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She was seated at an ornate desk facing a large transparisteel window. She stared at the magnificent view of the Imperial city scene before her, but did not really see it. Behind her, the steady, rhythmic breathing of Darth Vader sounded almost impatient.

"Your dislike of me is obvious," he rumbled. "I can assure you that I am not particularly fond of the idea of working with you either. However, we can either cooperate and work with each other and make this as pleasant as possible, or we can bicker and quarrel pointlessly and not accomplish anything."

Mara swiveled her chair to face him. Vader was standing behind her like a towering shadow, stiff and apparently unused to bargaining with people. She allowed herself a moment of enjoyment at seeing his discomfort. She rose to her feet. The Dark Lord stood over her, trying to appear as intimidating as possible. She refused to be unsettled and she gazed challengingly up at the dark polished eyes.

"I will work and cooperate with you only because it is what the Emperor has ordered that I do. "

"Then let's not waste time."

Her eyes glared fiery darts at him, but his hidden gaze was immune to her glare. She gave up, reaching down and picking up her datapad from the desk. They were supposed to work together. Right. "Our first item of business will be narrowing down Skywalker's location." She cocked an eyebrow at the dark Lord. "A search that would be greatly simplified by employing the famous father-son Force bond we've heard so much about. Don't you agree?"

Vader was silent for a moment, his head tilted in a direction that she could tell he was gazing not at her, but out the window. Mara knew she shouldn't push it, knew, like a distant reminder in the back of her mind, that the dark lord was dangerous, that she should treat him as such, but the words came out of her mouth anyway. "You CAN still sense Skywalker can't you?"

The dark lord didn't answer. The only sound was the measured tempo of his rhythmic breathing. She watched as he took a step past her, black-gloved fingers taking the second datapad off the desk. He glanced at it and then up at the window, his back to Mara. She was beginning to think he wasn't going to answer her. Did that mean that Vader could no longer sense his son? That was interesting. She considered asking him, but did not want to risk an explosion of his infamous temper. They did have to work together.

"He has grown very strong in the Force," Vader said finally, his rumbling voice sounding quiet and subdued. He did not turn around.

Mara studied the dark profile, trying to interpret the odd tone of his voice. Had Vader suddenly decided to confide in her or something?

"Yes," she agreed finally. "He has."

So in other words, Vader could not sense Skywalker. That certainly would slow down their search. She cleared her throat and lifted her datapad, studying it briefly. "Then the first thing we will need to do to narrow the search down is to locate the ship he stole."

"He's not stupid," Vader commented, finally turning around. "I'm sure he is long rid of it by now."

"Yes, I'm sure he is," Mara nodded. "But it's a big galaxy. At least this is a place to start."

Vader sighed and nodded. "Very well," he replied. "That is your first assignment."

Mara gritted her teeth in irritation. "Don't push the cooperation thing," she growled.

His sarcasm was difficult to miss as he sketched a slight bow. "My sincere apologies."

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

It was late in the afternoon and the waning sunlight filtered through the high windows of the droid-repair shop, spilling shafts of light on the oil- stained permacrete floor and illuminating the dust in the air.

Luke crouched, gyrospanner in hand, over a disassembled droid, its rusted innards spewed about the floor like the entrails of a gutted beast. He wore a stained and faded blue-gray coverall, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His expression of creased brows and gritted teeth and the tense straining of his arm muscles betrayed the effort required for him to attempt to pry free a particularly stubborn bolt that had apparently been rusted on. He bit his lip and braced his whole weight against the bolt, but it still refused to budge.

Luke clenched his teeth and tried again, but without any luck. The habit of reaching out for the constant hovering option of his Force ability to help him in his task was automatic and convenient, but he had to consciously put the idea aside. He made one last half-hearted attempt before expelling a tired breath and setting his tool down on the ground. He stood there for a moment rubbing his throbbing hand.

Using the Force to help remove the bolt would greatly simplify his task, to be sure, but that dangerous well of power was no longer an alternative in his life. He knew he must forget its existence and figure out how to get along by himself, without enlisting its aid. The sooner he grew accustomed to living without the Force, the better his hope of staying hidden from the reaching gaze of the rotting beast that was the head of the Empire. And he knew they were looking for him.

He sighed, rubbing his cheek. He wasn't sure who he thought he was fooling. The Empire had hunted down and killed all the Jedi before him, and all of them, most assuredly, had been stronger and better able to succeed at hiding or fighting back than he could possibly hope to be in his ill-planned and seat-of-the-pants strategy for evading capture, and yet all but a very few of those Jedi had succumbed.

It was really only a matter of time before they found him.

And he was again reminded of his sister, and the danger she was in. That Luke could possibly get severely punished or killed was of little consequence to him so long as he somehow managed to hang on to the light. But Vader and Palpatine knew of Leia's existence. Surely, as a Skywalker, she possessed the same powers and strengths that he did. Surely, they knew that. And surely they would not pass on such an opportunity to use that power to their own destructive ends.

*Then what are you doing here hiding and worrying about yourself when she is in peril?* a small, accusing voice in his mind demanded.

*I'm trying to keep her safe by keeping her out of this!* Luke thought to himself quickly, his temper flaring suddenly, unexpectedly. But he felt a stab of guilt even as he thought this. He had friends that were kind and loyal to a fault. They had risked their lives for him countless times. Now when it came his turn to help them and fight for them, what was he doing? Nothing more than giving them the grief of letting them believe him to be dead, standing by and WATCHING as the Alliance was conveniently destroyed by Imperials, hiding out on a third-rate planet thinking only of his own safety and well-being.

*Some friend you are, Luke Skywalker,* the voice in his mind taunted. *Some Jedi you turned out to be--*

*Stop it!* Luke mentally shouted to himself.

The loud, wooden clatter of the shop's door slamming shook Luke back to the present, reminding him that he was supposed to be working on a droid. He jerked his gaze away from the spot of sunlight on the floor where he realized he had been staring, and become conscious of the fact that his hand was clutching the gyrospanner so tightly that spasms were shooting up his arm. Forcibly, he calmed his rapid breathing and sought to clear away his tension and agitation. *Get a grip, Skywalker.*

"Benjamin, is that you?" he called, tilting his head toward the narrow hallway where the door had slammed.

"Hi Luke," the seven-year-old with the unruly rust-colored hair walked in. His face was grubby, his clothes rumpled, and he held carefully in both hands several of his miniature toy speeders. He grinned at the Jedi.

"Whatchya up to?" Luke asked, making himself smile back as he shoved the taunting memories to the back of his mind and set his tool down on a small wooden table.

Benjamin carefully emptied his handful of toys on the table and picked up one. "This broke and I was wondering if you could fix it for me."

"Oh--well let's see it," Luke crouched down next to the boy and gingerly took the toy, examining it for a minute.

Benjamin glanced around the shop for a few moments, and as Luke fiddled with the toy, he kept half an eye on the child to make sure that he didn't touch anything.

"Where's my uncle?" Benjamin asked, experimentally hefting the tool that Luke had set on the table.

"Um," Luke murmured, "He left a little while ago to take care of a couple of deliveries across town. He should be back any minute, actually."

Benjamin fiddled with the gyrospanner for a minute, and it seemed he was concentrating on carving a couple of new grooves in the table.

"Oh, here you go," Luke murmured, catching the boy's attention again. "This thing just slipped out. See? Now it's all fixed." He handed the speeder back.

Benjamin's grubby face beamed. "It works now? Can I drive it in here?"

"Well, you should probably take it outside--you know your uncle doesn't like for you to play in here."

"Okay then, we can go outside." The boy seized Luke's hand and attempted to pull the Jedi toward the door. "Come out and play with me!"

Luke smiled as he slipped his hand away. "I can't play right now--I've got work to do. Maybe we can play later, okay?"

Benjamin adopted a well-practiced whimpering expression. "No!" He whined. "I want to play NOW."

Luke sighed. "Benjamin, if you be good and let me work, maybe we can go to the playground or something in a little while, all right?"

The boy suddenly brightened, his face instantly transforming into an interested expression. "Okay," he said cheerfully.

"Good," Luke nodded, picking up his tool again and returning to the dismantled droid.

The door to the shop opened and then slammed with a loud clatter and heavy footsteps entered the narrow hallway.

"Uncle Aram!" Benjamin cried enthusiastically, beaming at the man as he entered.

"Hi Benjamin," Aram's voice said, sounding tired. "What are you doing in here, huh?" He entered and saw his employee crouched over a droid and answered his own question without skipping a beat. "Keeping poor Luke company, eh?"

"Yeah! And guess what? Luke said he would take me to play at the playground pretty soon!" the boy reported excitedly.

"Well is that so?" Aram smiled, and regarded the Jedi, chuckling. "I probably don't pay you enough, do I, Lars?"

Luke smiled and shook his head. "It's okay. I really don't mind."

"So when can we go?" Benjamin pestered Luke.

Aram sighed and said, "Not yet. Why don't you go play for now."

"But I don't want to--"

"Benjamin." his uncle started warningly. The boy took the hint and, looking only slightly disappointed, left the shop.

There was silence for a moment, and Luke concentrated with increasing frustration on prying the bolt loose.

"I hope Benjamin hasn't been annoying you too much."

Luke shook his head. "It's no problem."

"I hope not," Aram smiled slightly. "Because the boy has become more attached to you in the last couple of weeks than he has any of his school- mates in the past year. I think he's adopted you as his older brother or something."

"It's all right," the Jedi smiled. "I like kids, and I don't get to be around them very often."

Aram nodded, seeming to agree with what Luke said. "Children are wonderful, aren't they? Connah and I are very fortunate to be privileged to raise the boy." He smiled again.

"How long have you and your wife had custody of Benjamin?" Luke asked, hoping, as an afterthought, that it wasn't too personal a question.

Aram didn't seem to mind. "Ever since he was two," He answered. "His mother--Connah's younger sister--died quite suddenly in a freak accident five years ago and we took him in. Connah and Mauri were very close. As a result, Connah is fiercely protective of Benjamin. He is the only thing she has left of her sister. I think she's terrified that she'll somehow lose him."

Luke nodded in understanding, some of the pieces falling in place about this woman's puzzling behavior toward him: the guarded looks, wary conversations and overheard complaints to her husband about Luke.

"She doesn't like me very much, does she?" he said quietly.

Aram shook his head regretfully. "No, and I'm sorry for that. But please don't take it personally. She is just very cautious of strangers--and around here, heaven knows you have to be--and she's wary of people she doesn't know. She doesn't trust you as a rule."

Which was smart, really, Luke mused. He was actually surprised that Aram seemed to hold Luke, a perfect stranger, in such high regard, given the reputation of this city. "I see," he said quietly. "But I just have one question. How come." he began.

"I hired you?" Aram finished, smiling slightly. "Well because I'm a good judge of character and I can tell. Granted, you do have the looks of a kid who's on the run or something, but unless I'm way off my mark, you seem to be an honest worker and a decent person, and most importantly you're someone with the skills that I need."

He looked like someone on the run? Luke thought he'd been hiding it better than that.

"Thank you," he said quietly, turning his attention back to the stubborn bolt, but not making a move to work on it. "I appreciate your confidence in me. I hope I can deserve your praise."

"You've already done so," Aram told him, his features affecting a look of amused irony that somehow reminded Luke of Obi-wan Kenobi. "You do excellent work."

"But you're also right," Luke continued, a wistful smile coming to his lips. "In a way, I AM on the run." Aram certainly wasn't asking for Luke's story, but the Jedi felt he should explain obligated to his employer to give a reason and an alibi.

"Oh?" Aram asked casually.

Luke took a deep breath. Obi-wan had pointed out to him once that truth was only from a certain point of view. But to someone who had seen first- hand the damage that could be done and the people that could be hurt by this philosophy, Luke knew that "a certain point of view" was only a way of excusing lying and deceit. The Jedi had vowed never to do such a thing to anyone, but now it seemed he was about to stoop to that level anyway.

"My father," he began, "is a very wealthy man. For years, he has extended his manipulative influence over everyone around him, and used his extensive power to make people do whatever he wished."

Aram listened attentively, his face expressionless. Luke plowed on. "To escape from the demands that went against my morals and beliefs, and to break free of his sphere of power, I left--disappeared, and started out on my own. It was the only way I knew I could be free and independent of.all of it." He sighed. "My father is doubtlessly very angry with me and I know he will want to find me. He has enough money to hire as many people as it takes to do so. So, in a way, yes, I am on the run."

"I see," Aram answered. Luke didn't know whether the man believed him or not, but it appeared not to matter, for he was not going to question Luke's story. The Jedi went back to the dismantled droid. He despised himself for lying.

Again, he attacked the rusted bolt on the droid, releasing some of his frustration on the unyielding droid. The bolt came off.

*****

The playground was situated between several old and somewhat dilapidated buildings, in what was obviously one of the more derelict parts of town. The buildings towered over the area and cast long, late-afternoon shadows over the dead lawn of the rundown park. The large metal structure of swings and slides and poles looked as if it had formerly lived life as scrap metal before being converted to one of the sorriest excuses for a swing-set Luke had ever seen.

But despite the seedy appearance of the park, dozens of children, watched carefully by the usual assortment of parents and caretakers, had played happily; the noisy, joyful shouts of carefree kids somehow setting Luke's mind at ease.

Benjamin was crouched in the weed-ridden sandbox, as he had been contentedly for the past hour, playing with his toys and explaining happily to the Jedi seated next to him about everything from his toys to things at school to his favorite food. Luke simply nodded and replied occasionally, not really paying attention.

He recalled what it was like to live the innocent and untroubled life of a child, where the biggest concerns in life were doing chores and worrying about the local bullies. As a kid, Luke had thought he had it rough. By comparison, he was now without friends or relation, hiding from the biggest, most powerful organization in the galaxy, and worried to the point of a nervous breakdown.

Over the course of the next hour, the afternoon had grown into shadowy dusk, and slowly, the busy shouts of the playground dissipated as the children gradually dispersed and went home. Soon, Luke and Benjamin were one of the last remaining few still left in the park.

"We should get going pretty soon," Luke remarked to the boy during a lull in the child's animated conversation. "It's getting late-your uncle will be wondering where you are."

"Okay, just a second," was the hasty reply. "One time, at school, me and this kid named Kordu went and."

Luke suddenly stiffened, and Benjamin's voice faded from his hearing as a sudden familiar tingling of danger jolted his mind. He glanced around the near-deserted park, a surge of adrenaline suddenly giving an edge to his mind and actions as his hand automatically reached to his side for the lightsaber that wasn't there.

In the lengthening shadows he half-expected to catch a flash of light on white armor, to hear a muffled voice ordering that he put his hands in the air, or to feel the brutal shove of a heavy blaster carbine against his shoulder. But there were none of these things.

Luke quickly scanned his surroundings, his heart pounding, mouth dry, as the feeling of danger intensified. What was he doing here without a weapon? Years in the Alliance and associating with Han had made him very cautious about always being armed, and now there was danger here and he didn't even a have a blaster with him.

In the shadows, next to one of the buildings, Luke could make out the dark shape of a person dressed all in black. He recognized the man a moment later when he saw the unkempt hair was dyed an unnatural metallic shade of ebony. He was staring straight at Luke.

"Benjamin," Luke said quietly, his eyes flicking briefly to the boy and back to the raven-head who was watching them. "It's time for us to leave. Right now."

"But I don't want to go," the boy protested.

The Jedi took hold of Benjamin's wrist, gathering his toys in his other hand, and stood up, ignoring arguments. "Hurry," he urged.

Luke was unarmed and out in the open, against at least one of these gang- members who were, judging by the look this one was shooting at him, still harboring a grudge over events that occurred two weeks before in the spaceport cantina. He'd seen what kind of weapons they had, and he also was aware that he was going to have to protect Benjamin and would not be able to use the Force for fear of calling down half the Empire upon his head.

Each step Luke and Benjamin took away from the raven-head leaning against the building wall made the Jedi able to breathe easier. They weren't being followed, and the shout of danger was easing back to a gentle warning in the back of his mind.

"Why do we have to go home?" Benjamin whined, dragging his feet slightly at Luke's quickened pace. "I wanted to stay and play."

"We'll come some other time," Luke assured him. "It's is getting dark."

However, Luke was going to invest in a good blaster first.

*****

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