a/n Are there any reviewers out there? Comments good or bad are appreciated. Make sure to check out the credits at the bottom. We have reached the end of PartI. Part II shall commence on March 5th.

Post 6

Tatooine- Anchorhead

The messenger boy sprinted through the streets of Anchorhead kicking up dust as he ran toward the NREMAT complex. For the doctors and nurses it had been another slow morning, dealing with vaccinating a group of young children against the Galaxy's most common ailments. When he came rushing by them, it was clear that something had happened. In anticipation they observed his course into the central building, and not wholly unexpectedly watched Dr. Keladry Stanton rush out. Immediately she began spitting out orders.

"There's been a Tusken Raider attack just outside Mos Eisley. Some of the second NREMAT team is on the scene, but they need help. Command said they need the mass crisis team, so Romani, Rantic and Akil meet Nestor at the bay in two minutes. Syla, Medel, and Genai pair up with them, just in case they need more hands. "

Fifteen minutes later they were landing on the far side of Mos Eisely, and Nestor could see from the view port just how bad the damage was.

Someone swore beside him. "Was that a wedding? Svali godai tub."Shocked, Nestor looked up to see Syla peering intently out the window.

"A wedding or some sort of celebration. How many do you think were there? Fifty, a hundred?" He kept his voice soft, respectful and brought Selanoredown for a quick landing. Punching the comm, he pulled out of his restraints and followed Syla towards the ramp where the other five passengers were already descending with supplies.

Hefting one of the larger boxes filled with sterile equipment, he took three strides down the ramp almost bumping into an official running towards him. "Alluvia, we need to transport the more serious cases to the hospital at Anchorhead and Bestine. I'm sending Dr.Gile with you. Come, we'll need your muscles."

Another ten minutes had flown by and Nestor was up in the air again flying back towards Anchorhead. For the rest of the day he flew in a triangle, depositing patients, and picking up supplies. By the end of the second trip he was sweating in concentration, trying to keep the trip as smooth as possible.

The situation on the ground was another matter, and Tristan working with Syla watched two elderly victims die, while two children left with just quick bleeding flesh wounds. He had long since deposited his coverings and his light white tunic was stained with splashes of red, as he leaned over to clot an arterial bleed. "Does anyone know why they attacked." He held out his hand for a suture kit and some more gauze.

Slapping them into her hand, she shook her head. "No," She checked the instrument panel, "She's leveling out. Stable, although her heart rate is just a smidgen above normal."

Tristan ran his hand across his forehead leaving a smear of blood. "All right, send her over with the next load. He looked over his shoulder, ignoring the thrill of adrenaline surging through him, despite the intense heat. "Who's next? " He turned to his nurse and grimaced. "We're lucky the wind is down or we would be dealing with infections tomorrow." Someone from the other team brought a teenage boy before him, carrying him in a blanket while he cradled his shoulder. He was the first conscious victim Tristan had seen in four hours. He looked down at the boy, hiding his relief that perhaps the worst was over.

"Hello, my name is Dr. Romani. I'm going to try and help you. Can you tell me where it hurts?"

xxx

Nestor brought the ship down at Bestine, shut off the comm, and made his way to the hold. With the help of the gray haired doctor that had been monitoring the patients, successfully unloaded his eight patients before closing the ramp. Taking off for a mere thirty seconds, he softly maneuvered the Selanoreinside the circular docking bay where he could see three tiny beings waiting to begin the refueling process.

He flipped open his comm and contacted the main base. "This is Alluvia, I just unloaded but I'm doing a quick refueling. ETA is going to be + 10 minutes. "

"That's fine, the critical have all been transported. I think we'll be done when you get back. " Nestor signed off and tapped the elderly doctor on the shoulder, who was attempting, for the large part, to set up for the next load.

He pointed to the off ramp, relayed the message about possibly not having any more loads, and then added, "We're doing a quick refueling, and I am going to go check for packages while we wait. "

The doctor nodded, and Nestor made his way down the ramp, turning towards the docking bay's receiving area. Behind the window was an old X-10 droid, who was a combination of protocol and service. He leaned casually leaned on the counter and muttered. "Mail for NREMAT-Anchorhead."

The droid, whistled and beeped before, with his multiple arms, retrieving a box with labeled holodiscs. Nestor checked his watch, three minutes to go, and began the quick trip back towards the waiting ship. A hundred yards away, the corridor he was in branched off to the bay next door, and as he passed it he heard a familiar voice. Pausing midstep he contemplated his options, his curiosity overtaking his caution. While he was sure he had heard it at least once before, he couldn't place the where or the when.

Checking the time again he jogged a few steps past the office glancing into the small room about 20 feet down. A shipping-transport office, it was currently occupied by an aged Toydiarian, Rodian and a human male smoking a cigar. He didn't recognize any of the three, and while the voice of the human still tickled a memory, it wasn't worth asking about. Shrugging, he jogged back towards his ship, reaching it as the pumps were being unplugged.

Securing the on ramp, he made sure the doctor was restrained behind him before tossing the box of mail into the co-pilot seat. Then, with the ease and elegance of a bird in the wild, he guided his ship quickly back over the 200 kilometers to Mos Eisley.

xxxxx

Tristan's entire body ached when the Selanore finally landed back at Anchorhead. As the team stumbled down the ramp, someone pushed a skein of water into his hand, and he stood still, gulping down the liquid, taking the time to drink his fill. It was still light out, and some of the victims of the attack were fighting for their lives, but the NREMAT team had fulfilled its purpose, and the med centers, while not state-of-the-art, were adequate to the task. He passed the skein to Dr. Akil, who shook his head after tapping the self-serving tank which allowed him to survive on a desert planet. Instead it was quickly grasped by Syla who gratefully placed its cool exterior to her forehead. Glancing back for Nestor, Tristan spotted him coming down the ramp with a small box.

"What is that?" He asked, noticing the slight look of guilt on Nestor's face. Inwardly Tristan grimaced, knowing that Nestor still bore some guilt for the mishap three weeks ago.

Covering quickly, Nestor looked at him, his lips turning up in a grin. "Mail, it was with our shipments on that last turn through the capital. I picked it up while I was being refueled."

"That'll make everyone happy." That was an understatement. Long distance holocomm's cost a fortune to send from anywhere on Tatooine, so when the mail finally made its way through NREMAT HQ and found its way to the subsidiary planets it was often long overdue. Shrugging, Tristan wandered off to go get cleaned up, ignoring the slight stab of jealousy he was feeling. Why in sith would I care if I didn't get any mail? Day-to-Day things had been easier for him of late, if one did not count the infrequent dreams he had of killing Iker Rafagr. Are those the only dreams you're having? Tristan ignored the taunting voice, and released a breath of air. Overall he had been getting more sleep, and actually admitted that he was happier than he had been for a long time. The night before he had actually contemplated that he had, perhaps, left the past behind him.

Unfortunately, the tinge of jealousy coupled with the dreams said otherwise.

It was late when he stepped out of the fresher, but he finally felt comfortable again. Most of the sand had been removed, and there was a vague sense of joy at being clean. He was buckling the belt to his tunic, running his finger through his rough dark hair trying to dry it, when a sharp knock caught his attention.

For a moment he hesitated, listening to see if anyone else was in the dwelling, but no other being moved in the stillness. After a moment the knocking persisted and he quickly jogged, his bare feet slapping on the sandstone floor, to open the door. He had cracked it no more than an inch, when it was forced open by uncommon strength. For a instant he struggled to regain his balance in the din before he looked up trying to catch his first glimpse of his visitor. In a rather uncharacteristic manner, the petite form of his Thyferran colleague, her black hair disheveled, had burst almost angrily into the dwelling, and had, just as quickly slammed it shut, securing the latch.

It was only then, after she had leaned her head against the door with the appearance of relief that he reached for her shoulder.

It had barely made contact, when, with a flailing of apprehension she turned to look at him. There was a rush of fear at her panic stricken expression.

"Doctor Stanton."

Her voice breathy and high, her eyes darting around the room. None to gently, she pushed past him through the kitchen and into the hallway. "Where's Nestor?"

"Last I saw he was distributing the mail-"

"Yes, the mail, the mail." She spoke inwardly, to herself. Her right hand was clutching something in a death grip, while her left hand lay limp at her side. Tristan looked at her fist. Open. Close. Open. Close. Open.

"Doctor Stanton?" His voice was cautious, not wanting to startle her any more than was necessary. He followed her into the dining area, "Sit down." He jogged back to the cooling unit and stared- What had she been drinking that day? Remembering he pulled out a container of blue milk and poured it into a glass.

When he reentered the dining area, she was standing frozen in place while her lips moved as if in prayer. "Doctor Stanton?" Placing the glass on the table, he pulled out a chair and slowly lowered his hands towards her shoulder. For the barest of moments he hesitated, hovering centimeters above touching her, worried about the reaction. "I'm going to help you sit down." Softly, barely applying any pressure, he led her to the chair, pushing down in a silent urge to have her sit. She complied, though he could now tell that fear was radiating off of her.

Tristan sat next to her. "Doctor..." He paused, knowing after three repetitions of her name that he wasn't going to capture her attention. "Keladry," Her head snapped towards him. "How can I help?"

Silent, her hazel eyes, now darker and wider, she held out the palm of her right hand, in which she held a black flimsy, backed by a heavier board.

Tristan knew what it was before he caught a clear glimpse. Gently, he took her wrist in his and pried the piece of mail from her hands. It was like ice.

"Did you walk over here without a coat Keladry?" Her attention had reverted to the note, and she stared at it, a soft whimper escaping her chattering lips. Moving for a moment, Tristan grabbed a blanket from his room and draped it over her shoulders. Settling back into his seat he looked at the card, trying not to show his distaste and disgust.

He had seen a card like this once before, on Thyferra and had briefly talked to Nestor about its existence. Here it was again, but unlike the first one, which was largely an expression of love, this one was obviously of hate.

The flimsy had a brief message scrawled across it, and as with the other message there was a tiny holo of Keladry, this afternoon sitting in the communications hut at the NREMAT complex. She was looking straight ahead, and smiling.

Don't worry, when I'm done there won't ever be a smile on your face again. I will always be here. Don't run again.

He exhaled, and looked at the woman before him taking in her clearly altered state. There is so much evil out there, with one letter he has destroyed her happiness, taken away her freedom.

Much like Iker...He quickly banished the thought, bringing his focus back to the woman before him.

"Keladry..." She snapped out of it as if seeing him for the first time.

"Tristan?" She looked around, clearly trying to watch the door. "How…How did I get here."

He leaned forward in his seat and grasped her hand, right in right. "You walked, without a coat." Gently he held out his left hand and she unthinkingly placed it in his left. Slowly he began to rub them, trying to work some blood into the system.

"Can we go somewhere...where I can watch the door?" The tone of her voice was back, that lilting breathy sound.

Tristan looked around and then pulled her gently to his room, leaving the door open for propriety's sake, and sat in his desk chair. While his back was turned she had scooted to the corner, wrapping the blanket around her, eyes still wide but a little more focused.

"He found me Tristan."

He nodded, "I know. "

"He's never going to leave me alone." She shuddered. "I..I…"

Tristan found her name flowing from his lips with much more ease than he expected. "Keladry, if I can help, we will protect you. You're not alone."

"I'm not?" The question was odd, as if it had been spoken at the edge of a cliff before a long fall…and then she began to sob, heaving, shaking. Tristan found himself leaping to the bed to hold her, knowing that she needed tactile evidence that she wasn't alone, but on some level, and he knew it was ludicrous, he felt as if he was betraying Elbereth by holding another woman in his arms.

"Shhh, Shh." He didn't pay attention to how long she cried, but he knew that both Dr. Rantic and Raoul had looked in at the noise, leaving quickly when Tristan had shook his head quietly. When Nestor came bounding in, his face carrying his own expression of excited bewilderment and satisfaction he stopped him and pointed to the kitchen table, mouthing, "Today, in the mail." Returning quickly, Nestor was stone faced and calculating-much how he had been during the initial revolution against Bran.

He sat in the desk chair and watched the floor, thinking-Tristan could almost see his synapses functioning-until Keladry grew quiet. Tristan slowly drew away, thinking she was asleep, having exhausted herself, but instead she whispered hoarsely.

"You aren't really cousins are you?" Surprised Tristan and Nestor's eyes met, before looking at her now up turned face, leaning against Tristan's chest. It was a guarded look, one drained of emotion, but it was clear the question she posed was not a figment of madness. "I need to know, I need to trust...," Her voice broke, then grew stronger. "I need honesty."

Tristan looked at Nestor, who carefully, closed the door halfway-making sure that no one was in the hall.

Nestor spoke cautiously, "It is your story to tell, your highness." It was the first time that Nestor had uttered his title in months, but it was his way of showing deference to the situation.

Tristan hesitated, then spoke softly, pulling Keladry up so that she sat without his support, but when he tried to stand and put some distance between them, she wouldn't let go. "My name is Tristan Romani, the only living heir to the Romani's of Valdet, a planet in the outer rim. Until recently, I was the Royal ruler, with my wife Elbereth Morodin of the dual planetary system where her world, Danshitie, and mine are located."

He released a breath, "Nestor Alluvia and I are not cousins. He is my bodyguard, my sanity, but above all else, he is my friend." He looked at Nestor, his gaze steady, repeating for his benefit as much as hers, "No, not cousins."

There was a momentary silence, and then the security and investigative side of Nestor appeared. "Do you know how he found you?"

Keladry started to shake her head no, but as if it had just occurred to her, she pulled out another disc. Hesitating, "My friend, Natir, wrote to me of a man who came to visit her with urgent paperwork regarding my mother. " Now it was her turn to grow silent. "She's in a long-term care facility on Mon Calamari. In Stasis."

Tristan and Nestor looked at each other before looking back at Keladry. Each was calculating the implication of Keladry's mother being in danger, something had not registered yet with the pretty doctor. Tristan prodded, "What else does she say?"

"That…that she gave him my information so that they could help my mother more quickly. She told me she thought that I should contact the hospital, because the man seemed unstable, and unreliable."

"Descriptions? "

Keladry withdrew deeper into the covers, still clinging to Tristan. "No." Another sob broke out and she suppressed it, looking at the bed spread in an attempt to calm down. She was quiet, and then slowly…slowly…her head drooped, and her breathing evened as she fell asleep.

It was only then that Tristan was able to remove her from his side, placing the blanket over her.

Together, the other two occupants moved outside the room. As Nestor attempted to close the door Tristan shook his head. "She needs to be able to see us if she awakes." The bodyguard nodded.

Their tones remained hushed, "We need to make sure she is protected, but we need to make sure nothing changes."

"We can't keep something like this a secret." Tristan was practical.

"We should tell the main staff, but no one else. We need eyes, lots of eyes."

"I was unconscious in Thyferra for weeks, you should try and stay in town, see if you recognize anyone,"

Nestor hesitated, and suddenly Tristan remembered the pilot's excitement when he had walked into his room.

Tristan placed a hand on his forearm, "What?"

"I may have found us a lead." Nestor's eyes met his, watching as Tristan took in his meaning.

"Iker?" His voice was disbelieving, almost ambivalent.

"Iker." Carefully, Nestor elaborated on the events at Bestine, how he recognized the voice but couldn't place it. "It was the cigar that reminded me. I swear that he may be the man who transported Iker to Thyferra."

Tristan looked to the open door, the white hot anger surging to the top of his emotions. His eyes narrowed. Two roads lay open for him, two options. He had to choose.

Finally he sought Nestor's gaze, "We can't leave Tatooine until she's taken care of. " With great care, he struggled to control his feelings, "You need to leave early in the morning. Tell me what security plans you have, and I'll implement them, but you get to Bestine and hope he hasn't left yet."

Nestor nodded, not really concealing his surprise. "And you, Doctor?"

"I'll make sure she's safe. " Now is not the time. Tristan took a deep breath, halfheartedly, worriedly trying to push down the flash of anger that always accompanied a discussion of Iker Rafagr.

xxxx

It was late the next evening when Tristan found himself fidgeting as Nestor settled Selanore to the ground, a smaller transport next to him. Moments later the clump of Nestor's boots were heard as the well-oiled ramp opened. Twenty-four hours ago, Twenty-four hours ago Tristan had been content, able to recognize the impossibility of finding Iker in a galaxy filled with star systems, humans, non-humans, sentiants and non-sentiants….

Now, it was all back, a regression-his single minded adrenaline urge to kill.

Rather, to kill Iker Rafgr. Tristan felt the hypocrisy, that as a doctor he had a mandate to protect life, but he couldn't help but feel, deep within his soul that this was right.

This time was different. No injuries, no residual pain, no self-denial for medical aid, this time he would not lose sight of the moral path. This time was different.

His quick gray eyes darted across Nestor's face, but as usual it was emotionless, fearless, an embodiment of strength. Tristan opened his mouth and winced inwardly as he spoke. "Well?" The query sounded harsh, even to his own ears.

Nestor turned back towards the smaller ship, as if waiting for someone, and within moments a broad shouldered being smoking a cigar ambled down the open ramp. For the first time, Tristan caught a glimpse of the man who had transported Iker across the galaxy. Had he known what the man's crimes, would he have still transported him? Of course, look at him, he's a smuggler.

Nestor kept his voice quiet, deferential. "Sir, this is Lambinth Popast. He is the being who transported our friend to Thyferra." Tristan's eyes darted from the newcomer's face back to Nestor's, picking up on the slight alteration to truth.

Again he repeated himself, "Well?"

Then smuggler grunted, casually puffed on the small stub of his cigar, the ring of glowing embers lighting up the corners of his thin mouth. He sniffed, shrugged and then tossed the remains to the ground before hitching to his full height. "I did transport a gentleman to Thyferra from Valdet a couple of months ago." Almost like a psychic scar, Tristan felt his hart harden. This man's voice was one more reminder…

"I dropped him off at the main spaceport, expecting it to be the end of it. I probably wouldn't have remembered, except that he approached me again, asking to be dumped core-ward."

"Where?" This time there was no remorse.

The man's eyes flickered towards Nestor then back to Tristan weighing his words. "I'm not sure if I can recall…"

Nestor took a step towards the man, "Do we need to discuss this again?" For a moment, the smuggler appeared unfazed, and then his pupils widened, and Tristan saw the glint of Nestor's blaster. "I told him my next pick up was on near Borealis, so he said I could drop him off on Coruscant, but he could be anywhere by now."

Tristan was not to be dismayed. "There's more."

"I..I think he said something about Mon Calamari, or Cordu-ji. I..I'm not sure. He spent a lot of his time looking over navigation maps, almost as if he was trying to identify specific location."

The man looked warily at the blaster, "He used the name Reef Niln."

Tristan glanced at Nestor whose jaw had hardened. He kept his words gracious, dampening down the adrenaline. Why would Iker change his name? Tristan felt a surge of bitterness. At least it is something to work with, even though it'll just be one more dead end. "Thank you." Waiting until the man ducked into his own ship, Tristan turned to Nestor. "We're under contract with NREMAT, and we need the money." His voice was flat.

Nestor looked at the burning fire within Tristan's eyes, recognizing the sense of déjà vu from their departure from Valdet. There was more control, more violence. He listened with chagrin, as Tristan's face grew harder. "Iker Rafagr, will meet his destiny, or else."

xxx

Naturally, I went with them. Distraught as I was, the NREMAT director on Tatooine could not allow me to remain on staff, especially with the danger posed to myself, promising to keep their wary eyes to strangers.

But my fear was, what if he wasn't a stranger?

How could I know?

The flexibility with NREMAT's operations was ideal, I was able to transfer to the Mon Calamari research team, to be closer to my mother, recognizing the danger that both Tristan and Nestor had sensed.

I think I will be forever indebted to their help that night…I had run away from Thyferra to protect my friends, to protect my loved one's-not realizing that they were the ones who had kept me sane, kept me grounded.

Nestor and Tristan had orders to pick up medical equipment only available on Mon Cal so as to provide further aid to victims of the Empress Teta disaster, and so they found themselves ideally placed for continued research on this specter that they hunted.

In the months to follow, I found myself worried for them, uncertain of the resurgence of determination in Tristan's eyes, unsure of our futures. We had both forged a connection, and while it would be almost four months before we met again, we both knew that it could only grow stronger.

While our worlds fell apart, we would grasp for concrete hope that life would continue…

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Yavin IV

Mara Jade could shut down her ship with her eyes closed and both arms tied behind her back. Yet, she took her time maneuvering the ship on the landing pad next to the Great Temple, and then with due deference, painstakingly walked through the cool down cycle before moving towards the back of the ship. Pacing, she stood for a moment looking to the right down the hallway to the rest of the ship, and then to the off ramp where she knew she would finally have to think about the events that had transpired on Valdet.

Letting out a groan of frustration she made her way through to her bunk and as she leaned over to grab the pack on the bed she spotted the Ewok doll that Wes Janson had left for her after her stint with Wraith squadron. A memory of his polka-dotted face flittered across her mind, and her worries momentarily receded to the background. Janson's Revenge…

"Trying to come up with an appropriate form of retribution?" She was across the room and into his arms before half the sentence was out his mouth, and she could feel Luke's surprise at this almost unnatural display of affection. Mara didn't care, she could take whatever came her way, whatever the Force threw at her, and as long as Luke was around she knew that she did not fear loneliness. Wait a second…

"Luke, how did you get on board? The new security features I installed make it impossible for anyone to…" She stopped as his blue eyes twinkled mirthfully at her indignation.

"I only learn from the best." Before she could say anything else Luke silenced her with a soft kiss on the lips. "Mara, welcome back."

She kissed him back, taking in his scent, before slipping out of the embrace to grab her bag. As she brushed past him, and he tried to grab the bag from her, Mara shot him an amused look, "I didn't know you cared Luke Skywalker." Shut down the ship, please? His confusion was evident as she pulled the bag close and continued of the ship without another word.

Minutes later, after the interior lights on the ship had been shut down, Mara was standing paces away, once again retreating back into her thoughts.

Mara…

Slowly she turned and saw him, standing in the doorway to the off ramp, leaning on his eyes confused that along with the innocent farm boy look made her heart melt. His voice carried far into the night, his tone exhibiting a remnant of his youth. "Mara, I do care."

Tossing her head back she laughed aware that she was acting awkward, and a bit self-consciously. Without ceremony she dumped her bag on the ground unclipping her light saber from her waist. "Well come on then, I've been on that ship far too long, I need a little bit of exercise."

He grinned, jogged down the ramp until he was directly in front of her, holding his lightsaber deceptively loose in his palm. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Though the next few moments seemed to stretch for eternity, the two Jedi were cognizant of its limits, waiting for the other to attack. They were aware of the soft breeze, pricking across bare skin signaling the start of the night cycle.

In the end it was Luke who made the first move, attempting to push his wife off guard by swinging high but changing directions midway, and in the hastening twilight the new light creating an ephemeral glow, creating an almost macabre image of each other. Blue on Green sizzled upon impact, and Mara Jade Skywalker lost all conscious contact with the duel, slipping smoothly into a sublime zone where the Force dictated her movements.

Mara knew she was stalling; she had been struggling to come to terms with the events in the cave the entire trip back to Yavin. Restless meditation, sleepless nights had all been useless, leaving her just as tired as she had been when she left Valdet. Her mind was churning with urgency, as if she were racing the Boonta Eve Classic with her eyes closed.

Was she really afraid of being alone? Or was there some deeper meaning in the Force's message? What was the crucial piece that she was missing?

Left, Right…step back, flip. She was on the defensive, speeding her moves, but as an automaton not really recognizing her actions, just reacting. Her eyes were narrow slits, brow furrowed in concentration existing within her own, self-constructed world.

Forward, back.

Forward, back.

Forward, back. Dusk now past, they moved within the same area of space, locked in an even struggle, neither tiring, and Luke was determined to stick it out. He knew she was working on some problem, he recognized that for some meditation was not always the answer.

Inside, in her mind, Mara was stuck, with no room to maneuver. What am I not seeing? She replayed the vision, hearing the mocking words: Survivor, Survivor, Survivor, seeing the images from Mt. Tantiss and the Outbound Flight project….All events connected with her past, her Imperial past. At Mt. Tantiss she had severed her connection to her former life, but she was still Mara Jade, former Emperor's Hand…independent, perhaps less isolated, but fiercely protective. Not moving forward, unable to ever move back.

Seeing Chak Fel and Vader's Fist had momentarily sucked her back into that middle ground where she wondered, albeit briefly, of what her place would be within a new Empire. Her mind raced, remembering what it was like those few years after the destruction of the second Death Star where she was without an identity, without the glamour, and smells and life that had belonged to her. It brought her back to that time, when she was a hyperdrive mechanic on Varonat struggling with the Emperor's last gift to his Hand. In Limbo… Not moving forward, unable to move back.

The events since she had met Luke had whittled away at her insular existence, stripping her of her shields showing her the path to finding her place, guiding her to this very moment….

Again, the voice asked:

What do you fear? Suddenly, for the first time, she could answer honestly….

I am afraid not of loneliness, but of being left behind, of waking up one day to find that the galaxy has continued on, never noticing my absence.

I am afraid that after having regained so much sense of self, true independence, that I will not find a place where my past does not represent only who I was then but also dictates who I am today.

She couldn't know, but with every epiphany, every self-realization, to Luke's chagrin, she pushed forward, her blows becoming tighter, stronger and more fluid.

I am afraid of never being able to move forward, of not accepting the gifts that I have been given, and being stuck again-in Limbo. Seeing the ruins of that palace, of a life destroyed suddenly, without notice…the Force was with me, speaking to me even then, showing me that there is a place where my past can no longer control my future. At some point, I have to look at the face staring out from the mirror and see myself.

Like in the cave, her other self, the ethereal voice questioned once more. And who are you?

Her lips turned up into a smirk, her eyes flashed open, glinting with knowledge as they reflected the rising stars above Yavin.

She was Mara Jade Skywalker, Jedi Master.

Stunned, Luke felt the surge of light side power, and found himself struggling to keep track of her speed, ducking as the blade swung towards his neck. Astonished he looked at his wife's face, and found…heaven. No longer an automaton he could tell that she was barely reacting to his actions, she was relying on pure instinct, on the Force sensing his moves before they even happened. She was that fast.

With each blow, Luke was aware of the silent dance that was taking them into all corners of the landing pad, he was aware of the rustle of breath, the ragged rhythm of his steps as he struggled to keep up. And in a simple parody of her fight with his clone on Mount Tantiss, he found himself against the wall of the Great Temple, but with a very different ending. Mid-swing, Mara stopped, extinguishing her blade before it did any damage, but kept her arm extended locked into position, etching the memory into her mind. With a ragged voice, trying to catch her breath, she whispered.

"Kill point." Silence followed as both Jedi recorded this moment, this time, this place.

In the glow of the torches whose flickering flames created an almost sacred alter, Luke extinguished his blade, and then slowly, with all the respect and deference he could muster, bowed. "Congratulations," he paused, channeling all his love through their bond, "Master."

xxxx

Later that night, lying in each others arms in their quarters Mara filled him in about the events on Valdet and then, with confidence, her experience in the cave. While they had shared their joy of her realization, Mara still felt like her experiences had another purpose to serve.

"Do you think it was a warning?" She whispered, eyes closed.

Maybe. His silent answer prodded her to open her eyes and for a moment they were silent lost within each other's presences. He kept his voice low and controlled. "Worry about what you can controlYour faith is in the Force, and thus…"

She finished for him, "…the rest will fall in place."

Her lips turned up into a reflective, sleepy smile. "I love you, Luke Skywalker"

Wiping a stray lock of hair from her face, he leaned over and kissed her lightly on her forehead, then, pulling her against his chest they fell asleep.

xxxxx

With the Crisis finally over, the return trip from Kessel to the Jedi academy was uneventful. The companions-Zekk, Jaina and Anja in the Lightening Rod, and Tenel Ka, Jacen , Lowie and Em Teedee aboard the Rock Dragon-spent the time exchanging stories of their adventures.

When they all arrived at the landing field on Yavin 4, with its lush jungle surrounding the spectacular ancient pyramids, Master Skywalker himself was there to welcome them back.

Wearing a mock-stern expression on his face, the Jedi Master looked around at the young Jedi Knights and Anja and Em Teedee. "I just received an enlightening message from a former student of mine on Mon Calamari, Ambassador Cilghal. I'm not sure I understand why the administration at Crystal Reef wants me, your aunt, Han and Leia to take an all expense-paid vacation there."

Luke pursed his lips and gave a slow bemused shake of his head. "And I got a glowing message a few minutes ago from Nien Nunb on Kessel. He thanked me repeatedly for allowing you to stay long enough to help him fix his transmitter…?"

He shook his head again, as if he could hardly believe what he had heard. "I thought I sent all of you out to find a friend who was in trouble—not to save the entire NewRepublic from a hostile financial takeover." The stern set of his lips softened into a proud smile. "I wonder if I'll ever stop being surprised by the things my students manage to accomplish when they work together."

The companions looked at each other, somewhat embarrassed.

"Anyway, now I have a surprise for you, the NewRepublic has decided to hold a celebration her in a few days-and its about time, after all the work you've done. I think you're all going to receive some long-overdue appreciation, after defeating the ShadowAcademy and thwarting the Diversity Alliance, and now Black Sun. Our first guests should be here by the evening meal. But before they start arriving, I'd like the chance to speak with each of you alone. We have some important issues to discuss about your future. All of you."

"Luke-Master Skywalker?" Anja spoke hesitantly. "If you wouldn't mind, sir, I'd like to be first."

The Jedi Master looked into her large eyes for a long moment and then nodded. "I see you've come a long way."

xxxx

On the day of the actual ceremony, in the midst of all the furor, the companions managed to steal away to the platform on the top of the GreatTemple and find some quiet time together. Anakin and Tahiri sat at one side of the platform, dangling their bare feet over the edge, while the fluffy creature Ikrit, their frequent companion, basked in the sun beside them.

At one corner of the platform, Raynar and the cinnamon-maned centaur girl, Lusa, sparred with stunsticks. Lowie, Em Teedee, Jaina, Zekk and Anja arranged themselves along another side of the platform to watch the busy landing field. Having just finished taking care of his menagerie of animals, Jacen now joined his friends, his fluffy blue pet gort riding on his shoulder. Tenel Ka, just finished with her morning's calisthenics, dashed up one of the staircases at the four corners of the GreatTemple to meet them.

When they were all together, Anja said, "I guess this is bout as good a time as any to say good-bye. I'll be laving after the ceremony."

"Why?" Jacen asked, sounding the slightest bit disappointed.

"Because I don't belong here," Anja said. "I've got to do something with my life, but being trained in the Force just isn't it."

"So, where are you going?" Zekk asked.

Anja shrugged. "I'm not sure, but I can't stay at the Jedi academy. I'm not a Jedi. But you all are-you belong together."

"We will not always be together, however," Tenel Ka said. Lowie woofed his agreement.

"Right," Jaina added. "We all just had that long talk with Uncle Luke. You know, the one that goes, 'Now that you're more or less a full Jedi, you have to think about what you want to do in life.'"

Sitting along their edge of the Great Temple, Anakin waved as Lando Calrissian made his way up the steep steps. Shielding his eyes for a moment, he elbowed Tahiri.

"Hey stupid."

"Yes?" Tahiri turned towards him, her blond curls swishing in the light.

"Wanna bet that Lando is going to offer Anja Gallandro a job?"

"What are we betting?"

Smirking, Anakin leaned over and whispered into her ear.

"No, way." Tahiri shook her head, "Never going to happen."

Anakin looked at his best friend. "You're scared that you'll lose."

The younger Jedi bit her lip, then sighed, "Fine, I'm in, but if you lose, your punishment is going to be ten times worse."

Both of them watched as Lando and Anja began walking towards them, catching Anja's last few words…"If you're really interested in giving people a chance to reform, I know this guy named Lilmit. I think he could really use a job, too…"

Tahiri turned to Anakin, with a horrified expression on her face…"Please, no shoes…don't make me wear shoes…pretty please?" His presence was light, laughing, and as she sensed something peculiar in Anakin's force presence, her lips turned into a frown. "You knew! Anakin Solo, no fair! I'll get you for this!" Their laughter carried over to the larger group, where Tenel Ka glanced back to see what the noise was before approaching Anakin's brother.

"Jacen, my friend? Would now be an appropriate time to ask about the item you intended to give me?"

"Sure, I brought it with me," Jacen said, reaching into the pocket of his rumpled brown jumpsuit. He held the object out to her. Irregular shards of translucent pearly pink dangled from a knotted cord of fine leather. "It's a necklace," he explained unnecessarily. "I made it from the shards of Nicta's gort egg. Many cultures consider it to be very precious-the egg, I mean." The gort sat angelically on his shoulder.

Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but Jacen could have sworn that some sort of liquid shimmered in Tenel Ka's gray eyes when she said, "it is beautiful, Jacen, my friend. Would you please assist me in putting it on?"

Jacen reached both arms beneath her red-gold warrior braids to tie the thong at the back of her neck.

Before he could finish, Tenel Ka pulled him in a strong embrace and said, "I will treasure your gift more than all the rainbow gems of Gallinore."

Zekk put an arm around Jaina. "I don't have a necklace for you, but you can be my copilot-or my pilot-anytime you want."

Resting her head on his shoulder, Jaina chuckled. "Don't think I wont' take you up on that. Besides, necklaces aren't exactly my style."

Lowie looked thoughtfully, longingly up at the sky. He rumbled a mellow comment. "Indeed?" Em Teedee replied. "Well, I'm afraid I, for one, shall never understand these humans."

xxxxxx

Never one for ceremony, Mara was thoughtful as she and the rest of the Jedi raised their lightsaber's in salute to the young Jedi Knights accomplishments over the past three years. Though fully trained, they lacked a full breadth of experience that was essential to the perseverance of the order. Therefore, together with the other, older Jedi, Luke had developed a plan where each new knight would be apprenticed as a next step to preparing them.

Listening to Tionne's ballad of the fall of the Shadow Academy, Diversity Alliance and the threat of the Black Sun she was overcome with a measure of emotion. Legends were being made here tonight, and Mara only hoped that the grounding of values given to each of these knights, still within their adolescence, would help them to keep their bearings. Mara had chosen to remain part of the greater band of Jedi, instead of on the dais, where Han, Luke and Leia had stood after the destruction of the first Death Star, partially because it was where she belonged, but also because she fully recognized herself as one of the order.

She nodded her head at the dignitaries that she passed, making her way towards the front of the grand audience chamber where the rest of her family waited.

As she caught Luke's eye, his smile was proud…not only for his niece and nephews but also for her and her recent accomplishments.

"Congratulations Jaina, Jacen, Anakin."

Jaina grinned, somewhat abashed by all the attention. "Thank you Aunt Mara-" she paused before correcting herself. "Master Jade Skywalker."

"Don't you forget it, Apprentice Solo." Mara's tone was teasing, before she turned to Luke. "Skywalker, who didn't you tell?"

Before he could answer, Han, whose hand was on his youngest son's shoulder noted with a wry smile, "If ol' Kenobi could see me now…"

Mara ribbed him back, "Oh I'm sure he's laughing at his vindication." Glancing at the group she looked at her brother-in-law with curiosity. "Where's Leia?"

He tilted her head to the corner of the dais where Leia was deep in conversation with a group of Senators, while simultaneously holding her comm to her lips. "Duty calls."

Sympathetically, Mara caught Leia's eye and was startled when she beckoned her over. She excused herself, cautiously approaching the group.

"Master Jade Skywalker, " Leia's tone was formal indicating that she was about to ask for something, and was giving her a way out without the pull of family connections.

"Madame President?" Mara tipped her head in greeting to the other Senators.

"May I introduce Liragop, a Sunesi from Monor II, " and "General Dilanti of Zartoc IV, currently residing in Exile on Coruscant."

Turning to the diplomats Mara bowed slightly, "How can I help you?"

"Well, Master Jade Skywalker," it was the General who spoke first. "The Sunesi have just invited me and many other diplomats to the accession of the tenth priest-prince Agapos the Tenth." His oval eyes appraised Leia before continuing. "As per Chief of State Organa Solo's recommendation, I would like to request if the Jedi may be able to provide support for my delegation."

"Is there a reason you fear a bodyguard is necessary?" Mara was blunt, questioning.

Again he sought Leia's assurance to continue. "There is a newly formed group, a splinter group that has been opposed to my policies connected to Monor II. They have threatened my life, and have already sabotaged my offices on Zartoc IV. It is essential, in order to remain in cooperative agreement with the Sunesi, that I attend this event of high importance. Unless support is provided, I cannot."

Mara thought for a second, trying to remember what she knew of Monor II, a planet which was known for its outdoor ceremonies amidst a glittering, cirrifogladen atmosphere. She had once expressed an interest to Leia to see it, and she understood that this was a way for her sister-in-law to kill to birds with one stone, providing Mara with the opportunity to see the phenomena, while also maintaining her connection to a minor, yet rising, bureaucrat.

Mara smiled graciously, "Send me the details, I will see what we can work out."

xxxxxxxxx

Like djarik pieces we were slowly moving into place, but the other players were invisible to us remaining hidden in their own webs of deceit and manipulation.

Someone had to make the first move…..but like all catalysts and moments of truth, none of us would know until it was too late.

End of Post 6

End Part I

Credit: All of this is mine, (although references were made to events in books by Zahn and others). Additionally, in the last couple sections the first Italic portion, where the YJK are welcomed back is from Crisis at Crystal Reef pp 181-183, while the second section, which is a POV change of a scene included in Crisis at Crystal Reef is the italics are excerpted from pp 192-196. The final section of the post is based off the final scene in Crisis at Crystal Reef, but I changed it so that we're seeing the ceremony from Mara's POV, and extended it past the end of the book.