Anakin reacted on instinct, throwing up his hands and stretching out with the Force to form an invisible barrier around himself. His fingers held a crushing grip on his comlink and his lightsaber handle as he shoved away the stone and metal and glass and fire and heat that blasted toward him with the devastating power of the explosion that was tearing the building apart.
He couldn't think – he could only react.
And then, after a few seconds that seemed like an eternity inside the inferno, the fiery wave of the detonation passed – leaving him to contend with the falling debris raining down. But that was a much simpler task, and without losing his focus on self-preservation Anakin immediately surged his perceptions into the Force again.
A deluge of emotions and sensations assaulted him – fear, pain, death, shock, agony, panic, disbelief.
But not danger. Not anymore.
He expanded his awareness, trying his best to assess the situation even as the once proud stone building continued to break apart in front of him. The building itself had been the target, it seemed, and was blowing up and collapsing inward all at once. The front rows of the crowd had been ravaged by the blast, but further out the casualties appeared limited. All around him he found the unmistakable sensations of death.
Padmé was alive – he could feel her presence in his mind like he always did.
Instantly Anakin reached out for her with his perceptions, needing to know if he had to protect her. At first he couldn't tell, because all he sensed was her frightened confusion – everything had happened for Padmé without warning, and she still was trying to understand what was going on. Then he realized her guards had activated the energy shield in time after all, because he could sense several presences nearby as her small portion of the balcony fell away in a single solid piece.
As the walls and upper floors continued to crumble the segment of balcony smashed into the ground, tossing Padmé violently to the rubble. Through the Force Anakin felt the spikes of pain from the blow to her body – but he also knew she wasn't hurt badly. Not compared to so many others around them.
Dozens of citizens in the crowd were dead. The guards who hadn't been within the perimeter of the energy shield were dead. The two Special Forces soldiers who'd been posted at the door a few meters in front of him were dead. And everyone in the building was dead.
Jenny.
"No," Anakin shouted, not even aware he was speaking. The last of the stone and debris fell around him as he clipped his blade and comlink to his belt and started to charge forward. "No! No!"
Anakin had gone only a few strides before he stopped cold. Where the building had been a few seconds ago was a mass of stone and metal and wood ablaze with flames spewing thick black smoke into the bright blue sky.
The sight made his blood run cold.
No longer needing to shield himself from the explosion's aftermath, Anakin reached out into the Force once more to be sure the energy shield had kept Padmé safe from everything but the fall. It had. So Anakin had no choice.
He had to get to Jenny. He had to.
Anakin directed all his focus toward the piles of burning rubble and searched for Jenny. He probed and scanned as fast as he could, yet relentlessly, seeking any emanations of her familiar, bright presence in the Force.
He found nothing.
"No," Anakin demanded in a whisper. He lunged forward into the rubble, powering his arms with the Force to toss aside the massive stones as if they were pebbles. He dug frantically through the pile in the spot where there should have been the doorway she'd passed through not even a minute ago. He had to find her.
It couldn't be too late. It just couldn't.
But it was, and he couldn't keep up his blind denial any longer as soon as he flung away another block of stone and saw the lifeless, gray-clad body of his old friend. In a flash he burrowed her out, fell to his knees, and pulled her into his arms.
Anakin cradled Jenny's small form in his lap and wept. He wrapped the Force around her and sought in vain for any sign of life within. Hoping against hope he probed with all his strength.
A few long, horrible seconds later Anakin stopped. The life was gone from her body, and nothing he could do would bring it back. Death was one enemy he couldn't defeat, no matter how much he might wish otherwise.
Jenny was dead.
Anakin brushed the hair out of her face and laid her corpse reverently on the ground. For a moment he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, centering himself in the Force again and restoring a measure of peace to his troubled emotions. Then with great effort he rose to his feet and turned around.
Padmé stood half a dozen meters away, her face completely pale and her eyes hollow. Like his tan Jedi robes, her formal blue gown was stained with soot and charring, probably from some similarly hopeless attempt to save the life of one of her guards. Motionless, she gaped at the incomprehensible truth on the ground behind him.
Anakin didn't move either, and waited. Finally Padmé lifted her gaze to meet his. The pain in her brown eyes broke his heart, and without conscious thought he rushed frantically to her.
She crushed her arms around him and burst into tears on his shoulder.
Tears streamed down his cheeks too, and he held her against him as tightly as he dared. "I'm sorry," he finally said when their sobbing had slowed to intermittent gasps. "It's my fault. It's my fault."
Padmé looked intensely into his eyes and silenced him with a finger on his lips. "Not now," she said. "Not now."
Anakin nodded. He kissed her once on the forehead, then pulled away from her hold and turned around. After a lingering glance at the rubble of the destroyed building and the thick plumes of black smoke rising into the air, he strode over and bent down to collect Jenny's body into his arms.
When he reached her side Padmé rested her hand gingerly on Jenny's ashen face. She held it there for a long while, until she finally looked up into his eyes again. "Do the children know?"
"I think so."
Padmé nodded. She glanced back at the surviving members of her security detail, who were waiting a respectful distance away with blaster rifles ready. "We'll return to Coruscant immediately," she told them. "Inform my office that Chief of Staff Antilles is dead."
"Of course, Your Excellency," the officer said. "The transport is already prepared for takeoff."
"Lead the way, Major," Padmé said, her voice unnaturally composed considering the waves of anguish radiating out from her in the Force.
Anakin followed after her, carrying their dead friend with him.
---
With Luke at her side Danaé walked back across the grounds of the outpost toward what appeared to be a strategy meeting between Bryon, Sarré, and Winter. In the Force she could sense that her little brother was struggling to keep his anxiety for Leia in check, but outwardly he was as composed as ever.
"The perimeter squads are waiting on our orders," Bryon was saying to the intelligence agent when they arrived. "Is our squad ready to move out?"
"We are," Winter replied.
"Good. Then let's stick with what we talked about," Bryon said. "I'm going after my sister. If we're not back in two hours, take the squad and go."
Winter ran her fingers through her white hair, and frowned. "Are you sure about this?"
"I am. If I didn't trust you to lead this mission, I'd never have brought you along. You don't need me."
"We're much better off with you, though."
"Perhaps." Bryon crossed his arms over his chest. "Do I have to make this an order?"
"No, sir, General Skywalker," Winter said. "Two hours."
"Two hours."
"I won't let you down." Winter saluted, and headed off toward Solo, Calrissian, and Chewbacca on the other side of the small enemy compound.
Danaé barely suppressed her chuckle when Bryon turned to face them. She knew Skywalker bravado when she saw it. "So what's your brilliantly conceived plan for finding Leia in two hours?"
Bryon flashed her their father's smirk. "There isn't one."
Danaé shook her head. "Somehow I didn't think so."
"But I need Winter and the squad to believe there is," he said. "Even if they have to leave without us morale will be better if they're expecting us back any second."
Sarré frowned. "And what if we never show up?"
"We will," Bryon said, and this time it wasn't bravado. "Somehow we will."
"Between the two of us," Luke said with a tip of his head toward Danaé, "we might be able to narrow down her location."
Danaé nodded. "There's lots of energy in the living Force in the forest, but we know Leia's Force signature so well we ought to be able to find her."
"Give it a try for a minute now," Bryon said. "I want to see what Artoo's scanners can find."
"Good idea," she said. While Bryon and Sarré went to get the droids, Danaé and Luke bowed their heads and closed their eyes. Together they extended their perceptions in the Force, with Luke focusing on the unique energy pattern of his twin and Danaé concentrating on pushing into the background all the other emanations in the living Force generated by the forest all around them.
It
was slow going at first, but they already were making progress when Bryon and Sarré rejoined them.
Danaé opened her eyes and looked over. "We can do it," she said. "I know we can."
"Yes," Luke said with a firm nod. "Maybe not in two hours, but we can do it."
"Artoo will be able to help some too," Bryon told them. "He's running a woodlands scanning package that cuts through a lot of the flora."
"So," Sarré said, "we should get started right away, then."
"I'm ready when you are," Luke said. "No time to –"
His voice cut off at the same time the sharp, nauseating sensation speared Danaé through the Force.
Fear.
Horrible, horrible fear.
Danaé's eyes met Luke's. "Daddy," she gasped.
He could only nod. Danaé's legs wavered beneath her.
"What's going on?" Bryon demanded, reaching out to grip her shoulder to steady to her. "What's happening?"
Then, just as suddenly, came another burst of feeling.
Heart-rending, desperate anguish.
Loss.
Danaé's heart skipped a beat, and she almost couldn't find her voice. "Is… is… Mom?"
"No," Luke whispered, his voice low and hoarse. "No. I feel her too."
"What's going on?" asked Bryon again, increasingly panicked. "Tell me what's going on!"
Danaé glanced over to see Sarré clutching him around the waist, holding him in place. Danaé raised her hand to let him know she just needed a bit longer. She closed her eyes and concentrated on her memories of the two pulses she'd felt moments ago.
Her father's pain was more distinct, but Luke was right – their mother's pain was there too.
Danaé opened her eyes again and looked at Bryon and Sarré. Her brother's eyes were full of terror, and his wife's face had gone pale. "Something with Mom and Daddy," she told them. "Something bad."
Bryon's hand on her shoulder was quaking. "But you can't tell what it was?"
"It wasn't… a message, exactly," Danaé explained, struggling for words. "It was just… their pain."
Sarré whimpered. "It was so bad you felt it from them even though he wasn't reaching out to you on purpose?"
Danaé swallowed hard. "Something like that. I can try to –"
"Jenny," said Luke's voice suddenly.
"What?" said all three of them in unison as they looked at him at once.
"Jenny," he repeated, a single tear tracing down his cheek. "She's dead."
Everyone was silent for a long moment, until Bryon reacted first. "No! No!"
Luke could only shake his head.
"Oh, no," Sarré sobbed, still holding tightly to her husband. "No."
Danaé took a slow, deep breath and trusted her feelings. "He's right."
They all just stood there. No one knew what to do, and Danaé couldn't think of anything else to say. Artoo whistled mournfully, and for once Threepio remained silent.
Abruptly Bryon wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and stood tall. "This is it," he growled. "I've had enough of this blasted war. Enough of it. No one else we love dies. No one! This is it!"
"Bryon, please," Sarré said, her voice shaking. "Calm down."
"No," he barked, twisting out of her embrace and stomping a few strides away. "No. We're going to go get Leia, and then we're going to end this fraggin' war right now!"
"Bryon…"
"No," he shouted again, his fists clenched and his face flushed red. "I'm going to kill every last one of those –"
"No, you're not, Bryon," his wife cut him off. Sarré's voice was as harsh as Danaé had ever heard it, and the short blonde's hand very deliberately came to rest on her holstered blaster pistol. With a loud click Sarré set the weapon to stun. "We're not going anywhere until you calm down."
The sudden change in Bryon nearly broke Danaé's heart. His fists unclenched and his face drained of color. His shoulders slumped and tears began to run freely down his cheeks. He swayed in the air, then leaned on Sarré for support when she rushed into his arms.
"I'm sorry," he gasped through his tears. "You're right."
Danaé and Luke each put a hand on their brother's shoulder, and for a minute the four of them grieved.
Bryon blew out a deep sigh. "There's time to mourn later," he said simply. "We need to get Leia back."
Danaé nodded, and Luke and Sarré did too.
"All right," Bryon said, his confidence slowly returning to his bearing. "Artoo, get your scanners going. Threepio, you see if you can learn anything from the birdcalls and animal noises in the forest."
"We'll start looking for Leia again," Luke said when Bryon looked toward Danaé and him.
Bryon nodded, then turned away from them. "Hey, Solo," he called out across the outpost. "Get over here."
Han, Lando, and Chewie jogged over to join them.
Bryon didn't even wait for them to speak. "You helped lose her," he said to Han. "You help find her."
---
Luke stood still and extended his awareness in the Force. They were closing in on Leia's location – he could tell that clearly. With Danaé's perceptions in the living Force augmenting his focus on his twin's distinctive presence, they already had made great progress in finding her. He couldn't yet pinpoint exactly where she was, but they were almost there.
He turned around to face the others. "Let's keep heading in this direction. We're getting close."
Artoo whistled and trilled. "Artoo reports that the indigenous predators continue to keep their distance," Threepio explained. "They seem to be afraid of us."
"Good," Bryon said. "Lead the way, Luke. With any luck we'll be able to catch up to the squad well before they reach the generator."
Han nodded. "The sooner we get this over with the better."
Covering ground as quickly as they could without compromising their ability to monitor Leia's location, the nine of them moved swiftly through the forest again. Luke couldn't help but pick up his pace as they drew nearer and nearer to his twin.
"Wait," Danaé said abruptly, raising her hands in a signal to come to a halt. "I sense something."
Sarré raised her blaster. "What? Where?"
"I'm not sure," Danaé replied. "Something's not right."
Han and Lando had their blasters tracking the forest around them. "See anything?" Solo asked.
"No," Calrissian replied. "Nothing."
Artoo beeped and blooped. "There do not appear to be any predators in our immediate vicinity," Threepio translated.
Bryon lowered his blaster rifle. "Luke? Do you sense anything?"
"Not clearly," he replied distractedly, intent on trying to identify the source of Danaé's unease. "But something's not right here."
Chewie wroofed a suggestion. "Sure," Bryon said. "Check if you can see anything."
The Wookiee took only two long strides toward the nearest massive tree trunk before it happened.
There was a whoosh and a jolt and suddenly all of them were hanging several meters off the ground, captives in a large net made of heavy rope.
They were crammed together quite uncomfortably, and Luke's hands were trapped behind him. One of Threepio's metal legs was wedged painfully against his side, and his face was pressed against Danaé's lower back. And none of them could move.
Han groaned. "I suppose this was it, huh?"
"Of course it was, genius," Lando barked. He paused. "Right?"
"Right," Danaé said. "Now, how do we get out?"
Luke considered the situation. "Sarré, can you reach my lightsaber?"
He felt some wiggling behind him, and heard her grunting in annoyance. "No," she finally said. "I can't."
Artoo trilled. "Master Bryon?"
Luke barely stifled his laugh at Threepio, who sounded even more dismayed than usual.
"Yes, Threepio?" Bryon's voice was muffled.
"Artoo is facing outward. He proposes that he sever the rope with his utility cutter."
"Go ahead, Artoo," Bryon said immediately. "Do it."
"I must protest, Master Bryon," exclaimed Threepio. "It's a very long dro–"
With a snap one of the ropes gave way, destroying the integrity of the net and sending them all falling to the forest floor in tangled mass of limbs and blasters. They landed with a thump – followed by annoyed moans of pain.
Luke sprang to his feet and assessed the group. "Is everyone all right?"
The others confirmed they were fine as they stood up too, all the while griping about the fall and rubbing sore spots on their bodies. Luke could sense in the Force that no one had been seriously injured, so there was nothing to be gained by pressing the issue.
Just as the others reached down for their blasters on the ground a sharp male voice barked out an order.
"Freeze! All of you! Right now!"
Without hesitation Luke raised his hands in the air in surrender, and he sighed with relief when Bryon and Han and the rest did the same.
From behind trees and underbrush nearly two dozen soldiers stepped out to encircle them. Much like Luke and his friends the new arrivals wore camouflage fatigues suited for forest combat. Their captors' blasters were leveled in deadly aim. Then the one closest to Luke holstered his weapon and strode forward.
The dark-skinned man with lieutenant's bars on his shoulders crossed his arms over his chest. "Who are you?"
Bryon glared back. "Who are you?"
The lieutenant whistled in amusement. "Anyone here smarter than the giant?"
Luke glanced quickly at the others, and saw that no one looked inclined to answer. Probing the man in the Force revealed nothing about his intentions that Luke couldn't have guessed anyway.
The lieutenant said something over his shoulder to several of his soldiers in a language Luke didn't understand. A short, dark-skinned man responded first, followed by a tall male Selonian and a tall woman. The four of them continued their discussion after that. From the patterns of their speech Luke at least managed to pick out the lieutenant's name – Rostu.
"Well, Goldenrod," Han demanded, "what're they saying?"
"It seems," Threepio replied after a moment, "that they are debating whether to kill us."
"Figures," Han said.
Bryon chuckled. "What? You expected them to throw a banquet for us?"
Han smirked. "Hey, you never know."
Luke shook his head in bemusement. "What are they saying now, Threepio?"
"There is a division of opinion," the protocol droid said. "Two of them want to kill us right now. The other two wish to take us prisoner and let their commander – the Colonel, they call him – decide our fates."
"Quiet! All of you," Rostu snapped. "Not another word."
Luke frowned. They needed a plan, and quickly.
Very softly Danaé cleared her throat. Luke glanced over to see her narrow her eyes at him, and in the Force he felt her drawing more and more of its power into her body. Her bright blue eyes flicked once toward Rostu, then back to Luke again. He knew that signal well enough, and nodded.
The discussion among Rostu and the three soldiers kept going while Luke waited. Only a few seconds later, though, Danaé acted.
She jumped straight up high into the air and flicked out her right arm – and in a flash had spun in a full circle. Even before her feet hit the ground again the invisible wave of power in the Force had cleared their friends' heads and blasted into the soldiers surrounding them, knocking the weapons from their hands and shoving them into the wide tree trunks or flattening them to the ground. Not one of the soldiers got off a shot.
Only Rostu remained standing, and with a flick of his wrist Luke snatched the man's blaster from its holster and summoned it to him. The pistol's handle smacked into his hand at the same moment Danaé's boots thumped back to the ground.
"Impressive," Luke said. "I like that one."
Danaé grinned. "I have my moments."
The others didn't need orders, and within a second there were five blasters aimed at the dazed group of prone erstwhile captors around them.
"Don't shoot," Danaé said. "Let them be."
"I know, I know," Han grumbled. "Like I'm gonna vape a defenseless guy."
Lando winked at him. "With you, we can never be sure."
Han glowered back, and kept his blaster pistol trained on the slowly recovering soldiers. "Hands up, folks," he ordered the odd collection of men and women, with a few aliens throw in. "Nobody needs to get shot."
Luke's attention returned to Rostu when he realized the man was laughing.
Bryon looked over too. "What's so funny?"
"I'm sorry," the dark-skinned man said, holding up his hands in surrender. "It's just so hard to believe."
Luke furrowed his brow. "What is?"
Rostu looked at him curiously. "Isn't it obvious? That you're finally here, of course."
Bryon scowled. "And who is it, exactly, that you think we are?"
"You're from the Republic," the man replied with conviction. "Right?"
"Yes," Luke said, following the guidance of the Force. "We are."
Bryon still was frowning. "How did you know?"
"It's quite simple, actually," Rostu explained. "Argis' thugs wouldn't even have hesitated to gun us down as soon as they had the advantage."
Bryon nodded. "I can't argue with that."
Rostu tipped his head, then gave a knowing glance to Danaé and Luke. "Plus, Argis doesn't have any Jedi Knights working for him. And I don't know anyone who could do what you just did without the Force."
"Also true," Bryon said. "All right. So we're from the Republic. Who are you?"
Before Rostu could answer his comlink beeped. He looked at Bryon. "May I?"
"Go ahead." Bryon lowered his blaster, and motioned to the others to allow the rest of the soldiers to gather up their weapons again.
The voice on the comlink said a few quick words, and Rostu responded in kind. After he stashed the comlink on his belt again he looked up at them. "We're rebels," he said. "We've been hiding out here in the forest for over five years, harassing the brownshirts and destroying as many military assets as we can."
"We'd heard reports of insurgency activity," Bryon said. "We didn't expect to find you here, though."
"It's only in the last few weeks we've gotten this close to –" Rostu stopped abruptly, and his eyes widened. "You're invading, aren't you? The Republic is invading!"
Bryon chuckled. "Not if we don't get that shield generator destroyed soon."
"Don't worry about that," Rostu said. "We have speeder bikes at our base camp. We'll get you there even before the rest of your units."
Bryon gave Rostu a startled look. "You know about…"
"Of course." The man grinned. "We know everything that's happening in the forest. And I'm sure the Colonel will be sending some of us to join you. We'll do anything we can to help topple Argis from the throne."
Sarré took a long stride forward. "We can't leave until we find our friend."
"Oh, that won't be a problem," Rostu said. "We found her a long time ago. She'll meet you at our base camp."
Luke blinked. Sometimes it really was disconcerting how quickly fortune could change. For once, though, things finally were going in the Skywalkers' favor.
"Great," Han said into the stunned silence. "That's everything, then. Let's get moving."
"Right," Bryon said. "We have a building to blow up."
---
In a small, private passenger chamber on the military transport Padmé sat curled in Anakin's lap, her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders and her face buried in his neck. The front of his robes was damp from their tears, mingled together amid the stains of the blast on Corulag. His hands ran gently up and down her back as he tried to soothe her grief as best he could.
Padmé couldn't believe Jenny was gone. Even aside from all the years they had worked together, Jenny was one of Padmé's dearest friends in the galaxy. Life wouldn't ever be the same again – and Padmé couldn't even comprehend how she would go on without her. She would find a way, of course, because she had to. And because Jenny would expect her to. But the very thought was so painful it brought another round of tears.
"I'm sorry, angel," Anakin said yet again, almost as if it was now the only thing he was capable of saying.
"I'm sorry too," she whispered, squeezing him a little harder.
Anakin kissed her forehead. "It's my fault," he said in a hushed voice filled with heartache. "It's my fault she's dead. I should have been able to save her."
"That's not true, Ani, and you know it," she said, lifting her face to look into his bloodshot blue eyes. "You can't hold yourself to that standard. I won't let you."
"You don't understand. I sensed the danger. I sensed it! And I told her to come with me anyway."
"Do you think she'd have listened to you if you'd ordered her to stay behind?"
"That's not the point," he persisted. "I brought her along. I brought her into that."
Padmé ran her fingers through his short gray hair. "Did you know it was a bomb, Anakin? Did you sense that?"
"No," he admitted quietly, breaking their gaze to stare at the white wall of the room.
"The Sith were behind this, Anakin. It wasn't political. It wasn't about me adjourning the Senate. The Sith tried to kill me, and their powers of the dark side were clouding your ability to perceive the threat. Am I wrong?"
"No."
"Then how could you have known?"
"I couldn't have." He still was staring sightlessly at the wall. "It just wasn't clear enough. I'm sorry."
"You can't blame yourself."
He shook his head. "I should have sensed it. I should have known. Somehow I should have known."
"How?"
"I don't know."
Despite herself she sighed in frustration at his stubbornness. "You did what you thought was best, Anakin. You're not responsible for this."
Finally he looked back at her again, and nodded. "I know. You're right. I'm sorry."
"Enough apologies," she said, holding his face in her hands. "We'll make it through this. Somehow we'll make it through this."
"We will," Anakin said, smiling just a little. "As long as I have you, I can make it through anything."
Padmé smiled back as best she could. "And as long as I have you, I can make it through anything too."
---
Danaé found Luke sitting on a crate at the edge of the insurgent's base camp in the forest. Her brother was hunched over with his head in his hands, and he was gazing aimlessly at the dirt beneath his boots. She sat down cross-legged on the ground opposite him.
"Leia's meeting with the Colonel now," she said quietly, reaching out to take one of his hands. "It sounds like they're going to send some troops to help us attack the generator."
Luke nodded, but didn't say anything.
"She's all right, you know. She's fine."
"I know."
Danaé squeezed his hand. "Were you able to tell her about Jenny?"
"Yes."
"Good."
He kept staring at the dirt.
Danaé frowned. "What's wrong, Luke?"
"I sensed something a few minutes ago. In the Force."
"I didn't sense anything," she replied after a moment. "A disturbance, you mean?"
Luke met her gaze. "No."
"What, then?"
"Mara," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "She's here."
"Here? On Vyhrrag? Where?"
"I don't know," Luke said quietly. "It was just for an instant… and then… she blocked me."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
He nodded.
Danaé squeezed his hand again. "What are you going to do?"
"There's nothing I can do." He sighed forlornly. "I don't know where she is. I don't know why she's here. I can't do anything."
She looked closely into his sad blue eyes. "It's more than that, isn't it? Tell me."
Luke looked away, unable to hold the gaze. "I felt… the darkness. She's giving in to the darkness."
Danaé pulled him into an embrace. "She won't, Luke. You have to believe that. You have to."
"I can save her," he said into her shoulder. "It's not too late. I know it's not."
"Then trust in the Force," she said. "It will show you the way. It always does."
---
Admiral Mirkalla stood with his hands clasped at the small of his back and looked out the wide viewport on the bridge of his flagship, the Republic Navy destroyer Invictus. In front of him was the amazing panorama of stars that was realspace. Arrayed around his vessel were a dozen other warships – one strike force of six that soon would unite at Vyhrrag to carry out Victory Strike.
"Status report, Lieutenant," Mirkalla said over his shoulder.
"Yes, sir," replied the young woman below him in the crew pit. "We've received word from the Orn Free Taa, the Gannis Trellem, the Bail Millius, and the Corellia's Pride, sir."
"Notify Admiral Ackbar that we're ready for him," Mirkalla said. "When his strike force arrives at their mark, we jump to hyperspace on his signal. Don't wait for confirmation from me."
"Understood, sir."
Mirkalla pondered the constellations for a moment until he heard the approaching footsteps behind him. He turned around and saluted the officers he had summoned to the bridge a few minutes earlier. "We're one jump away," he told them. "Next stop, Vyhrrag."
"Rogue Squadron is ready," Captain Wedge Antilles said, smiling.
"Renegade Squadron is ready as well," Captain Soontir Fel said, as grim as ever.
Mirkalla nodded. "Order the pilots to their ships. We deploy the fighters immediately upon arrival."
The two Navy officers saluted, and jogged briskly toward the turbolifts to the lower decks.
Major Will Graff glanced back at Mirkalla from looking out the viewport. "We're ready too. Should we order the troops to the landers?"
"Not yet," Mirkalla said. "Let's make sure the jump goes smoothly first."
"Don't worry about our soldiers, Admiral," said Major Cerule Starblaze with a grin. "Sitting tight a few extra minutes won't bother them any."
Mirkalla met eyes with Graff and sighed. "What did we do to deserve this, do you suppose?"
Graff shook his head and chuckled. "Outnumbered by Corellians three to two? It must have been something pretty serious, that's for sure."
Starblaze laughed. "It could be worse."
Mirkalla feigned disbelief. "How?"
Starblaze winked. "Skywalker could be here too."
Graff burst out laughing. "She's got you there."
Mirkalla laughed along with them. "Yes. Yes, she does."
---
Mara made her way cautiously across the lush grounds of Argis' royal palace. The orange and red hues of dusk lit the far horizon in a fiery display, and her black flight suit easily kept her hidden in the long, deep shadows cast on the grass and shrubbery by the towering trees. Covering distance quickly, shrouded in darkness except for quick bursts through the light, she approached the marble edifice of the south wing.
She stopped and leaned against a tree, and looked up at the palace. The structure was six stories tall, and the destination revealed in her vision was on the fifth. Even from here she could see the wide windows of the room and the glow of the bright lights illuminating the space within.
Mara tugged her comlink from her utility belt and flicked it on. "Any update, Jaytoo?"
The astromech warbled and toodled. "Good," she said. "Just what I wanted to hear."
The droid whistled a query. "Let's stick with this plan for now," she replied. "Only contact me if they sound the alarms or raise the alert level."
The droid blooped affirmatively, and Mara flicked off the comlink. Deep in the dense forest several kilometers beyond the capital city the Lady Vader sat in a small clearing concealed beneath the canopy of leaves. The incomparable signal-jammers on her former Master's customized starship had prevented any detection of her arrival in the system or her descent through the atmosphere. The speeder bike didn't have jammers like that, though, so rather than risk it catching the enemy's scanners Mara had spent the afternoon walking here.
Now, finally, it was time to act.
Mara reached the base of the palace wall without incident. She pressed her back to the cool stone and considered her surroundings one more time. She hadn't seen any security cams or foot patrols. She obviously hadn't tripped any motion sensors or intruder detectors. And on this wall of the palace, opposite the setting sun and immersed in gloom, her black form climbing the light stone wouldn't be noticeable except to the most discerning eye.
Mara ran her hands over the surface of the wall, feeling for the gaps between the marble blocks and the shapes of the outcroppings on the rough-hewn stones. It didn't take her long to reach her decision. She tugged off her black gloves and tucked them into her belt, then bent down and removed her boots.
Interlinking her fingers and extending her arms out in front of her to stretch, Mara took a deep breath, turned around, and began to climb. Her fingers found purchase as she pulled herself upward, and her bare feet braced on the same narrow spaces in turn. She used the Force to keep herself calm – steady breathing, patient movements, and relaxed muscles. Heedless of the sheer plunge beneath her, she swiftly ascended the side of the palace.
With her concentration so intensely focused on her physical efforts, it didn't seem like long at all before Mara had reached the large fifth-story balcony of her vision from the Force. The sweeping stone patio was nearly fifteen meters long and five meters wide, and the polished stones glimmered in the light from the windows centered midway along the wall. From here she could see that they weren't windows after all, but rather three adjoining sets of tall glass doors.
Mara hauled herself up onto the far end of the balcony, and stayed flush against the wall and well out of sight of those inside. Even in the dim illumination from the moon and the room's lights she could see there were no guards posted on the balcony. For a moment she considered reaching out into the Force to assess the situation, but decided against it on the chance it would reveal her presence – it was possible, after all, that a Sith might be in the room.
Her bare feet carried her silently to the doors; the middle pair was thrown open inward to allow the cool night breeze to waft inside. Mara pressed her back to the wall beside the closed doors closest to her and listened.
"… cannot withstand a direct attack," a confident male voice was saying. "There is no reason to wait."
"I agree," another male voice said. "A second attack on Alderaan will incite panic throughout the Core."
"Perhaps," a female voice mused. "But Alderaan is pacifist, and many consider her weak because of it. Instead we should attack a world that believes itself strong. Even if our losses are more substantial, the greater effect on the enemy's morale will be more than worth the cost."
"General Sargun is right," said a quiet, cool voice of reason. "A wise strategist must consider all the alternatives, even ones that might at first seem inferior."
As the grim tactician continued his lecture Mara very carefully leaned to the side and took a quick glance through the glass pane in the door, then almost instantly snapped back to the darkness of the balcony.
Inside was a long conference table. Standing at its head, facing her but not looking at the windows, was a thin, elderly man in a gray general's uniform. Along the two sides of the table sat about two dozen similarly attired officers, listening with rapt attention to their leader.
Mara had no doubt these men and women were the commanders of Argis' military operations, and she was convinced that the leader was the General Tarkin from the Republic's intelligence reports. As the meeting continued inside it became increasingly clear to her that a major Vyhrragian military attack on the Core was imminent. That no longer seemed up for debate.
The generals were only deciding on the target.
Mara knew that it already was too late to warn the Republic. Even if she had Jaytoo send a message to Coruscant immediately, the Vyhrragians would be sending their orders at the same time. Presumably their field commanders were ready to strike at a moment's notice – but the Republic would have to scramble forces to defend whatever planet Mara told them about. With the enemy prepared and the Republic not, that defense would come too late.
She was certain of it.
So Mara had no choice. There was only one possible way to stop the Vyhrragian attack.
The generals would never make the decision.
Mara reached down to her utility belt and retrieved the single thermal detonator she'd brought along from the Lady Vader's arsenal. Cupping the small sphere in her palm, she ran her fingers over the smooth metal surface of the deadly weapon. Then she took a deep breath. There would be no climbing down, not with the devastation the explosion would cause to the palace. She would be pelted by falling debris or crushed by a collapsing wall long before she ever made it to the grass below.
She'd really gotten herself in a bind this time.
Mara leaned her head back against the cool stone of the wall and closed her eyes. After a series of slow, deep breaths she opened them again and smirked. She hadn't been Anakin Skywalker's apprentice for over a decade without learning a thing or two about getting out of ridiculous situations.
Mara walked quickly out from the wall until she reached the stone balustrade of the balcony. She crouched down and looked back toward the open balcony doors of the conference room. She steeled her concentration, thumbed the timer on the thermal detonator, and gave it a single click.
Ten.
She released the sphere into a slow, ten-second roll across the polished stones of the balcony, straight toward the unsuspecting meeting inside the open doors. Then Mara spun around and bounded atop the stone balustrade – and leaped off into the night.
Nine… Eight…
The wind rustled her flight suit, froze her skin, and whipped her loose hair as she plummeted through the chilly air with her arms and legs spread wide to create as much drag as possible.
Seven… Six…
Mara extended her perceptions in the Force to enhance her limited eyesight – and snatched hold of a thick branch of one of the trees. The rough bark tore and burned at her bare palms as she swung herself around to dissipate her momentum. She released the branch and tucked her body into a spin to consume the rest of the kinetic energy of her plunge. Using the Force to cushion her fall, she thumped ungraciously to the grass.
Four…
Shunting aside the agonizing shock of her collision with the ground, Mara sprang to her feet and reached out with the Force. From a dozen meters away her boots launched into the air and plopped into her hands. She ignored stings of pain from her wounded palms and ran as fast as she could.
One…
Mara ducked behind a tree, then turned back to look. High above a brilliant explosion of red and yellow and orange flame erupted from the lighted windows of the meeting room balcony. Chunks of stone blasted out in all directions from the detonation, which engulfed a huge swath of the fifth, sixth, and fourth floors around the vaporized room. The concussive roar of the blast shook her ribs in her chest and swayed the tree she leaned on.
And in the Force she felt the enemy generals die.
All of them.
Mara ducked into a crouch behind the tree and pressed out with the Force to form a protective barrier around her body. But only a few small pieces of debris came in her direct vicinity, and those bounced away harmlessly off the tree. Quickly Mara tugged on her boots and ran farther off into the grounds of the palace. She didn't stop until the raging fires in the south wing were a flickering ball of light in the distance.
Mara slumped to the ground and braced her back against a tree trunk, and a moment later her comlink beeped. She snatched it from her belt. "I'm here."
Jaytoo blooped and honked a speedy message. "Yeah, I know," Mara chuckled. "That was me."
The droid whistled approvingly, then trilled a warning. "Thanks," she replied. "I will."
Cooled by the brisk nighttime breeze, Mara finally allowed herself to relax. She found a few bacta swabs in her utility belt and wiped clean the small cuts and abrasions on her palms. Then she closed her eyes and opened her mind to the Force, using its energy to soothe her tired muscles and calm her thoughts. She didn't have time for meditation, but the sensations of the Force were refreshing all the same.
And then, suddenly, an unmistakable presence reached out for hers.
Luke.
Without hesitation Mara slammed down the barriers around her mind and pulled her awareness back to herself. Instinctively she sprang to her feet and snapped her lightsaber handle into her palm.
It took her only a second to realize how foolish that reaction was. Mara clipped her weapon to her belt again and crossed her arms over her chest.
Mara scowled. So Luke was here. On Vyhrrag. She knew it with absolute certainty. He couldn't have come here looking for her – Jaytoo had confirmed that the Lady Vader's tracking signals all were disabled, so there was no way he could have known where she was. That left only one possibility – he'd been sent on an unrelated mission to Vyhrrag.
Good for him.
Mara had her own business to attend to – her vision had shown her two targets, and only one of them had been eliminated. It was time to deal with the other. Mara began to stride confidently toward the palace again. The hunt was on, and the palace was as good a place as any to start.
Tonight would be Argis' last.