Shadows of the Past, Book Two: Poisoned Stars

Timeline: 20 after the Battle of Yavin Chapter One: Dark Challenge

The blue-white streaks of starlight suddenly shrank around the small starship, coalescing into the vast emptiness of space. But that vast emptiness was not quite so empty, for the forested jungle moon of Yavin Four loomed below them. The three Jedi who were aboard the floating transport ship breathed a collective sigh of relief. They had spent the past while in a trying hyperspace journey with very precious—and dangerous—cargo. Their nerves were on edge, but returning to their home brought some measure of calm to their taut souls.

"We're here at last," sighed one of the Jedi, a brown-haired girl in her mid-teens. She leaned over the viewport, letting her blue eyes drink in the sight of the green trees. Her name was De-Lanna Tamaran, a student of the Jedi. And she was glad to be home.

A Twi'lek female, also young, drew her plain homespun robes around her curvaceous figure, the modest garments hiding her lush fullness. She held her chin imperiously, serene and calm. "I'm glad," she said tonelessly. "At least now we can be rid of our…cargo. Those dark Jedi in the back have been trying of late."

De-Lanna saw the third Jedi, a human male around her age, smirk in that roguish way of his. "Leena's just mad that she doesn't have your looks, Ascera. That's the only reason why she'd try pulling pranks on you with the Force." De-Lanna knew that many youthful members of the Jedi Order found him, Ran Tonno-Skeve, a handsome and charming rapscallion—a scoundrel in Jedi robes. She would not admit it openly, but she agreed with the assessment. But she still felt extremely irritated with his carefree demeanor. The fact that he made no less than six passes at her during their arduously long hyperspace journey did not make him endearing any faster.

Ascera, Ran's oldest friend and sister figure, leveled a mean glare. "I find it equally unsettling that you insist on referring to them by name, Ran."

The irreverent youth only flashed a disarming smile. His green eyes glittered mischievously. "I don't see the problem. They're people like us. Just because they're evil doesn't mean we shouldn't give them at least some courtesy."

De-Lanna watched him closely. They had just returned from an adventure in the distant reaches of space, on a forgotten planet called Mathassi. There, they had found an ancient Jedi Temple and three dark Jedi who sought its secrets: the venerable dark side master Marcus Tauth, the volatile Rodian Quid Carm, and the vivacious Twi'lek Leena. The dark Jedi had been defeated and taken captive, held securely in the transport's cargo hold. That should have been the end of it, but De-Lanna had the eerie feeling that the followers of the dark side had gained the beginnings of a convert.

Ran was always a prankster, and had pulled off many a trick upon De-Lanna and Ascera during their journey to Mathassi. But on the return trip, he had grown increasingly distant. Though she did not know him long, De-Lanna had the distinct impression that Ran was not one for meditation—yet in the past few days, he had taken up long solitary hours in the cabins for contemplation. He was thinking of something, and whatever it was, he wanted to keep it private; even his mind was shrouded from the prying telepathy of his Jedi companions, even his own best friend. De-Lanna had the sinking feeling that she knew what he was thinking about.

If Ran ever turned to the dark side, she would have to put him down, dashing good looks or no.

"Anyway," Ran said suddenly, "let's land this garbage bin. Since we dropped Carson and Borworken back on Ord Mantell, I'll finally get a chance to practice some maneuvers." The green-eyed Jedi took the pilot's seat and strapped himself in. De-Lanna and Ascera took their own seats nearby. Ran sent the ship into an easy landing, powering down systems with ease born of a hundred flights. They settled within one of the ancient Massassi temples that served as the Jedi praxeum. Through the viewport, De-Lanna could see a black-cloaked figure waiting for them on the landing pad, radiating fatherly pride in the Force.

"Master Skywalker's waiting for us," she announced joyously.

"Then we'd better bring out the dark Jedi," Ascera said grimly, reminding her of their task. "Someone tell him to get ready for three Force-using prisoners. I'll open the cargo hold."

An hour later, the dark Jedi were under close guard, their powers nullified by neural disrupters. Master Skywalker and Ascera were deep in conversation, and De-Lanna, feeling out of place, excused herself and went to the gymnasium to release the tension building in her shoulders. A lengthy hyperspace trip in a small transport only encouraged muscle cramps, to her mind.

The gymnasium was empty, for most of the other students were hard at their lessons elsewhere. Alone in perfect silence, she went to the center of the chamber and activated her lightsaber. Its white blade—a unique color derived from the broken Jedi holocron she had installed as its focusing crystal—bathed her in its soft, warm glow. She spun the blade in her hands, reversing her grip. From that stance, she stepped into a caressing attack, switched to a swift wide stroke, flowed into a diagonal slash, doubled back and pirouetted with her blade trailing. From form to form she glided, tireless, her face drawn into tight concentration.

Her muscles loosened as they were stretched. Her body became an instrument that she played with a master's care. The weapon in her hands was nothing more than an extension of her being, a living thing wrapped in living fingers, held in living palms. It spun, wove, danced, dived, and rose as if it were the stick of a conductor, orchestrating a great symphony. It went on like that for hours.

Then she felt the presence of Master Skywalker. Her concentration faltered and she stopped, her consciousness brought back to reality. Sweat beaded her fair brow, matted her brown hair and ponytail to her neck. She was panting. "Master?" she inquired respectfully, deactivating her lightsaber and bowing low. Droplets of perspiration dropped to the gymnasium floor. She glared at the offending sweat balefully, uncomfortable at looking so bedraggled.

"At ease, De-Lanna," Skywalker said kindly. He sat on a nearby bench and motioned for her to do as well. Wiping her brow on her sleeve, she clipped her lightsaber to her belt and joined him. "Ascera reported to me all that transpired on Mathassi. I would like your take on it."

"But if she already told you, why do you need me, Master?"

"Sometimes, its better to have another perspective. This removes bias, or at least lessens it. And I have many questions."

"I will gladly answer them, Master, if I am able."

Skywalker shook his head. "These questions will be more adequately answered if they are left unspoken. I will find these answers in your account of what happened."

De-Lanna nodded with some understanding. "Very well, Master. When we arrived on Mathassi, we learned that the two native races, the Mathassar and the Quelsar, became allied to the two sides of the Force about two thousand years ago. The Mathassar learned from the Jedi led by Dalaan Norsh. The Quelsar were trained by Darth Malice, a Sith Lord who sought the energies of Mathassi for his own nefarious ends. Norsh and his Mathassar allies waged war on Malice and the Quelsar. They won, but at great cost. Norsh ultimately confronted Malice and defeated him, trapping him in a cryogenic chamber.

"Norsh then asked the Mathassar to build a Jedi Temple as a prison for Malice's frozen body. As time went on, the Mathassar Jedi died off without passing on their tradition to future generations. By the time we arrived, there were no Jedi on Mathassi, though the Jedi are still respected there. Apparently, Norsh promised to fulfill some religious prophecy of the Mathassar, called the Great Return. We were tasked with bringing about the Great Return in Norsh's absence. Our mission took first priority, though.

"We went to the Jedi Temple, where we found the three dark Jedi attempting to free Darth Malice from his cryogenic sleep. I…I fear that Marcus Tauth, their leader, said words to Ran, trying to turn him to the dark side. I think he may actually be contemplating those words." De-Lanna had drifted to a whisper at the end of her summary. She felt cold inside and she shivered.

Master Skywalker took it all in stride, pursing his lips in thought. "I will speak with Ran. Ascera expressed similar concerns about him, which is not surprising considering how close they are."

The brown-haired Jedi shifted in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable. "Master Skywalker, how close are they, anyway?" I am just curious, she thought to herself, I am just curious, nothing more.

"They've known each other since they were kids, actually. Ascera was under the protection of a Jedi Knight named Zell Oomfra at the time, and on a side trip to Coruscant, Master Oomfra found Ran. He was running with a gang in the lower levels at the time, a filthy child and petty thief living among squalor and cutthroats. He was arrested for larceny and thrown into a horrible jail cell at the age of five. Master Oomfra paid for his bail and took him with her. That was how Ran and Ascera met; they became inseparable shortly after."

"I see." De-Lanna sounded distant. "So they're like siblings, then?"

"Yes. Closer than siblings, even. They share a bond, as I share a bond with my own sister, Leia. Bonds like that are very powerful and should never be underestimated. They should also be watched over with wariness; I found accounts in our archives of bonded Jedi turning to the dark side because their partner did so—such is the power of the bonds."

De-Lanna's eyes widened and breathed, "Then Ascera is in danger as well." The brown-haired Jedi did not particularly like the aloof, overly serene Twi'lek, finding her higher-than-thou attitude hard to swallow, but she did not want to lose a fellow Jedi to the dark side.

"Do not fear for Ascera," Skywalker told her. "She is a strong girl, and her concern for Ran will be her shield against the dark side's pull. Compassion is what separates the light and dark sides most, De-Lanna. Remember this."

"Yes, Master." She paused for a moment. "Master, did you find the answers you sought?"

"A few." Skywalker suddenly stood, brushing his slacks smooth. "I think that's enough philosophy for the day. But think about what I've said. Thank you for bearing with me about the Mathassi mission."

De-Lanna stood as well. "You're welcome, Master Skywalker. If you'll excuse me, I'll head for the refreshers."

Her shower gave her time to think about the events on Mathassi. Sitting in the refresher, letting the water dribble pleasingly down her back, breasts, and chin, she could clearly see the Rodian dark Jedi, Quid Carm, in her mind's eye. The insect-like face, the beady faceted eyes, the snarling tapered snout. But above all, she could feel the cold, ruthless determination as he advanced on her and Ran. His crimson lightsaber hewn down the cemetery headstones around them, his black boots crunched atop the snow. But his eyes were set, hard and unrelenting, as were his blows.

She remembered the pain most clearly. A kick to her throat, bruising it, a blast of Force power to her midriff that hurtled her into a gravestone, almost breaking her back. De-Lanna shivered under the hot spray of the shower. Never before had she been so close to death. Ran managed to defeat Carm, but was almost killed because of her. That nail drove harder and truer than any other—that she was almost a fatal liability.

"Pull yourself together," she mumbled to herself. "You are a Jedi, so act like it." But her words rang hollow in her ears. She toweled herself dry and donned her customary leathers, cinching her belt tight around her tabard. "Pull yourself together," she repeated, breathing slowly to relax. "It was just your first mission. Things can happen to the inexperienced. This was a learning experience, nothing more." But the bite of failure still gnawed at her soul.

De-Lanna returned to the gymnasium to meditate, finding a place symbolic of activity more to her liking whenever she attempted to center herself. To her surprise, she found Ran already there, working through lightsaber routines. Though she was a skilled swordswoman and was proud of that fact, she respected the green-eyed Jedi—infuriating though he may be—as a fellow warrior. He possessed surprising flexibility and almost instinctual cunning on the battlefield.

But he was using new maneuvers that she had never seen before. Even more surprising, he was using two lightsabers, his own and a low-energy practice weapon. The two blades spun in stilted disharmony. He was working through codified steps, she could tell, but he had not yet perfected the motion of fighting with two long weapons.

"Where'd you learn that?" she asked.

He turned to face her, his brow glistening. "I read about it in one of the holocrons we found."

Suspicion bored into De-Lanna's heart. "The one you took from Tauth?"

The green-eyed Jedi was hesitant, but ultimately replied a single, toneless affirmative. "Why did you take it, anyway?" she pressed.

"It's got a lot of knowledge that's been forgotten," he explained, almost defensively. "Knowledge that can be used for good. Take this, for example. I'm using an archaic fighting style that hasn't been seen in centuries. It's a good style. With two lightsabers, I can attack and defend at the same time. I'll be better at protecting people with this."

"'A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge, never for attack,'" she quoted sternly. "And you learned that style from a Sith holocron, no less! They see it simply a tool to kill with, not to protect others."

Ran shrugged. "I don't intend to use it to kill needlessly. Besides, if we are afraid to delve into the dark side, to learn of it and its dangers, then how are we to protect ourselves against it? We can't sit here in an ivory tower forever, De-Lanna." he shot back harshly. De-Lanna winced at the vitriol in his voice and it seemed that even Ran was surprised at his own tone. But he pressed on with his defense. "I just read a little bit from the holocron, anyway, enough to understand the basics of a two-weapon fighting style. Many people use it, anyway: gunslingers, knife fighters. Why not Jedi?"

"Ran—"

He made a cutting gesture with one lightsaber, silencing her. "Tauth was right about some things. The Jedi are too cloistered, at least right now. Maybe the Old Republic Jedi were better off, but they had to travel to protect all those worlds. All of us are still in training. But we should be out there, protecting people!"

"But like you said, we're just students. We're not ready for that. Force, we almost got killed on Mathassi!"

"So? Ascera and I have been on scores of missions already and we've had just as many brushes with death as Master Skywalker himself! That makes us strong, makes us strive to become better."

"That's a big risk you'll be running, throwing your life on the line like that. Ascera or Master Skywalker won't like that kind of mindset. I certainly don't."

"Maybe, maybe not. But I feel this in my bones, De-Lanna. You wouldn't know, this being your first mission. I've seen that galaxy, lived in it. I didn't have the luxury of being cooped up in this academy day in and day out like you. Ascera and I had to survive out there, barely half-trained. And we did." He deactivated his lightsabers, tossed the practice weapon onto a nearby rack, clipped his own to his belt, and strode out of the gymnasium.

"I think I liked you better when you were just a pain in the rear," she whispered as he passed her. He stopped momentarily, then left without a word.

Thus it went for the next several days. Ran distanced himself from the others, even his longtime friend, Ascera Dax. Many times De-Lanna saw him leave shortly before dawn, heading deep into the jungles, which were fraught with their own dangers and predators. He would always return around supper, dirty and bedraggled, sometimes with his tunic matted with blood. But he would say nothing of his adventures in the wilds, other than that he needed to meditate in an environment more stimulating than the "ivory tower" of the academy.

Master Skywalker had gone to him, De-Lanna knew, but what words they said were unknown to her—or any other. But she saw the tension in the Master's eyes, and she suspected that Ran had rebuffed him, harshly. Ascera grew more and more worried for her best friend, for he evaded even her companionship. As the Twi'lek's concerns developed, so did De-Lanna's wariness. Ran became colder, harder as the days wore on since their return from Mathassi. Though she felt nothing more than grim determination from him, she believed him falling closer and closer to the precipice between the light and the dark.

Later, De-Lanna found Ascera in a high tree at the edge of the academy grounds. She joined her with a Force-assisted leap into the boughs. "What're you doing up here?" she asked, adding, "It'll be lunch soon." Ascera simply pointed below, to a clearing where Ran was dancing with a long-handled lightsaber. "Did he make that recently?" De-Lanna asked. The Twi'lek nodded.

The blue blade of Ran's lightsaber slashed through the foliage with lightning speed. He moved with catlike grace, his feet always in the right place and his body in perfect balance. Suddenly, a second blade slashed into the air, erupting from the other end of the long hilt. The double-bladed lightsaber spun in wild, yet still beautiful, arcs, slicing trees, branches, vines, and leaves with unerring precision.

The brown-haired Jedi sucked in a breath, awed by the display. "So he's learned the style," she murmured. "He must have continued reading the Sith holocron he took from Tauth."

She saw Ascera close her eyes, her face wrinkling in pain. "What's wrong?" De-Lanna asked gently, though she already knew the answer.

"It's Ran. He's so confused now. Damn fool, he just had to listen to Tauth, didn't he? And now this—he's built a lightsaber that is truly a weapon of war." She rubbed her eyes and sniffed. "He was so proud of his old one, too. He had wild time getting the crystals he needed for it, I remember." She sounded wistful and nostalgic…and as if she were mourning the death of a friend.

De-Lanna saw another side of the normally composed, regal Twi'lek. She saw deep, genuine concern, a deep and abiding familial love, and sorrow at the thought of losing her closest companion. No longer did Ascera seem an aloof statue to her, but a person with complexities she only began to realize. Impulsively, De-Lanna took Ascera's hand in her own and gave it a comforting squeeze. The Twi'lek returned it, gladly.

"You know, I actually wanted to talk to you about him," De-Lanna admitted, with a slight blush.

Ascera looked at her in surprise. She must have noticed the coloring, for she said, "Don't tell me you're actually starting to like him."

De-Lanna's blush stole to the roots of her hair. "Nothing of the sort!" she assured her. "Its just…I'm suddenly afraid of him, of what he's becoming. And Master Skywalker told me about your bond with him, and how you may turn to the dark side, should Ran do so."

"It's a valid fear, and one I myself have entertained with dread. But Ran's always been stubborn when he thinks he's in the right. His instincts usually serve him well on such matters, but this…."

They were silent for a time, simply watching Ran below, cutting through nature like a whirlwind. Then De-Lanna said, "You know, I didn't really like you at first, Ascera. I thought you were so high-and-mighty, always trying to put yourself above the rest of us. I wondered how Ran could stand you at times."

The Twi'lek chuckled. "You know, I thought the same about you. Always stuck-up and arrogant because of your Nexus technique and all the other skills you've developed. I admit, I'm a little bit jealous of your command of the Force. You're very strong. I also wondered how Ran could stand you."

The two Jedi shared a laugh. "I guess this means we're friends now, huh?" Ascera said wonderingly.

"I suppose so. And friends are supposed to take care of their friends' friends." The brown-haired Jedi looked down at Ran meaningfully. "He won't listen to us, you know that."

Ascera shrugged. "He's always been like that. He insists on learning by doing, even—no, especially—if someone's already gone through it."

"We won't let him fall, Ascera. Ever."


The alarm rang loudly, cutting through the silence of night like a dread axe. De-Lanna sprang awake in her bunk, hitting her head against the bed above. She swore softly, rubbing her offended forehead. Her roommate, a diminutive Chadra-Fan named Ekra, dropped from her bedding to the floor. "What's going on?" she asked, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

The brown-haired Jedi threw aside her blankets and haphazardly donned her clothes. "Security alarm," she announced, stating the obvious. "Come on, let's go check it out." Lightsabers in hand, the two females sprinted out of their room and into the hallway, where other bunkmates had gathered. All were heading out into the courtyard, where the alarms were loudest. De-Lanna skidded to a stop as soon as she stepped into the moonlight.

Beneath the stars, shrouded in night's cool darkness, four figures danced. All wore dark cloaks, three black, one blue. Three wielded blazing red blades, the fourth two blue ones. Ran was fighting the dark Jedi alone.

"Damn, that one really is an idiot!" De-Lanna grunted, igniting her own white blade, a stark contrast to the darkness. She charged forth, coming to the aid of her fellow Jedi. Her blade blocked Quid Carm's lightsaber, just barely stopping it from taking Ran's head.

"What are you doing here?" Ran snarled, busily spinning his newly constructed lightsaber in a hard arc, batting away Leena's vicious barrage.

"Saving you from your own stupidity!" she answered back. Marcus Tauth slashed for her head, a blow she easily ducked. Her riposte was parried by his reverse backhand.

Ran's eyes blazed with green fire in the starlight and lightsaber glow. "I have it under control." He slammed down the Rodian's stab. "I cut off one hand, ugly," he said to the dark warrior, "do you want me to take the other?" He followed his words with a head-butt, knocking the Rodian to the ground.

But the move cost him. Tauth, with a wild laugh, slashed fast and hard, his red weapon striking the green-eyed Jedi across the cheek. Ran cried out and fell back, just barely regaining his composure in time to deflect a side attack from Leena.

"Carm!" Tauth yelled suddenly, "Take a ship, and hurry! The other Jedi come." The Rodian stood and, with Force-assisted speed, sprinted off, heading for the landing pads. De-Lanna swore. She did not want to abandon Ran against the likes of Tauth and Leena, but had little choice. Carm was obviously trying to acquire an escape transport.

De-Lanna let the Force flow into her, envisioning a one-in-a-million event: Carm tripping over his own feet. The swirling threads of fate suddenly became fixed, frigid, held by her will alone. The Nexus she possessed became manifest, and Carm fell with a grunt. De-Lanna, panting from her mental exertion, pushed her body further, running up to the dark warrior just as he was regaining his feet.

She fell on him with a fierce lightsaber assault. He barely raised his blade in time to block. He was clearly the better fighter: more experienced, faster, stronger. But he was at a great disadvantage, since Ran had cut off his sword-hand on Mathassi. Fighting with his off-hand, without another hand for balance, the Rodian struggled to keep up his defense. De-Lanna knew that she just had to wait for an opening, and victory would be hers.

And then the lightning struck her back. Fire erupted up her spring, smoke filled her nostrils. She gagged at the stench of her own burning flesh. With an agonized cry, she dropped to her knees, fighting back tears. Tauth had abandoned his battle with Ran to launch his lightning. Carm only had to bring his lightsaber to bear to end De-Lanna's life. She waited for the coming blow.

But Carm had spared her, instead running toward the ships on the landing pad. By the time her muscles had ceased their debilitating spasms, the Rodian was already in the air, sailing back with the landing ramp half-down. She saw Leena leap into the air, her feet lightly touching the ramp. She saw Ran make a last slash at Tauth as the old man joined his apprentices on the stolen vessel, but the green-eyed Jedi cut only black cloth. The ship flew higher and higher, disappearing amongst the stars.

De-Lanna let out a sigh, feeling failure seep into her bones. She had him, had Carm under her blade, but she grew careless and left herself open to a stab in the back. Strong hands touched her shoulders, helped her stand up.

"Are you all right?" Ran asked. There was no witty quip waiting on his tongue, no carefree childishness in his green eyes. There was only genuine concern…and an alien grimness that sent a shock into her spine.

"I'm all right," she answered, clearing her throat and swallowing to wet her suddenly dry throat. She looked again into those eyes, and found the barrenness instantly replaced by a familiar, boyish glint.

"That's good," he said. "You know, I've always wanted to save a damsel in distress."

She reflexively elbowed him in the stomach. He doubled over. "Excuse me, but you didn't save me from anything. I got electrocuted, after all."

"Don't I get partial credit for trying?"

She only glared at him. "What in the Core Worlds were you doing, anyway?" she demanded sternly, one hand on her hip. "Fighting three dark Jedi like that is nothing short of suicide!"

To his credit, he affected a sheepish expression, throwing his arms behind his head the way he always did. "I was just coming back from some late-night training in the jungle," he explained, "when I sensed that Tauth was up to something. I went over to the pens to investigate."

"Odd," the brown-eyed Jedi noted, "I didn't feel anything. From the looks of it, no one else did either, not even the Masters, or else they would've been out here before everyone else."

Ran just shrugged. "I wouldn't know about any of that. I'm telling you, I sensed it. And I was right. Tauth apparently broke past the neural disrupter on his neck, dominated the minds of the guards watching over his cell, and had them bring him their lightsabers. I arrived just as Tauth killed the guards and freed his apprentices. That's when I started fighting them. I tripped the alarm as soon as I could."

"Ascera isn't going to be happy with you," De-Lanna observed. "I don't know what antics you got into with her, but this has got to be the top of them all."

Ran only smiled winsomely. "You're probably right. Say, you seem to know me pretty well all of a sudden. Guess I must be making an impression on you, eh?"

He strode up closer to her, uncomfortably so. It was the first time it really registered in her mind just how tall he was; her head barely reached his chest. The closeness made her blush fiercely and she was suddenly glad that the night hid her reaction. "Impression this, you nerf-herder," she growled, stomping on his foot and striding off in an indignant huff. She heard a pained chuckle behind her, encouraging her to walk faster—anything to get away from the infuriating Ran Tonno-Skeve.

The debacle over, the Jedi students returned to their bunks, though the Masters and Jedi Knights maintained patrols throughout the night, just in case their enemies decided to return. De-Lanna slept restlessly, her dreams a mixed whirlwind of emotions and images. Quid Carm's fearsome visage, the scorching pain of lightning, the cold snows of Mathassi, the poisonous sensation of the dark side, Ran's lips upon hers, Ran's hands upon her shoulders, his warm body near hers, the eerily pleasant feeling of temptation.

When she awoke, she was very grouchy indeed.

The computer sitting on her desk blinked, indicating that a message had recently come in. She slipped out of the comfort of her bed, her bare legs suddenly very aware of the chill of the stone floor. Her fingers danced across the keyboard, and the monitor turned on. Master Skywalker's face appeared.

"De-Lanna, forgive me for intruding on your morning routines, but I must speak with you in my office later in the morning. I expect that you will be prompt." The message ended. She sighed and stretched, immediately regretting it. Tight muscles and Force-healed flesh screamed in protest; her back had not yet fully recovered from the night's trials.

But she steadfastly donned her leathers, girded her lightsaber, and walked to Master Skywalker's office. She found Ascera and Ran standing by the doors. "Good morning," she greeted in a subdued voice, taking the opportunity to give the green-eyed Jedi a scathing glance. He only smirked innocently.

"Good morning," Ascera said in her typically aloof way. Though they had shared a moment of bonding, De-Lanna suspected that the Twi'lek wanted to reserve her full trust for those she knew were worthy of it. The brown-haired Jedi did not mind; she would do the same thing in her place. "Master Skywalker seems to want to talk to us about Mathassi."

"What makes you say that?" De-Lanna inquired, though she, too, had come to the same conclusion.

"It's the only reason why he'd call the three of us in particular," Ascera reasoned. "After all, I wasn't involved in last night's attack, so I wouldn't have been called if that was what he wanted to talk about."

The door opened and Master Skywalker showed them in. They sat at his desk, upon which lay several of the holocrons liberated from the Mathassi Jedi Temple.

"Master," Ascera asked, being unusually forward, "please forgive my boldness, but have you learned anything of import from those holocrons?" De-Lanna hid back a smile; she had noticed that for all of her Jedi calm, Ascera become little more than giddy schoolgirl at the very thought of learning more about the romantic Jedi heroes of the Old Republic.

Master Skywalker apparently held the same observations, for he said kindly, "Nothing of the great Vodo-Siosk Baas, or the equally respected Qel-Droma brothers, or Nomi Sunrider, I'm afraid. However, there were, among other things, healing techniques stored on the holocrons. A student of mine, a Mon Cal named Cilghal, seems to show particular affinity in the healing arts. She will benefit greatly from the knowledge in these holocrons."

He clasped his hands and laid them on the desk. "Firstly, I'd like to thank the three of you for braving the unknown regions of space to bring these to me. We are still deciphering the older texts, but as with the documents on healing, we have already discerned several useful accounts and teaching aides. You have done well."

De-Lanna swelled with pride, and she saw Ran and, to a subtler degree, Ascera, do the same.

Master Skywalker grew stern. "But last night's events have brought things into a new light. The Force is growing darker as Tauth and his apprentices continue to hatch their dark plans. You told me that they had gone to Mathassi to learn from the Sith Lord imprisoned there, following directions encrypted on an ancient Sith holocron. I can only surmise that they have returned there to complete the deed."

"And we must stop them," De-Lanna reasoned. "But if they've already gone back, they had almost half a day on us. None of our ships are any faster than the one they stole, not in hyperspace."

"Speed will not be an issue," the Jedi Master assured her. "Last night, I asked a friend of mine, the crime lord Talon Karrde, to loan me a transport ship fast enough to overtake any ship in hyperspace. He will arrive within the hour. You have that time to pack your things."