CHAPTER SIX
Underneath the enormous tent that had been erected to serve as a makeshift cafeteria, hundreds of the refugee camp's residents filled the chairs around the modest number of tables; the rest sat on the grass. Tonight's dinner apparently was a small portion of some kind of meat and a large portion of local vegetables. Leia took a tray from the pile, added a plate, and moved toward the serving line.
She hadn't eaten lunch today, so when the serving droid slopped a ladleful of vegetables on her plate she smiled warmly and used her most polite voice. "May I have a little more, please?"
Behind her shoulder she heard a pleased chuckle. "Sure you need it, Princess?"
While the droid obliged without comment, she turned around and glared at Han. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Hey, cool it there, sweetheart," he laughed defensively. "I was only joking."
"What? Are you implying I need to lose some weight?"
"No, that's not what I…"
"Or you think I eat too much, is that it?"
"Compared to Chewie, no."
Leia nearly hurled the contents of her tray into his face, but she restrained herself at the last moment – that would only get her azure flight suit dirty too, and she didn't want to have to clean it yet. Instead she scowled and spoke in a sharp, hushed voice. "Why you… stuck up… half-witted… scruffy-looking… nerf-herder!"
Han only grinned. "Nerf-herder? That's low, Your Worship, even for you."
"You are utterly insufferable!" She couldn't stand to look at him for even one more second, so she spun away and charged into the packed seating area. As luck would have it, a few yards away a trio of Ithorians were standing up from their seats at a table.
Leia lunged ahead and claimed the chairs. While she began to pick at the vegetables with her fork, she scanned the entrance and the serving line. Sarré and Chewie were on their way, but she didn't see them yet. Lando had begged off dinner tonight, preferring to make repairs on the Falcon and eat packaged rations instead; Threepio also had returned to the freighter to recharge his fuel cell. And she noticed that Han wisely had chosen to sit on the grass a notable distance away.
She was about halfway through her meal when she felt a tapping on her shoulder. "What?" she growled.
The voice that responded was deep and threatening. "Hey, pretty girl, how about I sit with you?"
Leia looked up to see tall, burly man standing over her. He had short, slicked-back black hair and a long, scraggly scar running along his left cheek that ended at an empty eye socket. "No, thank you," she said brusquely. "I'm not interested."
One-Eye reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. The grip was painful. "Aw, now why would you say that? I'm a very nice guy."
"Please go away," she said firmly. She reached up to push his hand off, but he only squeezed harder.
"Come on, pretty girl, give me a chance." A sharp pain shot down her arm.
"Leave her alone!" demanded Han's voice from behind One-Eye.
The goon spun to face Han but did not release her shoulder. "Mind your own business, if you know what's good for you."
"I said, leave the lady alone!" Han's face had a determined frown, and his fists were clenched. Unfortunately, Navy officer's attire or black covert operations fatigues would have been far more persuasive than the grimy spacer's vest and shirt he wore.
"Go away, you worthless scum," One-Eye spat.
Han didn't wait any longer. He swung a powerful haymaker that connected with the One-Eye's jaw and sent him sprawling to the ground.
One-Eye sat there for a moment, staring viciously at Han. Then he rose to his feet, brushed the dirt off his shirt and the seat of his pants, and took a step forward. He lifted two fingers to his mouth and blew a high-pitched whistle. "You're going to regret that, fool."
At a nearby table ten similarly menacing men jumped from their seats and headed toward the confrontation.
Han looked at Leia with raised eyebrows. "You said you wanted to be around when I made a mistake. Well, this could be it, sweetheart."
She was scared. Her heart was pounding. "I take it back."
The eleven goons formed a semicircle around them. One-Eye – he seemed to be the leader – stepped up to Han and slammed a balled fist directly into his stomach. When Han doubled over in pain, One-Eye punched him on the side of the face. Then in the stomach again. Then twice in the ribs. Then the face again.
Leia was backed against the table. She couldn't run. And with these kind of numbers she had no idea how she possibly could help Han either.
More punches struck Han in the torso until a final uppercut launched him into the air to land on the table with a sickening thud. Only a soft moan passed his lips as he lay there. Motionless.
Leia's legs were shaking beneath her as she turned to face the men surrounding her. She was more afraid now than she ever had been when she was a prisoner of the Sith. She had no idea what to do. She couldn't even scream – she was too paralyzed with fright.
At that very moment she heard a familiar voice behind her. "Chewie! Take the rear!"
She heard the thump of a boot against the table, then felt the rush of air as Sarré sailed from over her shoulder to land on the ground in front of her in a defensive stance. "Back down!"
One-Eye laughed at the short blonde girl in an azure flight suit. "You must be joking, sweet thing. Now we'll just have our fun with you too."
"One more chance," Sarré snarled. "Back down."
Leia knew her handmaiden was well trained in self-defense and highly skilled in martial arts. She had complete confidence in her. But she wasn't sure how Sarré planned to defeat this many opponents at the same time.
One-Eye towered over Sarré. "That's enough, little girl," he smirked.
Leia didn't even see the kick, it happened so quickly. All she saw was One-Eye collapse to the ground, clutching his groin and screaming like a baby.
Sarré didn't take any chances with the others. With a leap over the fallen One-Eye, she kicked one of the men squarely in the chest. Simultaneously Chewie roared an enraged howl from behind the gathered brutes. Before they could react, he had grabbed a pair of heads in his huge palms and slammed the skulls together.
When she landed from her flying kick, Sarré snapped her left fist up into the face of another goon and on the recoil slammed her elbow into chest of the man next to him. A backward kick hit the chin of a ruffian behind her before she spun around to smash the same man in the nose with her right elbow and punch the adjacent brute in the abdomen with the fist.
A quick pound of a fist to the top of his head had knocked unconscious the man to whom Sarré had delivered the leaping kick, so Chewie surged forward and grabbed hold of another. Another swift blow knocked him out too, and Chewie flung the limp body to the ground and moved on. Catching a thug by the back of his shirt, he slammed the man's head into his upraised knee and tossed him aside as well.
Sarré spun to engage the opponents on her left again. She landed a powerful roundhouse kick with her left foot, then lunged upright to land a vicious right-handed uppercut squarely on the chin of the other goon. Reversing her momentum again she plowed her elbow into one man's nose for the second time before she leaned back slightly to kick his compatriot full in the face. Quickly she looked around, confirming the four bodies were lying prone on the grass.
The last standing brute tried to flee, but Chewie merely grabbed him by the waist, heaved him into the air over his head, and threw him to the ground. After kicking the man in the ribs for good measure, he rushed toward the table.
The stunning flurry of blows had ended the melee in a matter of seconds. It took Leia a moment to collect herself. "Han!" she gasped, spinning around to check on him.
Chewie already had pulled him along the table and propped him upright against it. The Wookiee wroofed an anxious query.
"I'll… be… okay," Han rasped. "Nothing's… broken… I think."
Leia reached out and rested her fingers gently on his cheek, which already was badly swollen and bruised. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.
"Leia, we have to leave now." Sarré's voice was fierce and insistent.
Leia turned around to see Sarré standing over One-Eye's body, which was curled into a fetal position and rocking back and forth. Rarely did her handmaiden adopt the tone of an uncompromising bodyguard with Leia. Now was one of those times, and Leia knew better than to even try to argue. "Okay. What do we do?"
The uncharacteristic anger in Sarré's lavender eyes startled Leia. Without breaking their intense gaze, Sarré stomped her booted foot straight down on One-Eye's undefended head. Then she stepped over his now-unconscious body and took Leia by the arm. "We go back to our tents. They won't come after us; you can count on that. And if camp security shows up, well, we'll show our credentials and invoke consular immunity."
"Okay," Leia nodded. "Chewie, can you…" The Wookiee interrupted her with an affirmative bark. He already had Han's body tucked into the elbow of his long left arm, supporting his friend's weight but letting him walk.
Sarré pulled Leia ahead, leading her out of the large dining tent to the camp's dirt pathway. They walked as quickly as they could toward their tents. Chewie soon abandoned his first idea and simply picked Han up and carried him effortlessly in both arms. At that speed they reached their destination in a matter of minutes.
Chewie gently put Han down on one of the crates by the burnt logs of the campfire. Han was able to sit up on his own, so Chewie wrawled a quick comment.
"What'd he say?" asked Sarré bluntly.
"He'll… stand guard… over there," Han indicated with a tilt of his head. "Out of sight."
"That's a good idea," Sarré nodded, her tone still authoritative. "I'll get the medpac."
After Sarré disappeared inside her tent, Leia sat down next to Han and brushed her fingers very softly along the dark blue splotches on his face. She took a deep breath and sighed.
He groaned in pain. "What?"
"You certainly have a way with people."
---
Every single square inch of her skin was drenched in sweat.
The gray elastic fabric of the training attire clung to her as if adhered by industrial glue.
Every breath of the hot, dank air of the bog filled her lungs with choking, searing dampness.
Her long braid of brown hair, flopping erratically behind her, seemed to weigh as much as steel.
Every step of her running feet, every leap into the air, every vine she climbed made her muscles ache.
Danaé didn't mind any of it.
With Yoda strapped to her back in a harness, she moved swiftly and easily through the murky fog that shrouded the swamp. Her bare feet found logs and rocks, her legs and the Force launched her over standing water, and her arms carried her up and over obstacles when there was not enough room to jump.
None of it required conscious thought. The living Force flowed so strongly through the multitude of flora and fauna all around her that her perceptions propelled her along her path as effortlessly as if she was flying. Never in her life had she felt so full of energy and life.
When she slid down a vine and burst through a small clearing in the trees, Yoda leaned forward just a bit in the harness and began to ask her questions again. Hard questions.
"Who are you?" asked the ancient Master calmly.
She thought for a moment while her feet sailed across the muck of their own accord. "I am a Jedi," she finally answered.
"No," came the stern rejoinder. "Not what. Who."
"I am a Skywalker," she said with little confidence after another pause.
"Yes, yes. Skywalker. The Chosen One you are, hmm?"
"No. My father is the Chosen One."
"Hmm. The Senator from Naboo, then?"
Danaé shook her head. "No. My sister is the Senator. And my mother was."
"Ah, yes. The great pilot you must be."
"No. That's my brother. Well, and my father," she sighed. She had no idea what he was getting at.
"None of these you are, hmm?"
"That's right."
"Yet a Skywalker you say you are."
"No. I mean, yes. Yes. I'm a Skywalker." Untangling her confused thoughts nearly caused her to slip on a wet log, but she held her balance and sprang ahead.
"What means this to you, hmm? Quite unlike the others you are, I think."
"It's not like that," she insisted. "I have much in common with them too. I am a Jedi like my father and brother. I care much for the welfare of others like my mother and sister. I'm not so different from them."
"But different you are nonetheless."
She thought about it again. "Yes, I suppose so."
"Your destiny, different from your father's you think it is, no?"
"Of course. I'm not the Chosen One."
"Different from your brother's too, hmm?"
"Yes. I guess. I don't know what his destiny is. How could I?"
"But different from yours you think it is."
"Yes." She took a deep breath, trying not to let her lack of comprehension interfere with the wonderful way the Force flowed through her body as she glided through the bog.
"A Skywalker you are. But your own path you must find," the patient Master declared firmly. Then he let her dash through the swamp in silence for several minutes.
To avoid a large boulder she quickly pulled herself up a vine, swung past the rock, and landed on her feet on the other side. "Who is more powerful," Yoda asked quietly when her long, smooth strides resumed. "You or Jade?"
"What?" She pondered the idea. It never had occurred to her in quite those stark terms before. "Neither. Well, both. I mean, it depends on what you're talking about."
"Neither and both at the same time it cannot be."
"Why not? Mara is stronger with the lightsaber and energy strikes. I'm stronger with healing and mind compulsion. We both have strengths and weaknesses."
"Compare yourself to her as a Jedi do you?"
Danaé laughed. "Sometimes."
"And different you are. Just like your family."
"Yes."
Yoda finally returned to his point. "When you train as a Jedi, whom do you seek to become?"
She shook her head again. "I'm sorry, Master Yoda. I don't understand."
"Who are you?" he asked again. "Whom seek you to become?"
She jogged briskly through the swamp in silence, mulling over the impossible question. But it was not impossible at all. "Myself," she finally said authoritatively. "I'm me. I seek to become myself."
"Good, good," Yoda exclaimed happily. "Learned an important lesson you have."
"But what does it mean," she asked softly. "I gave you the right answer, I know. But I'm not sure I understand its significance as you want me to."
"Honest you are," Yoda chuckled. "Serve you well that will, hmm?" The diminutive Master adjusted himself in the harness. "Differ your talents do, from those around you. Excel at many things you do. In some ways more skilled than your father you will be, when his age you reach. In other ways weaker. For your mother or your sister or your brothers or Jade the same is true."
Danaé considered the words. "And also for my destiny," she whispered. "I must find my own path."
"Yes, young one," Yoda smiled, patting her shoulders encouragingly.
"Even if it differs greatly from theirs."
"The truth you see now, hmm?"
"Yes," she smiled. Her feet pounded along the muddy ground, sweeping her past trees and ferns and small lizards hunting insects. It felt to her as if the Force had begun to flow even more strongly inside her. As if she were gaining strength as she ran instead of tiring. The weight in the harness seemed lighter now too. "Master Yoda?"
"Yes, young Padawan?"
"Has Master Kenobi ever had an… attachment?"
"Hmm, not sure I am, whether I should answer," Yoda sighed. "But answer I will." He paused and took a slow breath. "Loved Master Jinn like a father Obi-Wan did. Loves Anakin like a son he does. But an attachment like your parents share, hmm? No. In that way he has not." Before she could speak, he tapped her shoulder. "Nor have I, in case you wonder. My attachment is to the Force. Nothing more have I ever desired."
Danaé took a deep breath. "That is how I feel," she sighed. "It is how I have always felt. And I always thought something was wrong with me because of it." The pace of her running slowed just a bit. "Until now I didn't realize it isn't a problem. It's just who I am." She straightened up and began to run faster again. "Who I am."
"Done well you have," Yoda said appreciatively. "Proud of you I am. Only one more lesson for today there is."
"Yes, Master Yoda."
A few moments later Yoda pointed with his gimer stick. "Down there. Then stop we can."
Sliding down a vine, Danaé landed in a small clearing. She shrugged off the harness and carefully lowered Yoda to the ground.
Immediately her awareness sharpened and her arms and legs assumed a stance of readiness. She surged her feelings out into the Force. Behind her she sensed Yoda walk a few paces and sit down on a tree stump.
She detected a great disturbance in the Force. Disease. Decay. Death. Animals skirted this clearing, going out of their way to avoid it. Even the plants seemed to radiate fear. Most of all, in the middle of this hot, humid swamp she felt…
Cold.
Scanning with her eyes, she saw nearby a giant tree. Sickly. Rotting. Nearly lifeless. Its broad limbs hung limply in the air, nearly devoid of leaves. At its base the black roots seemed to form an opening. It looked like the mouth of a cave.
Danaé spun around and looked at Yoda. He was gazing up at her contemplatively, his hands clasped one atop the other on his gimer stick, which rested on the ground. He said nothing. Yet she knew he perceived the same things she did. She stared at him and still he sat silently.
She turned back and focused both her eyes and her concentration on the dark tree.
Her body was markedly overheated from hours of exertion – but she shivered from the chill.
"Master Yoda," she gasped, "what is this place?"
---
Mara stood in the shadows of the Mos Eisley alley, waiting for Luke to return. They had arrived the previous day on their hunch that the two missing Padawans had disappeared here while investigating the Hutt Criminal Syndicate's weapons shipment to Vyhrragian-controlled space. It hadn't taken more than a few credit-laden handshakes to learn the location of the compound in the city center that served as the Hutts' command outpost in the city. Several more bribes had confirmed that the Hutts were detaining a pair of Jedi, and that the compound was the most likely place they would be held. Luke was tracking down one final lead before they could be confident about reaching a final conclusion.
Mara leaned her head out toward the street and gazed across the dusty thoroughfare at the walls of the Hutts' compound fifty meters away. It was no doubt heavily guarded and quite secure. But it couldn't be any worse than the Vyhrragian prison on Xixus from which they had rescued Leia just over six months ago. With a deep sigh, she hoped she didn't have to find out.
Just then Luke glided into the shadows to join her. "That was easy," he smiled as he drew down the hood of his swirling indigo cloak.
She lowered the hood of her black cloak and raised her eyebrows. "Really?"
"The Hutts ought to hire agents who aren't so weak-minded," he winked.
She grinned too. "So what did you find out?"
"Bad news," he frowned. "He's seen them with his own eyes, so they're definitely in the compound. The problem is that sometime this afternoon, maybe soon, they're being moved."
"Moved? Where?"
He brushed his sandy-brown hair out of his eyes. "They're being taken to the palace. Jabba the Hutt's palace."
"That doesn't sound good."
"It's not. No prisoner taken there has ever returned alive."
Mara furrowed her brow. "Where is the palace? Would be able to track them there and maintain surveillance?"
"I don't think so," he shook his head. "It's way out in the desert. It's isolated. We'd have nowhere to hide and nothing to eat or drink."
"So our only chance is to free them before they're taken there."
"It seems that way," Luke grimaced. "But we've been ordered not to. The rules of engagement were very clear. Locate, report, and call for backup if necessary. No confrontations."
"I remember the orders," she snapped. "But the orders assume there's time for that. They can't possibly have intended for us to do nothing in a situation like this."
"Why not?" he asked reluctantly. "Maybe there's something we don't know. If we go in and get overwhelmed, we could end up with four prisoners instead of two. Or four dead Jedi instead of two."
"You can't be serious!"
"We may not like the orders, Mara, but they're still the orders."
She glared at him. Hard. "This is about the Trials, isn't it?"
"Partly," he conceded.
"You don't want to disobey orders because you're worried it'll be held against you in standing for the Trials."
Luke shot her an angry stare. "It will be. Don't kid yourself. Even if we succeed perfectly, it will be."
"You're willing to put your Trials ahead of their lives?" She couldn't imagine that was what he really wanted to do. "I can't believe you actually feel that way."
"If it were up to me, no," he said grimly, "I wouldn't. But it's not my decision. Orders are orders."
"Forget the orders, Luke!" She nearly stormed away, but she stopped herself. She took a deep breath and met his eyes again. "Let's quit talking around the issue. We both know who it is in there. I can sense them in the Force now that we're close enough. So can you. Let's get it out in the open."
"It's Ralli and Gars," he said. "Our friends, okay? Two of our best friends in the whole Temple, and that's why they didn't tell us who it was when we got this assignment."
"That's right," she glared. "Our friends. He's one of my best sparring partners, and she was…" She almost couldn't bring herself to say it, but she did. "And she was your lover. We have to help them."
"We can't, Mara," he insisted in anguish. "We don't know all the facts. We don't know what we're facing in there. We don't…"
"Oh, give me a break, Luke," she growled. "This isn't about the facts we don't know. It isn't about our orders. It's about you. You're so concerned about what might happen to you that you're forgetting that our friends are going to be killed. They're going to be executed, Luke. The Hutts are going to murder them unless we prevent it."
"I know that, Mara," he snarled. "And our Masters probably knew that too when they gave us our orders, but they gave them anyway."
She couldn't contain her frustration any longer, and she let it boil over in a vicious shout. "We can't just stand here and let them die!"
He flinched and turned away. There was a long, painful pause before he turned back to face her again. "You're right," he sighed. "You're right."
"I knew you'd come around!" She was so delighted at his change of heart that without thinking she reached up, crushed her hands to the sides of his face, and kissed him full on the lips – a quick, firm, satisfying, triumphant, glorious kiss.
He stood there, looking at her, his hands hanging limply at his sides. He was completely dumbfounded.
She smiled. "Luke?"
He blinked. Repeatedly.
She waved a hand past his eyes. "Hey! Skywalker!"
He blinked one last time, then spoke. "Do you have a plan to get them out?"
"Something of one," she said. "I've observed the compound from the outside, and from some rooftops. I think I know how to get us into the detention area. I'm sure we can sense our way around inside. It'll be fast."
"It had better be. There's only two of us."
"We don't have much time," she said impatiently, motioning him toward the bright street. "Let's go."
"I hope you know what you're doing," Luke sighed.
"Everything I know I learned from your father," Mara winked.
He frowned. "That's what I'm afraid of."
---
Corporal Kessa Brittin was almost jogging as she rushed along, trying her best to keep pace with her superior's enormous strides. His heavy blaster rifle clattered against the backplate of his shining black Special Forces battle armor as they hurried down the narrow hallway in the secured recesses of the Galactic Senate building. The sound reminded her to check the safety on the large black blaster pistol strapped to her hip, which marked a sharp contrast to the rest of her dress-whites uniform. When she looked up again from confirming the safety was engaged, she had fallen behind him again. With a quick burst of speed she arrived at his side as they turned the corner.
Major Bryon Skywalker's deep, rich voice boomed into the dim hallway. "How long did the lockdown implementation take?"
Kessa glanced quickly at her datapad, which was receiving a constant stream of incoming data. "Two minutes, fourteen seconds, sir."
"Acceptable," the gigantic officer grumbled, "but not excellent. Remind me to schedule more drills for next week."
"Yes, sir," Kessa nodded, entering the instruction immediately in her notes.
They almost had reached the command bunker for the west quadrant of the building as he glanced down at her again. "We are certain it was a false alarm?"
"Yes, sir."
"That is a relief."
Kessa could see in his brown eyes his sincere appreciation that there had been no combat or casualties within the walls of the Senate facility. On the other hand, his grim frown suggested that the parties responsible for the unnecessary emergency alarms and lockdown were not out of danger.
The door to the command bunker swished upward and they entered the windowless room to find First Sergeants Krannar and Pryzill standing over a holographic crisis assessment table projecting images of all the corridors and rooms in the west quadrant. Captain Graff was huddled with a pair of Senate guards at a viewscreen console displaying images from the building's security cameras.
Major Skywalker joined the battle-armored sergeants at the table. "Status report."
"The lockdown was implemented within time parameters," explained Krannar. "The hot zone was contained to a single entrance concourse. This one – here," he pointed on the multicolored hologram.
"Three male members of the Kuati delegation were carrying concealed blasters," continued Pryzill. The Zabrak rubbed his fingers along the short horns on his forehead as he spoke. "All others in the concourse were cleared within minutes. The Senator from Kuat claims a misunderstanding and that she did not approve the arms carried by members of her personal staff."
"Unlikely," Major Skywalker scoffed. "In another delegation, perhaps, but not Kuat. No male subordinate would dare take such a step without the Senator's approval. Their social conventions of female leadership and the primacy of honor would never permit it."
Will Graff had joined them at the table. "I agree," the towering Alderaanian said. "It was not a misunderstanding. We have confirmed that the men were long-time staffers of the Senator, however. They were not infiltrators, and it seems unlikely they have betrayed their Senator or planned to assassinate anyone else."
Major Skywalker nodded. "They sought additional protection for their Senator, and sought it secretly rather than following proper channels for approval of armed bodyguards." He looked down to Kessa. "Release the lockdown and authorize the Senate guards to return to normal operations."
"Yes, sir," Kessa nodded, sending the order immediately from her datapad.
"We will begin our investigation at once," Major Skywalker declared after a short pause. "Who remains detained?"
"The Senator has been released," Graff reported, "but we still hold the three staffers and her chief of security. All four men are in solitary detention cells just down the hall."
"Very good," Major Skywalker said, finally smiling a little. "Well done, my friends. Help the guards resume normal operations, and we will have a debriefing meeting in two hours. Kessa, stay with me."
Kessa tucked her datapad under her arm and followed him out into the hallway. A shiver ran down her spine, and she said a silent prayer that the detainees would be cooperative. Without needing to be told she knew what information he would want first. "The security chief is in room twenty-three."
"Excellent," Major Skywalker replied. "I will interrogate him myself."
---
A few minutes later the two dark-clad Jedi apprentices strode through the arching entryway to the Hutts' compound into a sandy courtyard a dozen meters square. The noontime suns beat down on them with a searing heat that seemed as if it would bake them alive. The air was completely still and silent. No one was there. The mere presence of the Syndicate's goons was so intimidating that no one dared venture inside. They had gone nearly a third of the way across the empty area when a door on the left wall opened and a man with a blaster rifle charged out.
"Hey!" barked the man angrily. "Stop right there!"
Mara smirked to herself as they kept walking.
"I said stop!" A single bolt from the blaster rifle slammed into the dirt at their feet and sent showers of sand spraying into the air.
Mara snapped her lightsaber handle into her palm and continued on ahead.
From other side doors of the courtyard four more gangsters appeared, along with a complement of about two dozen obsolete battle droids from the old Trade Federation war factories decades ago.
The hooligan charging from the left gave no more warnings. "Open fire!"
Mara spun to face him, her violet blade shimmering in front of her to deflect away his incoming blaster bolts. With ease she sent two bolts right back at him, causing him to stop shooting. She sprang forward with a Force-powered leap and came down just to the side of him. An instantaneous arc of her laser sword sliced his rifle in half, and on the follow through her left elbow connected fiercely with his forehead. As the man slumped to the ground, unconscious, she whirled around to face the other two gangsters approaching her.
Immersed in the Force, she sensed Luke a few yards away. He already had dispatched the pair of gangsters on his side by severing the barrels of their blasters and kicking them powerfully in their heads. She perceived the surge in the Force as he drew upon its energy to blast an invisible wave at the battle droids, smashing most of them into complete dysfunction. He surged forward against the remaining droids, deflecting away their blaster bolts and chopping them apart with ease.
Mara's blade snapped away a few more blaster shots from the gangsters as she pondered her strategy. Then she sensed a trio of battle droids heading toward her from behind and realized she had no more time. She jumped into the air again straight at the startled gangsters. Before they could react she began to come down between them, and as she did she kicked her legs out to the sides. A boot connected with each of their heads with a dull smack, and she landed gracefully in the now empty space between them.
She ducked to avoid the shots from the battle droids, then stood upright again and flicked her palm outward. Her invisible strike in the Force smashed the trio of droids coming at her, as well as four more behind them. Spinning on her heel she faced the remaining droids, and with quick swipes of her lightsaber deflected their blaster fire directly back into them.
In a matter of seconds she and Luke now stood in the courtyard with five unconscious sentients and piles of wrecked battle droids. She looked over at him and smiled. "See? I told you it would be fast."
He laughed. "Did you learn that from my father, too?"
"Learn what?"
"How to take credit for everything?"
She shot him a falsely stern glare. "Oh, shut up."
He motioned toward the doors at the far end of the courtyard. "After you."
As they ran to the door they deactivated their blades and plunged their minds more deeply into the Force, pulling its energy into their bodies and achieving greater perception of their surroundings. They also directed its flow between their minds, forming a link between their conscious and subconscious thoughts. Without speaking they decided that Luke would lock his awareness to Ralli Gialla and Gars Von Krindlemeier and figure out the quickest path to them through the hallways inside the building, and that Mara would focus on the numerous Force presences in the compound and plan their defense against any who opposed them.
Luke used the Force to disable the locking mechanism on the door, and it slid upward with a hiss. They rushed inside and turned to the right.
Mara followed Luke blindly, trusting him to lead the way. She monitored all the movements in the building. Although she couldn't hear them, from the emotional surges she detected in the Force she knew alarms had been sounded and the gangsters were aware of intruders to the compound.
He took them to the left around another corner of the dimly lit hallways, and signaled his intentions about a further path toward their captive friends.
She determined it wouldn't be a problem and conveyed her agreement with her thoughts. Then she perceived a single guard heading at them from a side hallway. They continued to run toward the cellblock without slowing down. A moment later their path crossed the ruffian's – and Mara smacked him firmly between the eyes with the butt of her lightsaber handle.
Only a few seconds later they arrived in a dark hallway full of empty cells. In its middle, though, was the cell containing their friends. Through Luke's concentration Mara could sense their bright presences in the Force with ease even as she kept her focus on the enemies in the compound.
Luke's turquoise blade snap-hissed in the gloomy darkness of the cellblock. With a swift blow he shattered the manual durasteel lock and flung open the solid metal door of the cell.
The sight inside shocked them.
Their two friends sat opposite each other on stone benches inside the cell. Gars had a hugely swollen black eye and his left arm clearly was broken below the elbow. Usually so elegantly composed, he was hunched over in pain. Ralli's ordinarily luscious blonde hair was matted and grimy, and she had a nasty gash across the left side of her face that was scabbed and infected. Worst of all, she was clutching her hands to her abdomen, which was wrapped in layers of dirty bandages soaked through with blood.
Nonetheless the two prisoners sprang to their feet when Luke and Mara charged into the cell. "I told him I sensed you," Ralli tried to smile as she grimaced in pain. She glared at Gars. "You never believe me."
Gars shrugged, then winced at the sting moving his injured arm had caused. "Sorry."
"Let's negotiate this later," Mara laughed. "We don't have any time. We have to go. Now."
Luke looked quickly at their friends. "Can you run? We'll have to run."
"It'll hurt," Ralli admitted. "But with the Force as my ally, I can do it."
Luke
nodded. "Your blades, can you sense
them?"
"No," Gars shook his head. "They were taken and destroyed."
"Okay," Mara said. "Then stick close to us. We'll cover you."
Their two friends nodded, and Luke led them to the door. He met Mara's eyes with an anguished look of great apprehension.
She chuckled weakly. "I said it would be fast. I never said it would be easy."
---
The wavering blue holographic image formed over the large mahogany desk. "The strike force is in position, General," the hooded woman said.
"This is excellent news, Lady Delicti," Tarkin smiled. "We are now ahead of schedule."
"Yes, General," she replied calmly. "What are your orders?"
"Proceed immediately."
"Understood, General. The attack will commence at once."
Tarkin waved his pale, thin fingers over the projector and terminated the transmission. After a deep breath, he steepled his fingers and looked up at the tall, black-cloaked figure standing a few paces in front of the desk. "If you have something to say, say it."
"Master Vengous will be returning shortly from Naboo," stated a grim male voice flatly. "You should have sought her counsel."
"Your opinion is noted, Lord Regelous," Tarkin chuckled. "But your Master has delegated full war-making authority to me. And I am confident she will concur in any event."
The Sith Lord nodded. "Do you think the diversion will work?"
"Of course it will work," Tarkin smiled. "The Republic is completely unprepared for this assault. And the additional time between it and the principal attack with increase the effectiveness of the diversion. When the full attack comes, we will have seized the element of surprise. Victory will be swift."
"I concur," Darth Regelous said firmly. "And at last the annihilation of the Skywalkers will be achieved."
---
The noontime sky was bright and cloudless in Aldera, the capital city of Alderaan. Crowds mingled in the streets and speeders soared through the air. Birds sang and insects chirped. The white marble buildings of the government district, built in a classical style reminiscent of Naboo and other artistically renowned worlds, shined in the sunlight with a radiance that seemed to affirm the spirit of the people of this pacifist, unarmed system in the galaxy's Core.
Suddenly the calm was shattered by a deafening screech. Those who looked up in time saw massive laser bolts as wide as a landspeeder sailing straight down from the cerulean sky. In an instant the red bolts slammed into the city, shattering the stone structures and shaking the ground with the violence of a powerful groundquake.
The orbital bombardment continued without interruption. Each second dozens of the gigantic spears of light smashed buildings, cratered streets, and pounded the ornate edifices into pieces. The piercing shriek of the countless descending bolts and the thundering explosions of the impacts drowned out the screams of the panicked and the dying.
When the attack finally ended a quarter hour later, the smoke of the burning rubble clogged the air and blotted out the sun. So pervasive was the devastation that no emergency sirens sounded in the now eerily quiet city. Only crackling from innumerable fires, cries of the wounded, and wails of mourning rose from the obliterated capital.
---
Sabé put an arm around Padmé and pulled her closer. The two of them were huddled together on a sofa in the Naboo delegation suite at the Senate, helping each other manage their shock and grief from the news of the Vyhrragian attack on Alderaan. "This is unbelievable," she said softly. "We will have to open a Board of Inquiry immediately."
"I know," Padmé whispered from the comfort of Sabé's shoulder. "How could this happen? How could the Vyhrragians get such a large fleet into the Core without being detected? They had to cross nearly two sectors to get there. How is that possible?"
"The High Council of Fleet Admirals will have a lot to answer for, there's no doubt about that."
"This is so awful. Millions, they're saying. All the major cities. Undefended civilian targets. Millions. I can't even comprehend it."
"It's a terrible tragedy," Sabé sighed forlornly. "And it could happen again anywhere."
"That's what frightens me," Padmé nodded. "Naboo at least has some planetary defenses, but we couldn't hold off an attack like this. There's no way."
"We'll just have to hope it doesn't happen. It's all we can do."
Padmé lifted her head up and wiped her eyes. "Play back that last part of the speech again."
"Sure," Sabé said. She reached over to the small table beside the sofa and tapped on the viewscreen's controller. A moment later the screen activated and displayed a still image of King Argis IV of Vyhrrag.
The video image began to play. "Let today be a lesson to all those who have stood idly by while the Republic inflicts horror beyond imagination upon my people," the tyrant declared bombastically from his usual perch on a balcony of his royal palace. "The New Justice movement seeks only fairness and equity. We seek only to share in the prosperity and peace of the Core worlds. In return we have received only violence. Our calls for conciliation have been rejected. Our prayers for peace have been ignored. Today our patience has run out. If we must, we will defend ourselves against this unjustified and illegal aggression. Listen carefully, Chancellor Millius, and mark these words. Your homeworld will be but the first of the planets of the Core to suffer this fate if you do not change your course. It is not too late to end our disagreements by negotiation." Argis raised his clenched fists into the air. "But if you mean to have a war, then let it begin today!" The cheering of his throngs of supporters on the plaza beneath the balcony was cut off when Sabé tapped the controller again.
"It's disgusting," Padmé growled. "It's all lies. It's so patently deceitful."
"I'm sure everyone will see it that way, Padmé," soothed Sabé reassuringly. "The Holonet certainly is giving no credence to any of Argis' arguments. Everyone knows it's only rhetoric."
"You're right, I'm sure," Padmé sighed. She took a deep breath and took Sabé's hands in hers. "Do you think Leia and Sarré know? Do you think we should contact them?"
"I doubt they've heard yet," Sabé said thoughtfully. "They're pretty isolated on Pharenniol." She squeezed her dear friend's hands. "And I don't think we should contact them. We'll hear from them within a few days anyway. Telling them now will only worry them needlessly."
"I guess so," Padmé nodded, pulling her hands away to wipe her eyes again. "How is Nalé taking this?"
"Hard. She's pretty traumatized." Sabé brushed a few stray locks of hair out of Padmé's face. "Alain's with her at home. I can stay as long as you need."
"Thanks," Padmé smiled weakly.
"Sure," Sabé nodded. She knew how desperately Padmé wished Anakin were here right now, how painfully alone her friend would feel at home tonight in an empty bed. She would do what she could to help, just as Padmé always did for her.
After a minute Padmé spoke again. "I just hope we can carry the votes in the Senate tomorrow. We can't delay any longer with all-out war. We have to strike at Argis now. It's only going to get much, much worse if we don't."
Sabé smiled. She didn't have to be persuaded on those points in the slightest, but she knew it helped Padmé manage her pain to say them. She pulled Padmé into another embrace. "We'll prevail. I know we will."
---
Three days of investigation had resulted in nothing. The pair of Jedi Masters had examined nearly every stained-glass window, painting, sculpture, and icon in the Cathedral of the Liberation and had found nothing that seemed even remotely to be a clue about the revived Sith menace. Hours of meditation in the small prayer vestibules had yielded no hints from the Force either. Anakin was beginning to wonder whether they had misinterpreted the nightmare vision completely. Striding briskly through the crowds gathered in the main hall, he at least knew where he would find Obi-Wan.
His destination was a hidden alcove off a side hallway in the northwest corner of the Cathedral. It contained a life-size statue of Qui-Gon Jinn. Anakin stopped just behind the shoulder of the brown-cloaked figure standing in front of the marble likeness. "We made the right decision," he said quietly, "to allow this. The Naboo want it here. Padmé always wanted to honor him. They appreciate it very much."
"I know," Obi-Wan said quietly. "That is not what troubles me any longer."
"What, then?"
"It's so… accurate," Obi-Wan sighed. "Every time I see it, I expect him to slap me on the back and ask me why it's been so long. It's almost… too real."
Anakin wrapped an arm around his companion's shoulders. "I feel that too. The first time I saw this, I actually thought I heard his voice. Asking me how many more Podraces I'd won, of all things."
Obi-Wan laughed. "I miss him."
"So do I."
They stood silently for a few minutes, gazing at the smiling visage of their long-dead friend. Finally Obi-Wan shook his head and turned away. "We've done enough for today. I will meditate again tonight. After that…"
Anakin shook his head in frustration as he turned around and led the way back toward the main hall. "One more day. If we still have found nothing, we simply will have to start again from the beginning."
"I agree," Obi-Wan nodded.
They reached the main hall and began to move through the crowd in the direction of the great doors on the far end. The expansive chamber was dozens of meters across and nearly a hundred meters long, with arching ceilings that soared high into the air. The warm glow of the setting sun streamed in through the windows, the images in the colored glass sparkling the visitors with a multitude of hues.
While they navigated through the throng, Anakin dropped his mind into the Force and scanned the emotions and feelings of those he passed. They varied from happiness to grief, tranquility to passion, and faith to cynicism. From beneath the cowl of his brown cloak he gazed at the faces of the men and woman, humans and Gungans, who came here to pray, meditate, think, or simply honor the planet's fallen heroes.
He saw an elderly woman and felt her sorrow for her son, lost in battle against the Trade Federation. He saw a middle-aged Gungan and felt his pride at the courage of a father he barely could remember. He saw a teenaged couple huddled in a pew and felt their simple pleasure at being able to hold hands away from prying parental eyes. He saw a soldier in dress whites and felt his solemn plea for safety in his impending deployment.
He met the eyes of a woman and felt nothing.
In that very instant he heard a whisper in the Force. So quiet it was almost inaudible. The same one he had heard over twenty years ago in the Lake Country. Identical.
"Vader."
His heart stopped beating. His stomach lurched. He stopped breathing. His feet did not move forward.
Immediately his eyes searched for the woman again. He found her but she no longer faced him. He could see only the side of her face and a few tendrils of straight black hair that leaked out from the hood of her black cloak. Surging his feelings toward her in the Force, he again found nothing.
Obi-Wan, who at first had continued walking, by now had sensed his sudden action and had walked back to him. "What is it?"
Anakin compelled his voice to speak. "That one," he indicated with his eyes. "In black. She's… empty. And I heard it again. In the Force. The voice. The name."
Obi-Wan followed the gaze and squinted in concentration. A heartbeat later his eyes popped open widely and his white eyebrows rose as high as Anakin had ever seen. "Is it truly possible?"
Anakin had not taken his eyes from the figure moving gradually away from them. "There is only one way to find out for certain," he said quietly. There was no reluctance in his voice.
"I will be at your side," Obi-Wan said, resting a hand on Anakin's shoulder. "If you believe you must."
"We have no choice. We will have only this one chance."
"I know."
Anakin kept his eyes on the black-cloaked woman receding in the crowd. He took several deep breaths and cleared his mind. Then he prepared to do something he had not done in many years.
Touch the dark side of the Force.
In his mind's eye he found the perfect pathway. First he thought of Lillaé, the young girl whose life he had changed simply because he could – without even learning her surname. Then he thought about what would have happened to her had he not intervened.
Anger began to smolder in a distant point far back in his mind.
Then he remembered the sharp cry of her fear that he had perceived in the Force. What it meant. All the times he had felt it in Mos Espa as a boy.
The smoldering embers grew into a bonfire. Its heat warmed the back of his neck.
Then he dredged up from the depths of long-repressed memory the attack on his mother that terrible night. Her fear. Her horrifying fear. Her shrieking agony in the Force.
The bonfire erupted into a raging conflagration. Beads of sweat formed on his brow.
And then, last of all, he remembered his failure. His weakness. His powerlessness. His inability to protect her. He should have been able to stop her pain. No matter how much Jedi serenity he had imposed on himself over these long years, deep down in his soul he never had forgiven himself for it.
The conflagration of anger exploded into a violent cyclone of hatred. He was at its center.
Anakin's eyes came into focus again on the black-cloaked woman. With the scorching power of the dark side swirling around his body in the Force, he charged his feelings at her again.
She stopped in her tracks and spun around.
She was smiling.
She stood there. Unmoving. Her brown eyes flickered with a fiery fury as they held his in the most intense stare he ever had experienced.
She was smiling.
With its ferocity encircling his awareness, Anakin could sense the power of the dark side in her. She was the Sith Master. He had no doubt. Quickly he sent more of his feelings at her and perceived not only her strength in the dark side but also her connections to her apprentices. How many he could not tell, but she was connected to all of them.
She was smiling.
Anakin remained rooted in place. Do it, he heard himself think. Now. She is here. She and her connection to all the Sith. All it takes is a thought. Think it, and they all die. Anakin took a step forward. It will all be over. The suffering. The pain. The danger. He took another step forward. Make her pay for what she did to Leia. For what she has done to the galaxy. For the agony she has inflicted on Padmé. Take revenge for all of us. Another step forward. Kill her. End this right here, right now.
She was smiling more broadly.
She reached out a hand to him.
Anakin smiled too. All I have to do is hate you, and you die. The cyclone of malice roared around his perceptions. On his signal it would burst forward and destroy her and her kind forever.
And his soul along with them.
No.
He closed his eyes. Instantly he called into his consciousness his favorite memory of Padmé – drenched in sweat, her long brown hair a hopelessly tangled mess, tears streaming down her face, cradling their newborn twins in her arms.
With a final howl of raw violence the blazing cyclone vanished into nothingness.
Anakin opened his eyes again and saw the Sith Master.
She was no longer smiling. She spun around and charged away through the crowd as quickly as she could.
"Run! She must not get away," yelled Anakin as he and Obi-Wan burst after her simultaneously. "Don't let her out of your sight!"
"I don't plan to," Obi-Wan grinned.
The screams of the panicking crowd rose into the rafters of the Cathedral of the Liberation as the two Jedi Masters began the most important chase of their lives.