Listening patiently to Han elaborate on Al'than'erudo's surprise visit Anakin kept a sharp eye on his grandchildren. Jacen seemed torn between wanting to go and fear of failing on such an important mission. Jaina, by contrast, was almost angry at Al'than'erudo for holding decisive information back from them. And Han was scared near out of his wits. He might accept to let his children run around with their uncle or their mother or even himself, but not alone. It was a fear the former Dark Lord had never known in such intensity. Even though he too had often had cause to worry for his children's safety, he had always been able to soothe himself with the fact that they were grown up. Jacen and Jaina were not. At least that was what their father thought.

He stole a glance at Padmé, who was seated beside him in one of the chairs by the cold fire-place. Her expression was alert and she was totally focused on the report, while she was already evaluating its meaning. When Han explained about Jaina's suspicions her grand-mother smiled approvingly at the girl. Jacen, who saw that exchange, looked crestfallen and his shoulders slumped just a little bit. Anakin decided to intervene on his behalf.

"This is all very neat thinking," he conceded. "But I don't see how you can accuse Al'than'erudo of lying to you."

Head whipping around Padmé gave him an incredulous look, but said nothing. Han barked a short laugh of disbelief, yet Jaina's face was flushed with anger. "How can we not suspect him of deception?" she snapped. "You of all people should see the signs," she added, and Anakin felt his face turn cold and hard.

"Perhaps, young lady," he said calmly, "you should consider the possibility that suspicion can serve as a blind against the truth just as well as it can be a tool to uncover it."

"You do not truly believe that, do you?" Jaina challenged him, looking unconvinced.

Anakin gave her a tight smile. "Of course I believe it. Jaina, if you knew what I know about intrigue and deception you would believe the same. It is all very well to see through ploys, but if you see them everywhere you can become easy prey for those who see much more. That was how I fell into Palpatine's clutches in the first place," he reminded them all, and finally his granddaughter gave a grudging nod. "That does not mean that Al'than'erudo might not have withheld some of the truth," the former Cor'dan continued, and this time it was Padmé who laughed. Ignoring her, Anakin looked straight at Han. "I know you have a mission to perform, but I will make sure that no harm will come to your children. Don't worry."

"I don't," his son-in-law announced, but his eyes betrayed him. "You just look after yourselves, and look out for one another," he pleaded, directing a glance at the twins. They nodded in unison, both seemingly stricken with their father's undisguised concern.

Jacen rose abruptly and went forward to hug Han tight, and Jaina joined the two men a moment later. On impulse, Anakin reached out to take Padmé's hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze. They shared a smile, then Anakin rose from his seat and waited for the Solos to acknowledge him. All three turned toward him with somewhat forced smiles on their faces, and he could see how tightly especially Jaina clung to her father. Despite all her criticism and her desire to be independent the bonds she shared with her parents were as tight as that of her brother, though not as visible, perhaps.

"Leia will be arriving before the two of you have to leave for Bakura. If you want to leave," Anakin added. "Were I in your place I would take her advice seriously. Han, I know you've got to prepare the Falcon, and I suggest you two help your father," he told the twins. Beaming, Jacen and Jaina nodded, then the trio retreated to make the long trip to Theed, where the Corellian freighter was berthed in one of the Royal Palace's hangars. When Anakin turned back to face his wife, he found Padmé strangely thoughtful.

"Al'than'erudo seems worried," she said, "if he is going to risk Jaina and Jacen as diversion."

"So you believe he is using them, too?"

Padmé raised her head, her brown eyes earnest. "Al'than'erudo cannot afford playing fair. The Council cannot allow itself any rest. You know that as well as I do, after all, this was your idea in the first place."

"Yes." Nodding slowly, Anakin compressed his lips into a thin line. It was only too true, but back then he had been filled with self-sacrifice and a zeal that bordered on obsession. He had wanted to end the power-struggles between and within the galaxy's differing nations by establishing a system of checks and balances, with the Council of Naboo weighing against all other governments and interest groups. To achieve that goal the Council had to become as powerful and notorious as he had been. But then he had taken the post as Cor'dan, had found that there were other ways to achieve his goals than threats, that there may be more light and compassion around than he had thought. He had grown more placid, less willing to fight so hard again. And yet it had cost him dearly to overcome himself and allow his children and their friends to take over. Still he worried too much, though. In fact, he feared that he would never cease worrying. "I need to find out what is really going on," he told Padmé quietly, but she shook her head and rose from her seat.

"No, dear. I will go and talk to Al'than'erudo. This is not your arena."

Though he felt hurt, Anakin realized that she was right. He had never played in her league, had never been a politician. "Okay. I'm going to conduct my own investigations," he told her nevertheless.

"Do what you like," she sighed, then started from the room.

Anakin remained where he stood, lost in thought. If he asked Karrde to let him have a peek at the Seeker's latest reports he would certainly receive what information he needed to understand Al'than'erudo's motives. Feeling uneasy, he marched from the room and stopped short upon seeing Amerie's small form farther down the hallway. Her slim body cast in shadows, the little girl gazed at him out of glowing golden eyes earnestly. Smiling, Anakin went down on his haunches and spread his arms for a hug.

"Hey, little one, come here." She approached cautiously, strangely timid, and Anakin frowned. "What's up, darling?" he asked, worried. Very suddenly she broke into a run and threw herself at him, crying. "Amerie!" Straightening, Anakin held her close to his heart, fear pounding in his chest. "Are you afraid? What happened?" A movement at the end of the hallway caught his attention and he peered into the gloom, trying to see who it was, then used the Force to enhance his perception. There was nothing. "Who's there?"

A cold breeze traveled leisurely down the hallway, chilling him to the bone and making Amerie shiver in his arms. "I want Mama to come," the little girl pleaded, and the despair in her tone nearly broke Anakins's heart.

"Amerie," he whispered, feeling helpless against the nameless dread that held the girl prisoner. "There's nothing to fear. Your Mama is all right."

"No!" Amerie screeched and started thrashing in his arms.

He quickly put her down so she would not hurt herself, but loosely kept his arms around her to lend some comfort. Nevertheless his granddaughter broke from him and started running down the hallway, toward the garden. Following her quickly, Anakin felt his concern grow alarmingly. At the end of the hallway the open door showed the lake's surface glitter in the light of the afternoon sun, so peaceful and at the same time jarring against the darkness of the quiet house. When Anakin reached the doorway he stopped and held his breath. There was something, like an invisible shadow that had settled over the enchanting valley, a feeling of urgency and disaster lurking in the distance. If that was what Amerie had felt it was no wonder she was so disturbed now. The girl's sensitivity was astounding, but she was too young to handle it yet. He saw her kneel at the lakeshore, peering hard into the clear water. What she was seeing there Anakin would have very much liked to know. Determined to help his granddaughter and uncover the reason for her outburst, Anakin stepped outside. But in the last instant something caught his attention at the edge of his vision and he turned his head to the left, only to find a familiar pair of pale green eyes gazing back at him.

Grimacing wrily, Anakin felt led on again. Raisa, who had painted that portray decades ago, had never met the man it depicted, but had developed the image from the stories she had heard from her husband and friends. For someone who had not known Roj Kell's disturbing mix of cunning and wisdom she had incorporated both pretty well into that painting. It was not a realistic depiction, rather abstract. The eyes and face were mere sketches, but Raisa had a gift of capturing the essence of what she painted perfectly. Anakin gave the portray a solemn nod. When Padmé had insisted on putting the picture here, at the end of the hallway, he had objected, because he had not wanted that reminder of their past inside their home. But Padmé had reasoned that she could think of no one better to guard their backs. Which was why the portray additionally hid a sensor array.

With a shake of his head, Anakin stepped out into the light to see after his granddaughter.

When Amerie heard him come up to her she turned her head quickly to throw him a reassuring smile that he returned warmly. Twenty years ago, when he had learned about his father's true identity, Anakin had taken a long time to convince himself that it would not hurt to find out more about the Jedi Master Alamys Jorka. But he had also been afraid to find out that his father had been much less than what Anakin hoped and expected him to have been. In a sense he feared to be as nastily surprised as his own children must have been when they had learned that their own father was none other than the feared and loathed Dark Lord of the Sith. Yet his careful research, supported dilligently by Talon Karrde and his network, had not yielded all that much information. Nothing personal, that was. Alamys Jorka had been the youngest of seven siblings, six boys and one girl in total. The family had lived on Tyreena for generations, and Alamys had been the only one to leave the planet. His sister, Amerie, the oldest of the Jorka children, had had only one son, Alvey, before her husband had died, and she had never remarried.

Why Luke and Nuron had chosen to name their little daughter after her great-grand-aunt Anakin had never dared to ask.

As it was, Anakin had found a more personal account of his father's character from a rather unexpected source: Yana Dar. It turned out that the Empress had met the Jedi Master on a Corporate Sector world called Weyla shortly before his death. If one were to believe Yana's report Alamys Jorka had been neither vengeful nor righteous. Faced with his greatest nemesis' only daughter he had not refused her help when she needed it. On the contrary. The brief encounter that Yana had told Anakin in vivid detail had soothed him somewhat, and he believed that, just perhaps, this was a sign that he could be just like Alamys had been. Gentle, wise and decisive. The way Anakin pictured his father now could not come close to the truth, he knew, but it was what he wished his father to have been. There would never be more, he knew. But then, was it not more rewarding to live in the present instead of the past? Reaching out he gently took Amerie in his arms and lifted her up so she could sit in the crook of his elbow.

"Hey," he whispered. "What's up? The picture in the hallway did not scare you, did it?" Golden eyes wide in denial, she shook her head. Anakin dubbed her nose with his playfully. "Then you're braver than I am, cause I always get scared when I see it."

That made her laugh out loud, just what he had counted on. "Never!" she exclaimed, rolling her eyes.

"So, what was it that scared you, then?"

Swallowing slowly, Amerie gazed at him fearfully. Then, cupping her small hands around her mouth, she leaned over to whisper into his ear: "I thought I saw Mama and Papa in a bone castle," she confessed.

"Bone castle?" Anakin said aloud.

"Shhh!" the little girl cautioned him, waving her arms vehemently. Outraged, she shook her head again, sending her black mane flying. "The bone queen will hear you!" she hissed.

"What queen?"

When she looked at him again her golden eyes were full of terror. "She is looking for Khammy," she breathed, then threw herself against his shoulder, sobbing: "I want Mama to come!"

Helplessly patting her tiny back, Anakin found his mind racing. He was not certain if Amerie had only had a bad dream or whether she had had a Force-induced vision of sorts. After all, her parents had left on a mission into the Deep Core, where Anakin knew they would indeed enter a castle of bones, if one were so tasteless as to call a mass grave that. But it was not that which worried the little girl. Amerie, it seemed, was far more concerned for her older brother. And Anakin found it quite telling that she would rather rely on her mother to protect Khameir than on her father. Anakin knew very well that to Amerie her brother was the greatest, that she loved him dearly, perhaps even more than she loved her parents. And she was protective of him too. Therefore her concern was understandable. And what queen was she referring tro? Not Padmé, that was for sure.

"Did you dream that?" he asked at last.

"Not sure," she admitted quietly. "When do Mama and Papa come home?"

"Soon," Anakin sighed. "Soon."

By the time they came across the ninth or maybe tenth pile of skeletons Luke Skywalker felt hard-pressed to retain the mask of cool composure he had donned the moment he had fully realized what had happened here in the Deep Core's Koornacht Cluster. Genocide. There was no other word for it, and yet words were not enough to describe what old terror still lingered here on Nzoth, the Yevethan homeworld. There were no survivors, he knew. Risking a glance to the right he gazed at his wife, who wore her anger plainly on her beautiful face. Nuron's golden eyes were burning embers of outrage, and her fingers twitched helplessly. There was nothing they could do here, save to bury the dead.

"What a mess," a weary voice announced, and Luke turned his head to look sharply at Doctor Plawal, the tall human scientist who had asked the Council for assistance in his upcoming research in the Deep Core.

During the war against the Yuuzhan Vong and in its aftermath no one had bothered much with investigating the Deep Core, not only because resources had been stretched, but also because the Yevetha were known to harbor rather isolationist views. But then, a decade ago, when the New Republic had begun coveting more allies to counter the Sith Empire's expansion into Chiss space and its good relations to the Confederate Zone the Republic diplomats had also tried to establish contact to the Yevetha. Then a heavily armed foray team had ventured into the Nzoth system, since every effort at hailing the planet had failed. They had found Nzoth's population savagely slain, while, miraculously, the colonists in the outlying worlds of the system had survived. With other problems on its agenda the New Republic had abandoned any thoughts of researching the why and how of this horrendous disaster, but news had trinkled throught to the Council. Luke remembered all too well his father's reaction and that memory still made him shiver. Anakin had known who was responsible for the Yevetha's annihilation, but by that time their murderer had been dead for years himself, buried on Laa'kuan.

But a few months ago Doctor Pawal, funded by a private humanitarian organization, as far as Luke could tell, had been given the task of researching the exact cause of the wipe-out on Nzoth. To ensure the safety of his team and to be able to draw upon the Council's extensive information network Pawal had approached the Council of Naboo to gain assistance from them. And Luke, who himself felt in part responsible for the massacre, had accepted instantly. Decades ago, back on Laa'kuan, he had sought to destroy a Yuuzhan Vong fleet with the aid of the incredible power amassed in the sanctuary on the secluded planet. Back then he had caused the deaths of thousands of soldiers, both friend and foe, when his efforts had sparked the birth of a giant black hole that had swallowed the Yuuzhan Vong fleet as well as a friendly Chiss task force. He had learned then that the energies he had unleashed had been assembled by none other than Roj Kell, the guardian of the sanctuary. Do you have any idea what it cost me to direct these energies here, at Laa'kuan? the ancient Sith had asked wearily. Now, standing among the dead of Nzoth, Luke knew just what price had been paid.

"A mess?" Nuron snarled angrily. "You call this a mess, Doctor? This is a catastrophe!"

"No doubt about that," Pawal replied coolly. He nodded at the burly woman standing next to him. His assistant scurried off, leaving the Doctor alone with both Luke and Nuron. "Now, Master Skywalker, do you have any idea how this could have happened?" he asked quietly.

Luke nodded. "I believe I do."

"So?"

Grimacing wrily, the Jedi Master sought reassurance with his wife, but Nuron's expression was carved from stone. "Well," he began, as he turned back toward Pawal. "We, that is, my father, myself and the Cor'dan, believe that a Sith Lord slew these people to use their life energy to power a weapon against the Yuuzhan Vong."

"A Sith Lord," Pawal breathed, and Luke had no trouble sensing the man's disgust. "His name was not, by any chance, Roj Kell?" Luke nodded. "You should have killed him when you could," the Doctor snorted, then turned away to rejoin the rest of the team.

"He's right," Nuron agreed coolly.

Luke flashed her a grin: "You don't believe that a minute, do you? Had we killed him back on Coruscant or Korriban we would have been wiped out by the Yuuzhan Vong." He turned serious again. "And you know as well as I do that he chose his own punishment for what he did here."

"And that gave him the right to do what he did?" his wife protested heatedly. "I won't deny that he helped us immensely, in his own way, mind you. But I don't think the Cor'dan can remain apart from rules and regulations that have been accepted by the majority of peoples in this galaxy."

"He could. For three thousand years," Luke countered calmly. "And while I certainly don't condone his methods, I don't believe he meant to harm either."

"You're too naive for me," Nuron breathed. "Luke, he knew exactly what he was doing, always did. And even if his overall goal had been good, he was still evil, immensely evil, if that evil is measured on a smaller scale. And it is no excuse that he did not spare himself either."

But Luke, who had heard that line often enough over the years, was pensively gazing at Doctor Pawal, who stood talking animatedly with the rest of the research group. There were five scientists and ten mercenaries who supposedly were there to lend a hand if protection was needed. "I wonder how he could guess that Kell was responsible for this," he mused aloud.

"Agreement on Scientific and Historical Research, Segment Two of the Public Service Amendment to the Council of Naboo's charter," Nuron replied with a smile. "We don't keep all of the old man's knowledge to ourselves," she added.

"I seem to remember that, yes," Luke sighed. "The Seeker did not say anything about this."

"How could it have? That memory flash-print was done years before Kell died."

The Jedi Master shook his head vehemently. "That's not what I meant. What I meant was that nothing in that memory flash-print points toward a ritual such as this one."

"Kell was always quite unconvential in what methods he employed."

"Hey, we're real lucky all those Sith are on the other side of the border, right?" a rough voice hollered across the mass grave.

Both Luke and Nuron turned toward the speaker. He was a human in his middle-years, heavily armed, and his fierce gaze belied the mirth his bad joke suggested. Before Luke could hold her back, Nuron strode toward the mercenary, her slender body looking incredibly frail next to the man's bulk as she confronted him.

"And what do you mean by that, exactly?" she demanded coldly.

The man looked her up and down quite pointedly, but he was talking over her shoulder, toward Luke, when he answered: "Well-known fact that those sorcerers thrive in that Empire your glorious campaign two decades back failed to destroy. Them and their Yuuzhan Vong pets." He spat on the ground at Nuron's feet, missing her boots just barely. "I figure that we've had enough Sith slaying innocent people and claiming it was in the name of justice and order. I figure we don't need any sorcerers to tell us what's right or wrong. Seems to me that we know better than you do what's right." And that last statement was certainly meant for Luke himself.

As he made his way over to join both his wife and the man who had challenged them both Luke was in no hurry. He did not want to seem driven by guilty conscience or fury, so he kept his features blank and his hands where everyone could see them. But Nuron, who had once sworn to be his guardian, could not resist answering the man's badly timed insult.

"There is a custom my people honor," she said softly, and Luke could imagine the earnest gaze in her golden eyes.

But her opponent met her glare unflinchingly. "Yeah? Didn't know you people had any honor at all."

Hand dropping lightly on Nuron's right forearm, Luke inserted himself between his wife and her would-be-victim. If he let her have her way she would indeed challenge that fool over her honor, and her husband's, of course. "Mister - ?"

The man spat again, and this time the spittle did hit Luke's right boot. The Jedi Master felt Nuron's muscles tense into hard cords underneath the cloth covering her arm. Squeezing gently, he cautioned her, never taking his eyes off the burly human confronting them.

"Name's Frek Nessel," the mercenary answered, "and I'm damn proud of that name. No mass murderers or Sith Lords in my family, farm-boy."

Luke smiled thinly. Nessel was clearly trying to provoke them, and unfortunately Luke had given a promise to accompany the research team. If he and Nuron drew out of that promise now the Council of Naboo would get flamed for that withdrawal. Somehow he got the feeling that this had been Pawal's plan all along. For a moment the Jedi Master regretted dearly that he had not taken Talon Karrde's offer of having the Doctor's clients' background checked a bit more thoroughly. Now he had to see to it that he circumnavigated this sticky cliff without losing face and without Nuron losing her temper. It would be humiliating for sure, but that was the price one had to pay for wisdom, sometimes. Still, this change of events had surprised him, as he had relied on the Seeker's prediction for this mission, and the Seeker had clearly approved. Perhaps Nuron was right after all, and he should start distrusting Roj Kell's thinking mode a bit more.

After all, the Seeker had been developed on the late Emperor's orders to imitate the ancient Sith Lord's thought processes, to be able to make use of the flash-print taken of the man's memory back on Byss. Knowing that no available computer program could handle that influx of data Palpatine had had a cadre of talented scientists and slicers work on the Seeker-program to unlock the secrets harbored within his former mentor's mind. Unfortunately he had not lived to see the Seeker operational. But Luke had seen it in action, and he knew the value of three thousand years of knowledge administrated by a program that could analyze a given problem with a certainty of ninety-nine point nine per cent and had at its disposal a reevaluation motivator that, if it spotted a flaw in a given train of reasoning, could correct an analysis with a lop-sided Delay Execution in the matter of ten seconds, and offer an alternative.

"Well, Mister Nessel, I am certain that to you it must seem like that, but perhaps you lack the perspective to understand the entire picture," Luke said reasonably, trying to infuse the man's mind with calm, reassuring thoughts.

Nessel frowned angrily. "Are you saying I'm an idiot?"

"No, absolutely not," the Jedi Master replied with a shake of his head. "I merely meant to point out that things sometimes are not what they seem."

"I can see what's in front of my eyes well enough!" Nessel exclaimed, and an expansive gesture took in the entire graveyard. "You can't talk that away! And you and your cronies knew who was responsible fo this and did nothing to bring that someone to justice!"

"That he managed himself," Luke muttered under his breath.

When Roj Kell had arrived at Laa'kuan only to find that Luke had already spent the energy he had gained by slaying Nzoth's inhabitants and redirected to the labyrinthine sanctuary on that secluded world, he had forgone any further use of his innate power until he had been beyond help, mortally wounded in a ritual sacrifice conducted by the Yuuzhan Vong warmaster Marayl Carr. The annihilation of Nzoth's Yevethan population had not been the only massacre caused by the ancient Sith Lord, though, but Roj Kell clearly had been responsible only to himself. And Luke was learning the hard way that perhaps he himself would have to choose that same path. Especially if sentiments like those obviously harbored by Nessel and Pawal were more wide-spread than the Jedi Master had previously thought.

Fixing the mercenary in a blue-eyed glare, he nodded curtly. "I suggest we all have our jobs to do. Far as I recall that's to secure the area, so let's get to it." With those words he strode past Nessel, careful not to touch the man even accidentially, and felt Nuron follow on his heels, her temper cooled somewhat. She caught up with him as he strode down what was left of the capital city's main boulevard and they walked in silence for a while.

"What do you think we'll find here?" he asked softly.

"Apart from the bodies?" she asked right back, voice grim. "You mean to imply that the Seeker sent us here for a purpose?"

Luke gave his wife a boyish grin. "Nuron, how could you of all people doubt that? Come on," he added, "somewhere on this planet there's a secret that needs to be uncovered."

Jaina Solo stood at her brother's side at the very edge of the royal hangar, peering after the rapidly disappearing all too familiar disk-shape that was the Millennium Falcon. By the time the three Solos had been finished with prepping the old freighter evening had been turning to night on this side of the planet, and their time was running up fast. Tomorrow they would have to give Al'than'erudo their answer. And while she really wanted to go to Bakura and join Teer Shikay's command, she could also sense that Jacen was more than reluctant to go. But what could really happen to them? Even if Al'than'erudo was using them as decoy he would never dare endanger them. They would probably spend the entire assignment on the Freedom, never even coming close to trouble. Then why was she so eager to go?

The answer was not all that easy. On one hand she wanted to prove to her parents that she and Jacen were both grown up, that they could handle their own missions. And on the other hand she felt that a mission of their own would help both of them grow in the Force. Though their mother and uncle had been training them whenever there was time, Jaina felt that they knew not much more than theory. They needed more practise, and though it hurt to think that way, she sometimes thought that the overpowering presence of either Mother or Uncle Luke somehow diminished her own perception of the Force. And what was more, she knew that, deep inside, Jacen felt the same way. He was just more cautious than she was, more thoughtful, and more inclined to give in to an adult's arguments.

"You really want to go on that mission, don't you?" he said suddenly, and Jaina's head snapped around to look into his brown eyes, mirror to her own.

She nodded sharply. "Yes. I feel we have to do this."


"I guess I agree," he shrugged. "And still..." Before she could protest, he continued: "I suppose between Mother and Grandfather to prep us nothing much can surprise us on that trip."

Triumphant, Jaina spread her arms wide. "Finally you're seeing sense!" she exclaimed, then clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Come. Grandma will want to take us back with her to Varykino."

"No. Grandma is staying overnight. And you two will do the same," their grandmother's voice announced from behind them. Surprised, both twins whirled around to face Padmé's petite form. She was smiling at them. "If this is proof that you really did not sense me approach I might agree with you, Jaina, that you two need to grow some more in the Force."

"For how long have you been listening?" Jacen asked, ears burning red.

"How did you know what I meant?" Jaina herself inquired, frowning.

Their grandmother gave an elegant shrug. "I have been married to your grandfather long enough," she explained. "One tends to pick up that way of thinking over so long a time," she added with a smile.

Jaina smiled back. "Have you talked to Al'than'erudo?"

"Yes. He evaded most of my questions, but I believe your suspicions are right, Jaina. In that case I do not think that much can happen to you. I have also talked to your mother."

"You have!" Jacen exclaimed, aghast. "What did she say?"

Grandmother arched a brow questioningly. "What do you think?"

"She refused," Jaina replied, feeling disappointed.

"You really think so? Your mother has donned the mantle of responsibility much earlier than you will," grandmother told her gently. "Though she is certainly not thrilled, she recognises the need of your beginning to go your own ways." She winked at the twins conspiratively. "I fear she will be bringing all documents the Coruscant Administrative Library has on Bakura."

Jaina groaned in fake exasperation, but Jacen asked: "What about you? What do you think of our going?"

For a moment grandmother's face turned to stone. Then she said lightly: "Does it matter?"

She turned away to leave, and Jaina found herself sharing a troubled gaze with Jacen. Somehow it felt wrong to leave on a mission that was disapproved of by at least two family members. So far the twins had been used to things being done only by consent, and it felt strange to have their mission of all possible ones become the shatterpoint of familial consent. But then, perhaps this was part of growing up. To present a front for once, and stand firm even against one's family.

Jacen returned his sister's troubled look, sensing her dilemma. And yet, he felt that they should not be so surprised to have this coming at them now. Al'than'erudo was right, as was Grandmother. The two of them needed to leave childish fears behind them at last. Wistfully, he pondered the past afternoon and his thoughts on growing up. It was not that he shied away from taking responsibility, but he believed that the consequences could be crushing, and he was not at all certain whether he was prepared to face that. With his grandfather and uncle as prime examples for two different ways to sacrifice compassion and innocence to achieve balance, Jacen felt that perhaps there was not one right way to become a true guardian. Eventually one was walking that path alone, and he feared that Jaina's path was different from his. A frightening prospect.

The problem was, that, apart from his twin sister, he had no real comparison to other Force-sensitive children growing up around him. Yes, of course Amerie and Khameir, Uncle Luke's children, were both strong in the Force, but they were being raised by two very earnest and dutiful people, whereas Jacen and Jaina had a father who took life much easier than his wife did, for example, and a mother who was, sadly enough, mostly occupied with politics. Jacen thought that Khameir, when he had last seen his cousin, had seemed so much more mature than he himself had been at that age. As for Amerie, though she retained her child-like attitude she would sometimes pause and give her surroundings a most inquisitive look, that seemed to belie her age completely.

And their closest childhood friend had grown apart from them by taking a leap into womanhood and adult life two years ago. Neither he nor Jaina had seen Luzaya Dan ever since she had announced that she was becoming apprentice to the Cor'dan. While both twins certainly thought that mysterious and thrilling, they secretly doubted that Luzaya ever would become a true guardian. She was not Force-sensitive in the least, and to their knowledge all Cor'dan so far had been quite powerful in that regard. Powerful, and dark. It frightened Jacen a little to think of lively Luzaya that way, as he remembered her much differently. Mischievous, spoiled, and always laughing, she had sometimes been even more childish than her younger friends. Jacen found himself grinning in remembrance, and got nudged by Jaina for his trouble.

"Are you daydreaming or what?" she hissed, then grabbed his arm to drag him along after their grandmother, who had almost reached the hangar's exit.

"Just thinking of old friends," he shot back, and his older sister gave him a curious look.

"Luzaya?"

Jacen nodded. "She's coming here, with Andarack," he replied needlessly.

"Yeah," Jaina replied slowly, "I'm looking forward to seeing her too." But she didn't sound very convincing. Jacen caught her smoothing down her long brown hair self-consciously and smirked at her. But, seeing her expression when she found him looking, he wisely said nothing.

Both keeping silent, the twins hurried after Padmé, each lost in thought.

PS:

Thanks for the reviews, Gwen, I really appreciate it!