Kazzy: Glad you liked my Charlotte's Web reference. :-P And I specialize in them getting into trouble. [face_devil], what can I say? :-D

Disclaimer: Don't own it, don't sue… Short chappie I know. *sigh*

Chapter Eleven


"I still think we should have tried to blast our way in," Carson complained. "Sneaking in seems so... so... so sissy."

Rosie agreed but there was no way she'd tell Carson. She reached over and patted her little friend on the top of her blonde head. "Blast our way in? We have two blasters between us. Ho-"

Carson reached over her shoulders and whipped out two lightsaber hilts from behind her neck. Holding them at an arms length, the hilts forming a triangle with the floor, then she thumbed them on. Out of one a vibrant purple blade shot out, while the other one had no color.

A brief shimmer caught Rosie's eye and her question froze before it was voiced. Carson's smile was predatory and gleeful. "Like 'em?"

"I only see one." Rosie squinted at the empty space, trying to see the flicker again. Did I imagine it?

"There are two." Carson's voice was filled with satisfaction. "And both are mine. See this one?" she shut down the purple blade and returned it to one of the three hidden slots sewn into her black jump suit.

Walking over to a black surface she held the clear lightsaber over it, the faint outline of it barely visible. "It's like water," Rosie marveled, reaching out a hand to touch the blade.

"Watch it!" Carson yelped, snapping off the blade. A surprised voice and a loud stumble followed by a thud let the girls know that they were in trouble.

Rosie's eyes went really wide. "What is it?" hissed Carson.

"Do you remember if I locked the door?" Rosie whispered fearfully.

They looked at each other for a moment; then they stared at the door; they groaned. They were toast.

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Kyp glanced surreptitiously at the brown-haired man who lay on the cold floor beside him. The stranger's face was a mask of agony that made Kyp's own pain seem relatively nonexistent.

"Hey si-uhh…" Kyp's whispered communication dissolved into a moan of pain as Jexna kicked him in the ribs with the point of her high heeled boots.

"Shaddup!" she hissed, her neon outfit looking absurdly out of place in the dark mysterious palace.

"And what do you expect me to do?" asked a rather bored Empress, lounging in her throne much like the late emperor had.

The twins shared a worried glance. "We brought you your husband-"

"We brought you two slaves-" Tramis and Jexna said simultaneously, they shared another worried glance.

Laedala raised an eyebrow. "I have no need for slaves or for my… Lover." Her tone was insulting. "Mara." A slender woman, quieter then a ghost of light slipped from the shadows at the summons. "What do you think we should do with them?" Laedala's voice held only slight traces of curiosity.

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Mara felt empty. Her brain was numb from the aftershock of Laedala's invasion. Faces flashed before her eyes. Words slid by in her mind. Reality faded away as images from the past – her past – enveloped her.

A pair of green eyes… a pair of fading blue ones… the slight forms of the young Jedi initiates…. The hardened military officials… the influential members of the court… the shadowy figures of Jedi as they fell to the ground… all of the beings she had ever killed.

Images she had long since forgotten, images she had used to comfort herself late at night, images of her missions swam lazily in her mind.

Voices from an era long gone whispered like Harpies in her ears, promising everything yet offering nothing.

"Who are you?"

"What are you?

"What has happened?"

"How did you know?"

The words her victims uttered if she allowed them the time and luxury. "The Emperor's Hand has found you…" Mara said softly, unconsciously repeating the phrase she had used when her Master allowed her to identify herself.

Laedala rolled her eyes and sighed loudly, "Ma-ra." She drawled, her patience growing thin.

Mara suddenly looked carefully at Han's agony twisted face. – He is a high-ranking rebel – a dim voice informed her. She turned her hard eyes to Laedala again. "Kill him." Her voice was hard, cold, emotionless. Her assassin's voice, the one from her days of glory.

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Laedala felt satisfaction grow. Yes… Kill him… a sudden shot of panic raced through her as she looked at her hus-LOVER!! A voice screamed at her inside her head. Han, dearest Han… she raised a hand to issue the order to release him. A war erupted inside her and her hand stilled.

He left me! He deserves to die! I don't need him! Her mind cried.

He loves me! He was frightened! I want him! Her heart countered.

A war was waged, a battle fought.

Her mind won.

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Kyp watched in horror as the redhead raised a hand and in one quick motion made a fist and jerked it like she was tightening a bolt. The man's head snapped, hanging from his neck at an abnormal angle. It was her. Kyp knew it. Somehow she had broken his neck. A maelstrom of emotions rose in Kyp faster then he thought possible.

Blinding outrage at her brutality. Paralyzing fear of her power. Frustration at her causal stance on death. Admiration for her objectivity. Anger at her blindness.

He had seen the look on the Empress's face; she hadn't wanted him dead. When she had cowered back against her throne, he vowed to protect her. A strange power surrounded him. He could feel it. The jade eyed woman smiled coldly and his rage mounted. His lip curled and he pushed at the power, trying to throw it in her direction.

"Kyp Durron…" the Empress said softly. "I am going to have these pirates killed." The stun cuffs fell from his wrists and the people surrounding him froze. "Would you do the honors?"

He glanced at one, his revulsion a living thing in him. He stopped as he saw her mocking green eyes. A sudden rushing filled his head and all he was aware of was fear. Fear, coupled with roiling anger. The power sang to him and he reached out and grabbed a handful mentally. Holding it steady he imagined it as fire, imagined it crashing down on the pirates. They deserve it, he thought dimly.

His eyes sprang open at the intense heat. Charred lumps of human flesh lay about him, tiny flames still licking up from the remains of the clothing. The smell made him gag. The room wavered and he took an unsteady step forward. He wasn't aware of how he slammed his head into the ground as he slipped back into the comforting arms of unconsciousness.