× CHAPTER TWO ×
The cloaked female humanoid pulled her threadbare hood
even closer about her face, which was already sufficiently hidden. Fear
radiated from her as light from a firefly; her protruding stomach was scarcely
concealed by her cloak. There was a small restaurant ahead; dare she enter
it? Hurr was well-known to the Jedi. With her luck, she would be bound
to run into some Jedi visiting him. No, not her luck, she corrected, with
her destiny.
Or whatever it was that the Masters called the Force-predestined
occurrences. They never had completed her training.
She caught a glimpse of a familiar face in the crowd, with a red-headed
Shi'ido in tow. She cowered against the dirt-stained wall, despite the fact
they couldn't tell who she was with her cloak.
Who was she fooling? He didn't know she was here because
he didn't suspect that she was tailing him. If he became suspicious in the
slightest, he would kill her!
Hopefully.
She looked down, gently stroking her bulging belly. They
hadn't meant for this to happen. She hadn't so much as heard from him since
their wedding night. She'd lost track of how long she'd been waiting; she
only knew that she was due soon.
When she'd discovered she was pregnant, she had used the
communicator he'd given her to send him an emergency signal. She'd hidden
her condition for as long as possible, then fled the Temple. She'd wandered
Coruscant's streets as a beggar for months now, waiting, weakening.
He never came.
So now she was going to help Racara. Her gaze, formally
gentle enough to be mistaken as naive by even the strongest of the Jedi Masters,
was now cagey as a rule. Glowering at Drevon, she clutched at the vibroblade
at her side as if it was her life preserver.
Then she felt it.
The familiar soothing presence, her solace, was nearby. Up ahead, she saw Jedi Knight Drevon whip around, startling the apprentice
at his side. He sensed it, too!
Her pansy eyes searched the crowd frantically. She had to find him first! "Yaaak!" she hollered, risking public exposure
and her own possible death rather than his certain one if Drevon found him. "Yaaak!" she yelled again. "He knows you're here!" Drevon
turned, and their eyes met. Darkness fell, and she knew no more.
Racara frowned, wondering what had come over her Master
as he whirled about and ran back in the direction they had just come. Then
she heard it.
"Yaaak!" the voice cried. "Yaaak! He
knows you're here!"
Racara's naturally gray pallor turned ashen. She knew
that voice—but no! It couldn't be! She sounded so weak, forlorn! What
possibly could have happened?
Her lime green eyes scanned the crowd, focusing on a gaunt,
gravid, white-haired Human woman just in time to see her slump to the ground. From the corner of her eye she noted that Yak was surveying the area, trying
to find a way to get to his truelove without Racara's Master seeing him. Racara had been with her Master a full year; but any loyalties she had to
him were outweighed by the ones she owed that woman, the only mother Racara
had ever known. Using her shapeshifting abilities to give her skin a natural
tone, she elbowed her way through the crowd, her Jedi cloak and Padawan braid
silencing any would-be inveighers.
"Master!" she called. "Master!" Upon reaching his side,
she grabbed his arm, yanking him away. "We should go!"
Drevon shook her off, demanding, "Let me be!"
Racara recoiled, aghast. "The Masters are waiting for
us!"
Drevon turned suddenly, his fierce gaze meeting hers. After several seconds, his mask returned, leading Racara to wonder whether
Mana had been right about him being a Dark Jedi. They headed to the Temple;
Drevon believing Racara had never seen the woman, unaware that she had already
told his Padawan of his true colors…
After the two Jedi had made their exit, a man approached
the crowd. Eying his weapons array, they fell back, opening before him. One little child, in the midst of the confusion, was left in the middle
of the passageway that appeared before this man. She stood absolutely still,
whimpering in fear. The mystery man leaned down, asked her something, then
looked around for the girl's mother, who she pointed out to him. He then
picked her up, taking care to see that she had a tight grip on her stuffed
bear, and carried her to her mommy, who was some distance away.
The nerve-wracked mother accepted her charge gratefully,
sniffling. She curtsied. "Thank you, sir."
The man shrugged. "No big deal."
"Oh, but it is!" the woman protested. "You are so kind—"
"Kind, am I?" the man snapped, not angrily, but
hurt. It was apparent that the mother had hit a raw nerve. Softly, the
man explained his reaction. "Forgive me, madam, but I've known for months
that my wife is pregnant, and just now have managed to get here. Had she
stayed at the—where she was, she would've been blacklisted when they found
out, for she married against their regulations, so kind is not precisely
how I feel right now."
The young mother, determined to think good of him, tried
to cheer him up. "But I'm sure you came as soon as you were able."
The man turned away, attending to a cloaked insensate
figure by the wall. Her bulging stomach looked far too big for her small,
gaunt frame. Her white hair cascaded on the ground around her. He shook
her gently. "Mana," he whispered tenderly, leaving no doubt on the young
mother's mind that this unfortunate individual was his wife.
Her violet eyes opened immediately. She attempted to
sit up and get to her feet, but in vain. The months of begging on the streets
had left her feeble. Using the Force, she had transferred whatever nutrition
she had been able to receive to her child. Thus, while the fetus inside
of her was of normal, healthy weight and proportions, she herself was wan
and frail. She managed a wobbly smile when she recognized her husband. "What took you so long?"
"Got stuck out by Kessel. Had to earn a new ship." As
he said this, his wife wrapped her arms around his neck and he picked her
up. "So, are we going to the Healers or—"
Mana was furiously shaking her head, trembling and gripping
him even tighter. "Not the Temple!" she faintly pleaded. "That life is
over!" She snuggled against his breast. "This is my life now," she murmured,
drifting off into the depths of childlike slumber.
Keeping a wary eye on those around them, Yak carried his
wife away from the scene. Nearly half an hour later, he boarded his ship,
still bearing Mana in his arms. The vessel looked as if it belonged to a
scrap heap on the outside, and the inside wasn't much better. Yak gingerly
placed his wife on the hard bunk, suppressing a grimace. That needed cushions.
He gave the ship a thorough survey, mentally noting everything that needed
ameliorating. Conduits required covers, doors needed repairing, seats lacked
safety nets. He might as well admit it—the entire ship could use revamping. Well, at least it didn't reek. He'd been in better-looking places that
had seemed much worse just because of the smell.
Yak opened his credit pouch, calculating how many of the
homier changes he could make with what he had, leaving enough for their necessities. Not many.
He sighed, putting his pouch back in its place. The young
mother had been right; he had come as soon as he could, but now Mana
would have to cope with the dinginess he lived with regularly. She wouldn't
leave him, he knew; but maybe it would be better for her if she did. She
didn't know how to deal with the types he habitually associated with.
There was a knock at his ship's entrance. Fingering his
blaster and tensed to go for any other weapons as might prove necessary,
he opened it. The young mother he'd helped before stood there, along with
a handsome young man. Yak didn't relax, but just stood there, his eyes jumping
from one to the other, although an astute observer would have noticed that
while the gaze he gave the man was one of mistrust, he looked at the woman
with a mild curiosity.
The woman stepped forward, holding the arm of the man
at her side. "Sir, this is my husband. He also would like to thank you
for taking care of our daughter earlier today."
Yak gave a terse nod. "You're welcome."
The young woman spoke again. "He's a doctor."
Startled, Yak's surprise showed in his eyes and the way he drew himself
up suddenly. A wavering half smile crossed his features as he shook his
head. "I can't afford—"
The young doctor interrupted, "No need. Vell, here told
me of your wife's condition, so I just brought a few things that might help." He gestured to the entrance. "May we come in?"
Yak nodded, and stepped aside. The young couple's little
girl smiled when she saw him, shyly keeping behind her mother's skirt. Yak
led them to the bedroom where Mana lay. From the shocked glance the young
doctor gave his wife, and the smile Vell gave in return, Yak could tell the
doctor had not believed the extremity of Vell's report.
"Well?" Yak asked anxiously, after the doctor had given
Mana a thorough examination. "Is she all right?"
The doctor gave a small shrug, placing about a dozen medications
on the tottering desk. He gave his patient a perplexed second look-over,
then shot Yak a suspicious glance. "One of you is a Jedi, aren't you?"
Yak met the doctor's gaze squarely. "No."
"No?" The doctor raised an eyebrow.
His gaze didn't waver. "No."
The young man scowled. "Strange…" He beckoned Yak to
join him at the desk where he'd placed the medicaments. "These," he began,
holding up eight different bottles, "are vitamins. Have her take them at
mealtimes; at least once a day, but no more than thrice in twenty-four hours." He motioned to the remainder. "The rest of these have the directions on
the containers. Have a good day, sir." The doctor and his family left.
Yak, suspicious, started the preflight sequences immediately. By the time Jedi security showed up, he had already taken off and was on
his way out of the hangar. He heard a muffled cry in the back as he pulled
hard to starboard to avoid an incoming vessel. Once they were safely in
hyperspace, he scurried to the back to help his wife.
"Yak?" He could hear her pathetically feeble voice. "Yak!" she whimpered softly. "Come back!"
"I'm right here, beloved." he gently soothed, taking her
in his arms, helping her back up on the bunk. "Sorry about that. The doctor who stopped by called Jedi security; I guess he could tell from
your condition."
Mana nodded. "Force-sensitive people are harder to kill
than normal ones."
Yak was surprised. "Really? I thought that was just
a Jedi thing."
Mana gave a weak laugh. "Force-sensitive people mostly
are Jedi, darling." She used the same endearment for him as she had
the children she had used to care for, but the way she said it was different. Yak couldn't quite place his finger on it, but somehow, somewhere, it was
different. It may have been the vocal inflection, the expression on her
face, or perhaps merely the adoration shining from her eyes as she looked
at him, but he never could quite tell.
He noticed that Mana had paled, and her breathing had
quickened. "Beloved?" he inquired softly, concerned.
"I'm fine," she faintly uttered between clenched teeth. "Muscle spasms. And yes," she added before he could ask, "I can tell."
His brow furrowed, Yak considered another problem with
caring for his family with his lifestyle: How would they nurture the child? Privately despairing, he admitted to himself that his asking Mana to marry
him had been one of the most selfish things he could have possibly done…
Three more chapters…