A/N: First off, I would like to apologize for an absence so long it could easily have been construed as my death. What can I say? I'm lazy, and . . . I kindof got seduced by another fanfiction (ahem*cough*). But I'm back, and if any of you devoted people out there are actually reading this, I LOVE YOU! I'd also really love knowing that you exist, so pleeeeeeaaaase, if there's anyone out there secretly reading this, would you mind leaving a review? I admit to sniveling and cringing if I see a flame (even on someone ELSE's story), but even that would let me know I'm making an impression (besides, it's rather cold in my house right now). Well, enough of the gabbing, and enjoy the fic. It's actually beginning to develop a plot (God forbid), so read on . . .





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The door swung open . . . and Krista's jaw dropped.



"Whoooooaaaa," she breathed, drinking in the insane atmosphere. "Shibby!"



Danielle burst into laughter as Obi-Wan started, shooting Krista a strange look. "'Shibby'?" he repeated carefully. "And what precisely does that mean?"



"I don't think it translates," Danielle said drily at the same moment Krista supplied, "It's the name of my pet fish. Shibby Dave."



There was silence.



"Something tells me this is one of those things I don't want to know," Obi-Wan said at last.



"You're learning," Danielle said encouragingly. "Now as soon as you stop asking you'll have achieved male perfection."



Krista snorted with surprised laughter. "Good God, Danielle. You're teaching him how to behave? You've heard Laura's oratory too many times, I think." Suddenly her eyes widened in understanding. "You . . . you've been doing it for Laura, haven't you?" she asked, voice slightly hysterical.



"I figured that, just in case she shows up, he might as well be prepared," Danielle said defensively, and her small friend burst into laughter.



Sweetums, apparently unhappy at being left out of all this fun, butted Danielle, knocking her into Krista and through the door frame. "Whoa!" Krista said, staggering for balance as Danielle regained hers with the ease of long practice. "Nice . . . excuse me, big kitty." Suddenly a demonic gleam appeared in her eyes as she appraised the Nexxu who was far larger than herself. "Kitty kitty kitty," she said sweetly. "That's a nice kitty."



"Uh . . . Krista?" Danielle said uneasily. "I'm not so sure that's the smartest idea you've had in a while. I know you have this penchant for torturing cats and all, but Sweetums isn't . . . I'm not sure it's wise to . . ." She trailed off helplessly.



Sweetums regarded Krista coldly for a moment as the young woman walked slowly toward him, hands extended. Then, unmistakably, he started to growl. The sound made all the knick-knacks in the room vibrate alarmingly and the floor shook a little under their feet.



"Yeah . . . okay," Krista said, backing away hastily with both hands extended before her. "That's right. I'll just . . . leave the nice big kitty alone."



"I give her a week before he eats her," Obi-Wan said callously, earning himself a glare from Krista.



"Well," Danielle sighed, shutting the door behind them, "it's not much, but it's home."



"Not much?" Krista echoed. Her eyes took in the various plants, the dazzling array of artwork, the sparkling music crystals in every corner. "What are you talking about? This is so spiffy!" She gave an abbreviated maniacal laugh. "Lemme guess. You did the decorating."



"However could you tell?" Obi-Wan called.



Danielle stuck her tongue out at him, then removed her gun like it was something toxic, turned off its power supply, and set it on a dresser with great relief. "Well. Now that you're staying with us, I guess you can share the bed with me. There's plenty of space--any things you have can go in my room, too. With a little rearranging, I'm sure we'll be able to--"



"Wait," Obi-Wan said suspiciously, coming back into the living room. "She's only here for a couple of weeks, right? Why are we discussing this like it's a permanent situation?"



Two sets of cool eyes stared back at him.



"Oh . . . right. Of course. This apartment just didn't have enough warm bodies in it with three people, a floating fish, and a giant predatory feline; always room for more." Shaking his ginger head disparagingly, he returned to the kitchen to make himself a consolation cup of hot chocolate, a new addiction to which Danielle had introduced him.



"Snarky, isn't he?" Krista asked, watching him go with her hands on her hips and chocolatey eyes narrowed shrewdly.



"He's had a rough day. A mug of hot chocolate and he'll be back to his old self, you'll see. He's also probably anticipating Qui-Gon's reaction to you--which, really, should be pretty fun." Danielle grinned, imagining the scenario herself.



The gleam reappeared in Krista's eye. "And just when exactly should our favorite Master be getting home?"



Danielle shrugged, stretching. "Dunno. The Council sent him off on some little errand, but he said he'd be back sometime today. In the meantime, we'll just get dinner started and wait for him to show up. That's our usual routine, you know, whenever somebody's on a mission."



"Sounds like a plan," Krista said, following Danielle out of the room and into the kitchen, where Obi-Wan did his best to ignore them. "So . . .what have we got for music in this joint?"



"Take a guess," Danielle sighed sadly.



Krista's entire demeanor darkened. "Let me think. Nothin' here, too?"



"Just this side of diddly."



"Well, great. And here I thought it was only the lovely Naboo ladies who had no taste in music. Danielle, please tell me: how am I supposed to survive prolonged amounts of time without Rush or Styx?"



"The same way I survive without Queen," Danielle said sternly, starting to remove an ominous selection of pots from various cabinets.



"But it's not as bad for you," Krista whined, flopping into a chair as Obi-Wan eyed her warily. "John Williams music just kindof hangs in the air and floats everywhere."



Danielle rolled her eyes as she started expertly bringing the massive oven-like-contraption to life. "Either help or go take a shower."



Krista sniffed herself rather un-subtly and frowned. "Was that a hint?"



"That was more than a hint, it was an order. You can borrow some of my things until we get you some new clothes, but that dress needs to go." She looked at her friend with raised eyebrows.



Krista looked at it sadly. Soiled, torn, and rather worn, it also emitted a very pungent odor. It was still beautiful, but it needed some serious cleaning and repairs before it was fit to be seen in public. "Yeah, it does, doesn't it? I really kind of liked it, too."



Danielle froze. "You liked . . . a dress? What exactly did they do to you on Naboo?"



"Don't read too much into it," Krista snapped, suddenly in a hurry to leave the room.



Danielle grinned as she poured oil into the skillet on the counter. "Wouldn't dream of it," she purred.





An hour later, Krista returned, feeling more like herself than she had in ages dressed in a pair of Danielle's pants that had been severely altered to stay on her and an insanely huge, baggy leather jacket over a black tank. Dinner--a roasted beast of some kind Krista had never encountered, a gift of Obi's new culinary lessons--was being served rather informally, the two girls and the Jedi sprawled comfortably around the table and looking forward to the excellent meal.



A little into the meal, Danielle was casually feeding scraps of her food to Sweetums, who lay at her side with his huge head purring in her lap, as Krista told them of her recent adventures. Danielle laughed uproariously at her tales of the banquet and the Gerogonian's unwanted wooing, and marveled at all she'd done in the scant weeks she'd been on Naboo. Even as Krista told it, she felt a little uncomfortable herself, amazed at how much this nonexistent galaxy was starting to feel like . . . home.



Now she was in the middle of her kidnap and escape; Danielle was rabid, amazed at how brave her friend had been.



"--so I really kinda panicked; I just took off, not knowing where I was or where I was going. They followed me, of course, and Amidala and her men were right on their heels, but I didn't know that. It was like some mad follow-the-leader game, and I was trying to run in this friggin' dress of all things, when I turned this corner and bam--ran smack into you guys. That lightsaber, Obi," she waved a hand at Obi-Wan, "was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my entire life. You guys saved my life." She smiled at Danielle, who smiled right back.



"Well, you saved mine, too," she said warmly. "Shooting that guy right off my back--he'll know better than to mess with us ever again, you better believe."



"Yeah." Krista looked a little self-conscious. "All those stupid weapons drills of Sache's really did have an impact, I guess. A little higher and I might've killed him."



There was a horrible pause, then Danielle cleared her throat. "So, anyway. I guess we've given Qui-Gon about long enough, don't you think?"



"Definitely," Obi-Wan agreed, eyeing the steaming dishes hungrily.



"Surely you're not going to start without me?"



They all turned to see a very amused Qui-Gon standing in the doorway. "Qui," Danielle said happily. "Just in time for dinner. Obi made that roasted grif-graf-whatever it was that you said you liked. Perfect timing."



"A Jedi's specialty," he said solemnly. "I didn't want to keep the two of you--" He stopped suddenly. "Or three," he added after a long pause, staring at Krista.



Krista stared right back, eyes equally wide, everything and everyone else in the kitchen suddenly unimportant.



"Qui-Gon, this is Kristae, the newest member of our little household," Danielle said cheerfully. "She's a handmaiden from Naboo, and she'll be staying with us for a little while. Oh, and we'll probably be visiting the Queen of Naboo and all the other handmaidens frequently over the next few weeks, so don't be too surprised if any of them turn up or give us a call."



"Oh . . . right," Qui-Gon said, mesmerized by the incredibly strange way Krista was looking at him and the incredible depth of her chocolate-brown eyes and the light that seemed to glimmer fathoms below their surface. "Nice to meet you . . . Kristae."



Krista was equally spellbound, her breath caught just in her throat. As Obi-Wan and Danielle watched, surprised, they stared at each other for a few moments longer before Krista stood up and walked over to him, slowly, and extended a hand. He took it almost dazedly, and they shook. No one even noticed the long, toothily grinning fish waft in over their heads and start to swat Sweetums in the face with his long, flippy tail.



"Nice to meet you too," she said softly. "I've been looking forward to it for such a long time."



There was a pause.



"So . . . you'll be staying with us for a little while, then?" he asked uncertainly, still looking dazed.



"Er . . . that's right. Danielle's an old buddy of mine. We go back a loooooong way. Idn that right, Cello?" she grinned, invoking her musical friend's old nickname.



"Sadly," Danielle muttered, realizing with a sort of glum premonition what Krista's evil smile betokened.



Qui-Gon seemed to be flailing for subjects to discuss. "Well . . . that's . . . good to know." Krista just raised her eyebrows at him.



Another pause. Danielle thought she could hear the heart of the severely undercooked (the perils of Cooking With Obi-Wan) graf-whatsis beating.



Again, Qui-Gon tried to start a sane conversation. "So . . . you're a Handmaiden?"



"Damn straight. And you're a Jedi. I've always wanted to meet one of you, you know. You have such a glamorous career: dramatic fight scenes and billowing cloaks and, of course, lightsabers." Her eyes slipped down to his belt. "Speaking of which . . . That's a nice lightsaber. " Krista gave him her most blinding, innocent smile. It would have been far more effective if Danielle hadn't known that it always preceded some excessively wicked comment. And, sure enough, Krista continued speaking. "You know, is it true what they say, that the size of your lightsaber is directly proportional to--"



Instincts and her newly developed premonition helped Danielle clap her hand over Krista's mouth just in time, before the damning word or euphemism escaped. Simultaneously, Obi-Wan snorted and spit out his drink in astonishment while Qui-Gon merely looked on blankly. In the ensuing pause (which surpassed all the others in drama and meaning), Danielle thanked any and all deities that Qui-Gon had led a fairly sheltered life as a Jedi and now simply seemed bewildered at his two charges' dramatic reactions.



Danielle removed her hand after some moments, then kicked Krista sharply under the table when the other girl only grinned more widely. As Krista let out a little, "Ouf!" and Obi-Wan wheezed for breath, Danielle said hastily, "You'll have to excuse Kristae. Her sense of humor can be a little . . . un-humorous."



Krista glared daggers, but Qui-Gon just looked at her. "Naturally," he said, looking more bewildered than ever. "A pleasure. Yes. I'll just--go get my boots, then," he informed them nonsensically.



Obi-Wan stared at him Master like he'd grown another head, Danielle shook her head in shame for her mentor's sudden lack of coherence--and Krista? Krista smiled like he'd just announced Christmas had come early and propped her chin in her hand, looking at him with dreamy eyes. "I just love a man with really long boots," she purred.



This time Danielle didn't bother to be subtle; she just hauled off and whacked Krista in the head as the other girl ducked and cursed and Obi-Wan's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Behave!" Danielle hissed, and Krista shot Danielle her patented "Who, me?" look.



When Qui-Gon merely looked at them like they were all insane, Danielle groaned internally. She'd been mistaken. This wasn't Star Wars. This was hell, and she was in it. "Weren't you going to have some dinner with us, Qui?" she asked plaintively.



He never so much as looked at her; his eyes stayed locked on Krista. "Er--yes--to be sure--I just should do this one--little--thing first. Really not long; don't wait for me . . . go on, go on, have fun." Tearing his gaze away, he fled. A sensible man would have done so long ago.



Krista turned and gave the two remaining members of the room a smile that showed a disturbing number of teeth. "I think I'll just go . . . give him a hand," she informed them, smile growing broader with every second. "Tata." With that, she too disappeared.



There was silence in the kitchen. The other two occupants didn't even notice when Gumbi deserted the boring Nexxu, settled himself over their main course, and began devouring it with large gulps.



Finally, still staring at the doorway, Obi-Wan spoke. "Did he just--?"



Danielle nodded, resigned. "Uh-huh."



"And does she--?"



"Oh, yeah."



"Will they--?"



Danielle looked at him. "Do you really want to know?"



He thought about this for a moment. "No, not really."



"Good, 'cause neither do I," she replied emphatically.



There was another meaningful silence.



"Why do I get the feeling that life is going to just keep getting more and more interesting with every passing day?" Obi-Wan asked mournfully.



Danielle swatted Gumbi aside and began serving herself. "Stop asking stupid questions and pass me the sauce."







The night air whipped past Annie's face as she squinted her eyes against the darkness, trying to see anything through her incredibly thick goggles. Her arms were wrapped tightly around Luke's back, but she still flinched every time they had to swerve sharply around a rock or shot over a cliff face. It was like the most intense thrill ride she'd ever been on with the added bonus of knowing that she might actually be in danger, and that she was riding into definite risk.



They finally pulled up outside of town and Luke slowed to a stop. The two leapt off the bike and removed their helmets and goggles, stowing them on the back of the bike. Then, with a mutual glance, they headed into the shadows.



Before departing they had mutually agreed that there was to be as little violence as possible. Considering that Annie expected her friends to be in a holding cell in an Imperial base, this might have been an impossible feat if not for the presence of the Jedi at her side.



The nights on Tatooine were far from deserted, but there were at least less people to worry about and more shadows to linger in. She'd grown accustomed to it while she'd been a city dweller, but now, after over a week in the peaceful isolation of Obi-Wan's hut, she flinched at every loud noise and shied from every traveler.



Luke was a preternaturally silent and surefooted guide, moving through the pools of liquid night like a shadow himself, barely discernible in the dim lighting. Annie followed him as best she could, uncomfortably aware of how loud and conspicuous she was compared to him. Well, it's not like I wouldn't be, after all, she reassured herself. He is a Jedi.



Things progressed swimmingly at first; they passed through the more popular district without incident and cautiously proceeded into the darker, quieter part of town comprised of homes and military presence. They passed the old bar where she'd had her first gig, and Annie spared it a wistful glance--everything had started there. If they hadn't offered her sanctuary that day, Essra and Cassie wouldn't be in danger--possibly dead--right now.



With her concentration wavering, she didn't notice that they'd entered the darker, less reputable part of town surround the Imperial base. Luke drew close to her and whispered, "I'm going to go a little ways ahead, scout out the area, see if there are any guards. Watch out for patrols; the Empire likes to hire bands of thugs to wander around and pick anyone up for 'trespassing', and take them in for questioning. Stay quiet and keep me in sight, all right?"



Annie nodded, feeling a cold sweat break out over her and a little shiver of panic skitter up her spine. Flashing her a faint, reassuring smile, he melted into the shadows in front of her, visible only by the gleam of his boots and the occasional flashing of his face under his dark hood.



Annie wrapped her arms around herself as she followed more slowly, battling her terror. It's all right, she told herself repeatedly. Nothing can happen to you. There's a Jedi with you, the most good and powerful one ever to be born, and he'll make sure nothing hurts you.



Still, the instinctive desire to run, to turn around and put the yawning shadows of the night far behind her, was almost overwhelming, looming up inside of her like some horrible beast. She knew just how terrible the Empire could be. She'd heard the stories of interrogations, or just sheer torture for the fun of it, psychological trauma inflicted to make a prisoner more susceptible or amenable to their wishes . . . knew that if she were caught, she could spill the names of dozens of others vital to the survival of the Rebellion on this particular little planet, and she really doubted how well she'd hold up under torture . . .



So, what are you going to do, then? Run . . . again? Leave your helpless friends behind and flee into the only relative safety of the night? Is that all you're good for?



She didn't think so. She'd come this far, by god, escaping slavery, eluding the imperials, and even becoming a halfway decent underground operative for the Rebellion. There was obviously at least a little steel in her backbone; she could do this one last thing and help her friends. She would do it.



She was so preoccupied with her inner turmoil that she let herself fall dangerously behind and stopped paying attention to her surroundings. Unsurprisingly, in the midst of her inattention, a dark figure suddenly loomed out of the shadows in front of her, cutting her off from Luke. "Hey! You! 'Choo you doin' wandrin' on Imperial grounds this time of night? Put your hands in the air!"



With a muffled shriek, she stumbled back, tripping and falling to the packed sand beneath her. Even as she landed with a painful thump, she saw half a dozen other figures suddenly appear all around her, tall and menacing in the darkness.



Time seemed to pass absurdly slowly after that. She let out a little half-scream, fumbling for the weapon at her side she didn't even know how to use as Luke sprinted back to her side, drawing his lightsaber in a fluid motion, and the figure in front of her reached into his robes . . .



And then, for no reason at all, she felt a wave of premonition like nothing she'd ever imagined before wash over her, and she flung up her hands, crying, "Stop!"



Startled, he froze, lightsaber disengaged but still poised and ready, as the nearest dark figure drew close enough to see . . .



"Annie!" it suddenly exclaimed in that same coarse, uneducated voice. "Yer . . . yer her, ain't you? Annie? The one that sings them wunnerful songs up at the Grand Stage?"



Her heart hammering in her chest so hard that she thought it was going to crack a rib, she flashed him the bright celebrity smile she'd had good chance to perfect over the past few weeks. "That's right."



"Gee!" The delight in the mysterious giant's voice was unmistakable. "Hey, guys, lookit this! It's Annie!"



The other gangsters put up their weapons with similar expressions of astonished delight as Luke slowly, incredulously lowered his lightsaber, flashing Annie a look of total disbelief. Ignoring him, she rose to her feet with as much dignity as she could muster and walked toward her adoring fans, still smiling gently.



"Wow, ma'am, I never though' I'd get to meetcha like this . . ." another babbled senselessly, extending a clawed appendage that Annie shook without batting an eyelash.



"It's my pleasure," she assured them all magnanimously, to their increased delight.



"Could I have your autograph?" another gushed hopefully, fumbling in its dark robes for something to sign.



"Certainly," she replied, and suddenly all but one of them were hunting desperately for a memento she could make priceless.



Luke was trying to catch her eye, but she didn't dare look at him; she knew that if she did, she'd burst into hysterical laughter or collapse in a bundle of shot nerves--neither of which would be very helpful in their present situation. Instead, she accepted the writing utensils and various objects that were thrust at her from all sides and signed them numbly, hoping she was at least spelling her name correctly, while Luke hovered uncertainly at her side.



One of the alien thugs abruptly seemed to notice him for the first time. "Hey! 'Oo's he?"



"My bodyguard," Annie said promptly, and she felt Luke jerk in surprise beside her, then give her a look of mixed amusement and admiration.



They accepted this explanation without pause, and she finished signing for everyone without further questions. When she'd finished, however, the aliens glanced at each other hopefully, then at last decided they had to ask the perfunctory questions.



"Uh . . . where are yeh goin' so late at night in these parts, ma'am?" one asked hesitantly.



Annie's mind, working so well before, traitorously blanked, leaving her slack-jawed and fish-like. Luke, however, was still in possession of all his faculties. "She's got a meeting with one of those higher up," he said, gesturing vaguely at the more posh residential section. "One of 'em wants a private concert; he's thinking about signing her on for another record deal."



Exclamations of understanding came from all the aliens. "Sure thing," one said.



The leader still didn't look fully convinced. "At this hour?" he asked gruffly.



Luke shrugged. "It was supposed to be . . . hush," he said, his voice thick with meaning.



They looked embarrassed now. "Well, then, doan let us keep yeh from it. We'll just be about our business, now."



Annie gave them a coy little wave. "Nice meeting you gentlemen," she said sweetly, and a few of them waved back before converging with excited whispers and disappearing into the shadows again.



Once they were obviously out of hearing range, Luke relaxed his stance and shot Annie an amused glance. "You're either smarter than you look or criminally insane," he remarked.



Annie glared at him, still panting from pent-up panic. "Well, they didn't clap us in irons and drag us in, did they? It seemed to work well enough."



"You didn't tell me you were a celebrity."



Annie grimaced slightly. "I tend to forget myself. It . . . takes a lot of getting used to."



"I imagine." His eyes still held that gleam of amusement, but they were wary as well. "That was quite a gamble you took, though. What if they hadn't been such loyal fans? Our stealthy approach would have been for nothing."



That same strange, cold-but-not-in-a-physical-way sensation swept over her again, making goosebumps pop out on her arms. She shrugged uncomfortably. "I just . . . knew."



Luke's blue eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed again. "You . . ." Abruptly, he shook his head, as if snapping himself out of a stupor. "Well. This is a discussion for another time. Right now we have a job to do."



Annie nodded numbly, and when he set forward again, she followed him as silently as she could.



They reached the building of choice without further incident. By this point Annie was bristling like a cat, starting at every noise and practically vibrating with tension.



"Shhh," Luke soothed her quietly. "Hold it together back there. I need to figure out a way in."



Annie nodded stiffly, her eyes scanning the shadows unceasingly.



After a few tense, hair-raising minutes, Luke said softly, "Ah," and beckoned Annie after him.



"This should do nicely," he whispered, gesturing at a small grate just barely large enough to squeeze through.



Annie studied it suspiciously. "Is it unlocked?"



He shot her an eloquent glance. "Locks make no difference to Jedi."



Annie was impressed. "Mind tricks?"



He might have smiled; it was hard to tell in the dim and uncertain light. "Lightsabers."



Annie grinned. "Ah."



Luke demonstrated his impressive Jedi powers by drawing his lightsaber, igniting it, and proceeding to slice cleanly through the hinges of the grate. It swung open smoothly, and in a single swift movement he disengaged his blade, thrust it into a pocket, and caught the grate before it could hit the floor.



"Nice work," Annie said before she could stop herself. "You must have a lot of experience at breaking and entering."



"All part and parcel of the Good Guy package," he agreed solemnly; before she could respond, he slipped inside, cape flaring dramatically behind him as he slid into the dark unknown.



Annie waited until he said, slightly impatiently, "Come on!" before she followed. The passage was unpleasant; she slid down a dark tunnel rather roughly, with only the impression of being closed in on all sides, then landing with an abrupt thump on a dark floor.



She sensed Luke flinch at the slight noise she made when she hit the ground, and motioned apologetically. He brushed the gesture aside and drew his lightsaber, keeping it still and ready in his hand as he set off noiselessly across the room.



Lacking the Jedi's apparent night-vision, all Annie could make out of the room was a dark blur and several looming shapes, rather like file cabinets. Luke was moving stealthily toward a thin shaft of light that she assumed must be overnight lights on in the hallway, and she followed as carefully as she could, wincing every time she ran into something or thought she heard a noise.



Luke opened the door to the hall within infinite care, then peered cautiously outside. After a moment he motioned Annie to join him, then they stepped slowly into the hall.



The fluorescents had been dimmed to only a quarter of their usual brilliance, providing enough illumination to see by but still leaving the atmosphere hazy and unreal. Security cameras blinked implacably on the white-tiled floors and the occasional crackle of a sensor sweep washed over the room, but beyond that, all was still.



Luke stood motionless a moment, eyes half-closed, expression serene. As Annie watched, they suddenly snapped open, brilliant and focused once more. "Your friends are in the detention area," he whispered. "It's not far."



Annie gestured wordlessly at the cameras.



In response, Luke held out a hand. A ripple of something radiated out from his hand preceding them down the hall and touching every light, camera, and security station in its path. All went dead as soon as it had.



"We should be out of here before they even notice we've arrived," he said softly. "Come on; we have to hurry." Without a further word, he swept down the hall, another black shadow fading into all the rest. Annie hurried to keep up.



Their journey to the detention center was almost frighteningly easy. The building, strangely enough, appeared to be deserted, and no mechanical hazards barred the way either. By the time they descended the set of stairs leading to the captives, Annie was filled with a restrained euphoria. This might actually work. It certainly seemed to be going without a hitch so far.



In the detention area, Luke swept purposefully down the hall until he came to a specific cell. Nodding at Annie, he ignited his lightsaber and sliced neatly through the control panel, which, surprisingly, caused the metal door to slide aside.



Annie rushed into the small cell before the door had even ceased moving. Inside, she dropped to her knees next to a prone figure. "Cassie? Oh, god, Cassie!"



She'd never noticed, somehow, through all the confidence and glamor, but . . . Sick and pale from the fever, all joy and jazz stripped from her in this hellish prison, and she shrank to her original state: a girl hardly older than Annie herself, and barely, if any, wiser. What unfair deity ruled this universe, that someone so full of light and love could be brought so low?



When Annie wrung her hand desperately, Cassie gave a little tremor all over, her eyelids fluttering a little. Two startling grey eyes opened and stared directly into Annie's own. "Annie?" Cassie said weakly. "You--you really came?"



Annie embraced her friend, shaking with relief. "Oh, Cassie, I was so scared--"



To Annie's utter shock, Cassie wrenched herself out of her friend's embrace. "No! Annie, you don't understand! It's a trap!" she moaned.



Annie shoved backward to her feet. "What?"



Tears were streaming from Cassie's eyes. "They were waiting for you. They want you, for some reason--somehow they knew--you have to go--"



Annie didn't even wait for her to finish. "Luke, it's a trap!" she screamed, scrambling backward.



The Jedi was at her side in a heartbeat. "Get all the prisoners free," he said through gritted teeth. "We have to get out of here, now!"



Instead, the lights went out.



"Oh, hell," Annie said distinctly into the silence.



Luke didn't give her time to ponder the extreme unfairness of life. Giving her a shove, he ripped off his encumbering cape and engaged his lightsaber all in one fluid motion. "Free them!" he repeated. When Annie, shocked, didn't moved, he snapped, "Now!"



Regaining her senses, Annie flew down the dark hall as, behind her, a dazzling aurora borealis of red and green shots suddenly came hailing through the ebony blankness, somehow all stopped by the single thin blade of blue light the Jedi wielded. Drawing her blaster unsteadily, she aimed it for the lock and fired. Absurdly, this did the trick, and the door slid open. Not bothering to go in, she rushed to the next door and did the same, and continued until everyone in the holding area was free.



Glancing at Luke, she realized he was hard-pressed, his fighting skills limited by such close quarters. They didn't have much time left. Cursing under her breath, she skidded back to the cell where Cassie still lay in a semi-conscious stupor.



Throwing an arm around her, Annie hauled her friend to her feet, ignoring the other woman's soft moan of pain. "Come on, Cassie," she said, her voice trembling with mixed rage and tears, "we're gonna get you out of here, I promise. Essra!"



Her lizardlike comrade appeared instantly, and they shared a brief look of love and understanding. Then, Annie passed Cassie to Essra and turned to head to Luke. Before she could go, however, Cassie caught her arm, and Annie turned back, startled.



Cassie's eyes were clouded with fever, her skin burning hot to the touch, and her lips puffy and swollen, but somehow the words that emerged from them were surprisingly clear. "You came back. I still can't believe you came back for us."



"Of course I came back," Annie reassured her, almost hurt. "How could you think I would--?"



Cassie reached out and put a finger to her lips, silencing her. "I never really understood who you are or where you came from," she whispered, "but I see now that it doesn't matter. I . . . I don't think we'll ever meet again, sweetie, but even still . . . I'll never forget you, ever."



Annie stared at her, stricken, thinking her friend was saying she was about to die. "Cassie . . ."



Luke's sudden shout, however, snapped her back into the presence. Swallowing her sorrow and confusion, she gripped Cassie's hand for a brief moment, then nodded to Essra. With one last sad smile, she disappeared into the smoke and confusion, carrying Cassie with them.



Annie slammed a door closed on yet another part of her heart as she turned and headed back to the Jedi's side. "Luke!" she cried, clamoring to be heard above the din. "They're all gone! What--?"



And, just like that, the firing stopped.



Luke froze, for a moment seemingly unable to grasp the sudden cessation of violence, then slowly lowered his lightsaber, his expression one of utmost wariness. Annie, in an exact opposite move, raised her blaster, staring into the shadows.



"Hold your attack!" a voice called out. "We wish to parley with you, Jedi."



Luke narrowed his pale blue eyes. "Parley? We will not and have no need to surrender, or make any concessions. What do you have to offer us?"



A deep, rolling chuckle emerged from the darkness and smoke, a sound like flesh raked over coals, and it left a taste of wet ash in both Luke and Annie's mouths. "Your lives," a man's voice said calmly, in that same sickening flavor as the laugh. "Well, one of your lives, at least."



Annie's hand, still aiming her gun into the shadows, began to shake, and she felt sweat began to pearl on her forehead. She had thought she'd been afraid before, when she knew she was returning to face terrible odds and possibly her own death. That emotion paled in the face of what she now felt. This was more than fear; it was the awareness of perfect and insatiable evil.



A figure stepped forward from the mist, unassuming in physical appearance, and yet somehow all the more terrible for it. He was a slight man, seemingly human in form, with graying hair and fading blue eyes and a wretched, lascivious smile that he directed wholly on Annie.



She shuddered, and backed away unwillingly. Even as she did, Luke placed himself between her and the newcomer, lightsaber raised threateningly. "Who are you?" he asked coolly, no hint of fear detectable in his voice. With a little bit of a shock, Annie felt some of her own unreasoning terror lessen. She was in the company of the greatest Jedi to ever live, and he was unafraid; surely that would count for something.



"No one in particular," the little old man answered, shrugging easily. "Especially not to you, Jedi. Who I am is no concern of yours."



"If you want something to do with Annie, it most certainly is my concern," Luke returned somewhat harshly. "She is under my protection, and I won't allow anything to happen to her."



The little man sighed, and reached up to massage his temples wearily. "There's no need to make things difficult. If you let me have the girl, you're free to go."



Luke snorted. "As if the Empire would actually let me go," he said, a hint of arrogance unbecoming a Jedi apparent in his voice.



The little old man gave the most unpleasant, amused little smile Annie had ever seen, hunching his thin shoulders as though repressing laughter. "And who said this had anything to do with the Empire? I command these troops. I staged this attack. I want the girl. Capisce, my mend-bending friend?"



To this, Luke had no answer; but, as she listened, a cold shiver frissoned down Annie's spine, like a gut-deep instinct warning her away or some barely perceived voice saying it had warned her. It was not a pleasant sensation.



The little old man still hadn't finished talking. "She won't survive what we have to do to her, it's true," he conceded. "But what concern is that of yours? You barely know the girl, and she's hardly important in the grand scheme of things--to you, anyway. She happens to be very important to me. Just hand her over, and you're free to continue to play your prophetic role in this happy scenario. All you have to do is give me the girl."



As he spoke, the old man's voice deepened, softened, taking on the texture of smooth, sweet honey or clouding wine. Even Annie could feel herself being soothed and lulled by it; it was odd, she thought almost bemusedly, that Luke hadn't already handed her over.



Then the Jedi spoke, and his words seemed to cut through some sort of psychological barrier that had been drawn over Annie's mind. "Never."



The little man was no longer soft and soothing; now he looked pissed. "Why must you be so difficult? Really, I don't even know why you bother. You're out of your ken, Jedi; far out of your ken."



As he spoke, his voice grew deeper, more gravelly, taking on a different accent. Then, in the space of a heartbeat, he changed--and instead of a little old man, he was a dark-skinned, towering man with eyes like blazes and fire in his hands, and he filled the room like a thundercloud descended from the heavens.



Luke, for one, seemed to be struck dumb by a feat reckoned magical even to a Jedi, and had no words. Annie, however, was strangely unfazed by this little trick. She'd sensed the potential for this in her initial fear of him, so the actual act didn't do much to add to it.



Ignoring Luke now, the hellish vision turned its black, soulless gaze to Annie, who shrank away from it helplessly. "This girl, on the other hand," it purred, "this girl understands me, I think. She knows this is the bargain that must be made."



Swallowing, Annie managed to find her voice. "But I don't--"



It cut her off with a single statement. "I know what you are."



Annie froze, completely and totally petrified by horror.



Still grinning, it continued to move forward, horribly slowly, like some twisted nightmare made real. "Did you really think you wouldn't get caught?" he asked, laughter rumbling through his body. "Did you really think I wouldn't find you, in the end? You've had your fun; you've romped in this world long enough. It's time for me to call in the debts, girl, and you've racked up quite the bill."



Annie was shaking all over now, not fully aware of what he was talking about but terrified nonetheless. Somehow, she managed to find her voice. "Really, I don't know what you're talking about," she said desperately, wishing she could turn and run but instead unable to budge. "I'm just . . . I was a singer in a local cantina . . ."



The man snarled at her. "Don't lie to me, girl," he sneered, stalking closer. "I know where you come from, how you got here, what you intend to do. Don't think I don't. And I'm gonna stop you. You knew I would. The four of you should have known you'd never get away with this . . ."



Annie's voice shook with sincerity. "I swear to you, I have no idea what--"



In a single stride, he crossed the room, breezing past Luke and all the others to stand right next to her. "Enough games," he hissed, breath rancid in her face. As he spoke, he reached out a drew forth the necklace that had lain hidden under Annie's shirt as she stared at him in mixed terror and bewilderment. "It's time I did what I came for." With a single, swift motion, he yanked, and the chain on the necklace snapped in his hand.



Luke yelled, the man laughed, and the room swirled with movement again, but Annie heard none of. All she was aware of was a sudden sensation of dizziness, almost separateness, like she was looking down on her own body from far above and there was nothing to hear but her own gasping breaths . . .



Then everything disappeared, reality swirling away into a screaming black nothingness that seemed the shoot acid through Annie's veins and split her skull with noise. She was screaming and screaming, but all she could hear, could feel, was hell and darkness . . . until there was nothing.