to say I've been looking for a change, so I came back here to pay my respects and revisit my past."

"Why use a false name?" Camie asked.

Luke flushed slightly and Mara grinned maliciously.

"He's quite well known these days and there are quite a few people who would like to get rid of him or ransom him to the highest bidder. Although I don't think he's worth that much."

"Unfair, Jade," he sent to her.

"Oh, I don't know. I wanted to get rid of you myself at one time."

"Just once, Jade? I'm touched."

"What do you mean by 'well known'?"

Luke glanced a look at Mara. "Help me out here. I don't want to tell the story of the rebellion. They don't need to know."

"I fought against the Empire during the war. It could be a high profile job sometimes."

"The Rebellion's foremost example of a war hero." Mara sniggered silently at him. He sent her a glare.

"What have you been doing for all these years?" Fixer's voice came out sounding rusty. "Did you ever think about us at all?"

"Yes, I did - of course I did. You've always been part of what I am, but I did have other things to think about. I went into the Rebel Alliance as a pilot and for the past few years I've been teaching."

"Jedi?" queried Arnek softly and Mara nodded. He motioned with his head towards Mara's saber also hanging from her belt. She nodded again beginning to accept the inevitable. Yes, she was Jedi.

"Look it's late and I can tell you're not interested in a grand reunion, but we do need to talk. Remember, I can help and without being too proud you need the help." He winced a little at the pain in his shoulder and turned to leave. "I'll be along to see you in a couple of days. The Twilek won't try anything for a while. I think Bendu'Tal's been behind most of your recent problems on his own. You coming, Jade?"

Mara nodded and followed him slowly out towards his landspeeder which lay abandoned in a corner. She flashed the Windriders a warning glare and climbed into the speeder.

Fixer watched the vehicle until it vanished into the darkness. "Where did he hook up with a girl like that?" Mara Jade must be one of the most beautiful girls he'd ever seen. But she was more than just decorative - that much was clear. She was handy in a fight. Luke had changed from the gawky, adolescent boy they remembered. He exuded a quiet power from the moment they had met him again. He wasn't the outsider anymore and they were going to need his help. If it really was Skywalker? A slow burning anger filled him. People like Skywalker had no business being better than they ought. This wasn't the guy who'd been the butt of their fun. He'd been a friend, yet inconsequential - the last one to be picked for any team game. Looks like things had changed.

Camie sat down on the comfortable chair she favoured in her lounge. That had been Wormie - Luke. Why hadn't she seen that before? The beard hid the shape of his face right enough, but the eyes were still that steadfast blue.

"How dare he come and make a fool out of us." Fixer grumbled. Camie crossed to his side and mindful of his ribcage put her arms around him.

"I never realised this before but you were always a bit jealous of him, weren't you darling? I never really knew why for a long time. Whatever you said to him, he brushed it off, he had his dreams and he never looked up to you the way he did Biggs. We all knew that he would make it. But you're wrong about him, Fixer. He didn't come here to make a fool of us. He saved our lives. He could have left us to suffer but he didn't."

Fixer huffed a little. "He's changed, Camie – if he's who he says he is."

"Oh I think so. We have no choice but to accept any help we've been given and…." she chuckled lightly. "He did fix that R-5."

******************************************************

Firith Olan sat in his speeder just outside Anchorhead. A cold satisfaction had turned to rage when he'd heard about the death of Bendu'Tal. Even so, Tal wasn't important and could be replaced. In fact, they'd probably done Olan a favour. Tal had been getting a little too ambitious of late and there was room for only one man at the top. The Windriders had proven their ability to cope. He'd other things to deal with first but Fixer would get what was coming to him. Something struck him. Geqwrass had told of a man with a glowing sword. He hadn't seen anything like that for years. But Jedi? Impossible. There was one particular Jedi he'd come across in his lifetime, but it couldn't be him. Could it? He headed the speeder away from the settlement. Things could wait. He had to ascertain the whereabouts of one Luke Skywalker.