Callista Ming's apartment, Coruscant. 32 ABY.

Luke had been standing outside the battered door for close to an hour. The squalor of the district unsettled him. He knew Coruscant's underground was a hive of corruption and moral deficiency, but the abject poverty troubled him greatly. He felt almost ashamed of the small but nonetheless lavish apartment he shared with his family. To see people living in such squalor only reinforced his many regrets about the war, about the troubles that faced the fledging government.

But that was not the reason he was so unnerved. Mara understood why he had why he had to come, why he had to see Callista. They had sorted any problems that issue had plagued them with, and now his wife only worried about what he would be confronted by. She'd offered to accompany him, but Luke knew this was something he had to face alone. Besides, he didn't imagine Callista would be exactly forthcoming with him if Mara was there.

He had his wife's blessing, and now all Luke had to do was overcome his uneasiness. He worried about what Callista had to tell him, from what Mara had said it had sounded fairly serious. Something she could only tell Luke. Mara had mentioned that she had not sensed any Force presence at all within her, but that didn't negate the danger of the Dark Side. Luke doubted that insinuation, however. The Callista that Luke had known would have died before turning to the Dark Side.

It couldn't have been personal, either. Not after seeing Mara and Ben. Despite what his wife thought, Callista was scrupulously moral. No, any relationship between them was firmly in the past, and that was where Luke preferred to keep it. Although, he couldn't deny that he was glad at the opportunity to see her again. Their parting at Nam Chorios had been melancholy and resigned. But, looking back, it had never been sufficient closure for him. Perhaps this was an opportunity for it.

Gathering his inner strength, and reminding himself that he was a Jedi Master who had survived all forms of tragedy, grief and trouble, Luke raised an apprehensive fist and knocked carefully.

She answered almost immediately, and Luke took in the image of his former love a few moments. She was still beautiful, but it was clear the years had not been kind to her. She almost looked haggard, missing the radiance he had come to associate with her presence on the Eye of Palpatine. But she smiled brilliantly when she recognised him. "Luke…" the words slipped from her mouth in a reverent whisper.

He returned her smile gently as he stepped inside. "Hello, Callista".

She quickly closed the door and drew him into a firm embrace. He returned it, somewhat awkwardly. For a moment, the vanilla-scent of her hair washed over him, and it was as if he stepped back twenty years. Underneath the marked face and soft bitterness that he felt in her, was the same woman he had fallen in love with so easily. He was different, though, he realised as he gently pulled her back to arms length.

"I never thought I would see your face again". She touched his cheek with her cool fingers, smiling wistfully.

"It's good to see you too, Callie". He squeezed her forearm gently.

At his words, Callista closed her eyes, her smile widening. "It feels so good to hear you call me that". Her eyes reopened and her gaze settled on his face appraisingly. "You look good" she said approvingly.

Luke blushed slightly. "A few more wrinkles here, some grey there…I'm surprised you even recognise me" he laughed.

"My heart would know you anywhere". She moved her light fingers over the small streaks of grey at his temples. "I think you look distinguished".

Luke grinned like a schoolboy. "That's what Mara says".

Abruptly, Callista's smile faded, and she moved out of his loose hold. Luke immediately regretted his words – he had been going so well! A sense of unease descended upon them and Luke searched for something to say. He was not ashamed of his marriage to Mara, nor was he going to apologise for it. But Callista's pride might be wounded – however slightly – if he flaunted his happiness in her face. Especially since she appeared to be living hard.

Eventually Callista broke the silence and turned back to face him. "Your son is beautiful".

"Thank you". Luke wasn't sure what else to say, and he certainly wasn't going to dispute the fact.

"I always knew you would make a wonderful father". She attempted to smile, but it came out like a grimace.

Luke tried not to be irritated by her expression. "I couldn't spend my life waiting for you, Callista" he replied, as gently as possible.

"I didn't really expect you too". She folded her arms defiantly, a shred of displeasure entering her voice. "I suppose I just don't understand…her of all people" she said, her voice full of malice.

Luke felt a streak of anger lace through him. "I wouldn't advise you to finish that thought, Callista" he warned dangerously. He was tired of people judging Mara on her past, to hear it from someone who still held a dear place in his heart was almost unbearable.

Callista gave him a wounded look, but kept silent. Luke sighed, and ran a hand through his hair, calming himself. He gestured towards the small, battered chaise by the window. "Can I sit?"

She nodded her consent, and followed to sit beside him. Luke was relieved to see that she was a respectable distance from him.

"I'm listening, Callista". He eyed her carefully, cutting straight to the point. "After 20 years, why come back now?"

Callista visibly braced herself. She reached for his hand, and Luke allowed her to take it, but did not return the squeeze she gave his fingers.

"I tried so hard to find the Force after I left you, Luke. Every lead I followed, every system I visited only disappointed me further". She smiled bitterly. "So I tried to live a normal life. I told myself that billions of people survive without the Force, and they are happy, so why not me? But I couldn't do that either. I was still only half of myself". Callista sighed, and gripped his hand tighter.

"During the war I worked with refugees, as a nurse. I knew enough about rudimentary medicine and working in the field taught me the rest. I was helping people, but it still wasn't enough. I realised that the Force, even though I could not access it, was still a part of me".

Callista's gaze met his own. "That's why I've come back, Luke. Running away from the Jedi didn't solve my problems, it only made them worse. I want to rejoin your Order – even if it's just as an administrator, or a representative. I need to be around the Jedi again, and then, maybe, I might find what I've been looking so hard for".

Luke let all of the information digest for a few moments. "That's it?" He regarded her incredulously. "You came because you want to rejoin the Jedi, stop running away from your heritage?" He shook his head in disbelief. "I'm happy you want to do so…but you could have told all of this to Mara".

"I was afraid that if she knew...she wouldn't let me see you. I had to make it seem like it was something I could only tell you". Her gaze darted away, unable to meet his.

"I don't appreciate being manipulated" he replied coldly.

"I'm sorry Luke, I didn't mean…" She bit her lower lip and clutched his hand more tightly. "I wanted to see you" she admitted, her eyes meeting his. "I realised I made a mistake leaving you, Luke, if I had the choice again…"

Luke sighed and looked away. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid.

"I wanted so badly to find the Force…for us" Callista's voice rose in pitch and intensity. "I know you think I abandoned you – loved the Force more than you, but that's just not true. I've always loved you more than anything…I still love you".

He stiffened, and gently removed his hand awkwardly from her iron grip.

"Please, Luke. I just – I wanted us to be equal, to be worthy of you. It wouldn't be right for a Jedi Master to be with someone without the Force".

Luke turned to face her, a remembered sadness washing over him. "That never mattered to me, Callista". His voice became resigned. "Maybe if you understood me at all you'd have realised that".

"And Mara Jade understands you?" Her voice rose slightly and took on a hard edge. "She served Palpatine, Luke. Probably served him in every way" she exclaimed bitterly. "She could have been his mistress for all you know"

Luke was barely aware of anything other than his crushing anger. He stood abruptly, grabbing Callista's arm and dragging her up with him. The white-hot current ran through him, and he was barely aware that his grip was crushing her bicep until he heard her cry of pain.

He saw himself reflected in her eyes, the darkness that burned there. Luke released her and hurriedly turned away, waiting for it to ebb. He closed his eyes, reaching to find his centre. It bothered him that after all of these years, the darkness still lingered there beneath the surface. All it had taken was an insult to his wife… Of course, the Jedi now embraced a wider view of the Force itself, but Luke was still cautious of his anger, of the dark emotions that could be so easily provoked.

He heard Callista's frightened, shaky breathing behind him, and he reopened his eyes. "Callista" he began, his voice low and dangerous, but didn't turn to face her. "I forgave you long ago for leaving me. I even understood. I always felt guilty that you lost the Force because of me. You haven't found it again, your life might be less than perfect, and I feel sorry because of that". He turned to face her again. "But I do not have to explain my choices to you, and I will never allow you to say such things about Mara. She's my wife".

Callista appeared to have regained her composure, tilting a defiant chin towards him. "And you love her?"

"Yes".

She walked towards him. "Can you honestly say that the love you share with her was greater than what we had together? We were connected Luke – more deeply than I've ever felt with anyone. I know it was the same for you".

Sufficiently calmed down, Luke shook his head, resting his hand on her arm, lightly caressing the skin where he had grabbed her earlier. "I'm sorry, Callista. At that time…maybe. But the connection Mara and I share is unparalleled".

His other hand came to cup her cheek affectionately. "I will always care deeply about you. And I don't regret loving you". Luke looked deeply into her grey eyes. "But my love is with Mara now –and I'm sorry, but it's stronger than what I felt for you".

A single tear made its way down Callista's cheek, and she inhaled sharply. "I was so sure" she whimpered. "So sure that you'd…settled for her. That she was a…"

"Replacement for you?" Luke shook his head. "No, Callie. My path was always leading towards her".

Callista's slim hand came to cover her mouth, but it didn't smother the sobs that escaped her. Luke's conscience ached, but he knew it had to be this way. Callista needed to know the truth, he couldn't give her a false impression of his marriage, or their relationship.

"Don't you remember, Luke?" She looked up, her voice desperate. "That there's a lot of time in the universe?"

Luke recalled her last words to him, her promise that, in time, they would be with one another again. "I'm sorry, Callie. But we had our time together". He turned to leave.

"Aren't you even going to kiss me goodbye?" Her voice cracked with sadness, and he turned back to see her tear-streaked face.

"Callie…"

"Please, Luke. For old time's sake". Her eyes pleaded with him, as she moved to stand before him.

Resigned, he leaned in close to her, and Callista parted her lips slightly, hopefully. But Luke turned his head, placing a light, warm kiss on her cheek. It was affectionate, but utterly chaste – the kind of kiss he would give his sister. He pulled away after an appropriate amount of time, catching the disappointment that laced her expression. But there was nothing he could do about that. Luke had accepted long ago that although he wanted too, he couldn't be responsible for shielding everyone from grief. Not at the expense of his own happiness, his own family.

So Luke whispered a soft goodbye, gave her a smile, and left.

Absently toying with the beads the wound around her neck, Mara almost didn't notice the suspicious smell of burning meat that began to waft through the air.

"Mama!" Came Ben's eager shout from the table, and then his inane laughter.

Swearing under her breath, Mara swiftly pulled the dish off the heat, waving away the smoke to reveal the almost completely burnt nerf steak.

Mara regarded the charred dish resentfully. She really wasn't as bad a cook as everyone seemed to believe, it was just in certain situations, her anxiety seemed to manifest into whatever she was preparing at the time. When she was completely focussed, her cooking was…passable.

And really, the dish wasn't utterly ruined – if she scraped off the black sections, and covered it in sauce. Mara had certainly eaten a lot worse. She looked hopefully towards her son, who, realising her intention, shook his head vehemently. "Nuh uh!" he cried forcefully. "Uncle Han says I don't have to eat anything I don't wanna. 'Specially if you've cooked it".

Mara scowled, but really couldn't blame him, despite Han's apparent sabotage. Tonight's effort did rate as one of her worst forays in the culinary arts. But hope was not lost, Mara considered, as she gave Ben a wry smile. "Your father will eat it" she concluded.

Shifting her attention to the vegetables which, pleasingly, were cooking perfectly, Mara tried to sound nonchalant. "Who were you talking to earlier, Ben?" She didn't turn around, but Mara felt a soft spike in her son's Force sense.

"When?" Ben sounded dismissive.

Mara risked a glance at him, seemingly preoccupied with his toy X-wing. "I walked by your room earlier" she began, turning to face him fully. "I heard you talking to someone". Mara forced her voice to sound calm, and not accusatory.

Ben didn't look up from the trajectory his ship was taking, and shrugged. "My friend".

"Ah". Mara tried to reach out to Ben through the Force, but found it difficult. Strangely, his aura in the Force seemed…hazy. Less pronounced than it had been before. It was only a slight change, not enough of a shift to be worried about. But Mara was concerned about Ben's 'conversation' she had overheard. "Can I meet your friend?" She asked plaintively.

Finally Ben looked up from his toy, and scrutinised her, scrunching up his face in thought. "I'm the only one who can see him".

"Oh". So he had an imaginary friend, Mara concluded. Nothing to be concerned about, she knew many children invented playmates to keep them company. And since Ben did not know many people his own age, it made sense that he would create someone to spend time with him.

Before she could question her son further, she felt the comforting wave of Luke's Force sense brushing lightly over hers, signalling his return. The apartment door chimed, and Ben immediately jumped out of his seat and ran out of the room. Mara followed him, and was pleased to find Ben had flung himself into Luke's arms, and was clinging to him tightly around the neck.

Smiling, Mara went to them. "Let your father breathe" she cautioned Ben softly, a small laugh escaping her lips as she placed a hand on Luke's arm.

Ben pulled back, contrite, and Luke gave him a grin. "It's alright". He turned to Mara and gave her a light kiss on the lips. "Good evening, my love".

Mara gently brushed a smudge of grime off of Luke's tunic. "Did you get everything you went for?" she asked softly, although Ben was too preoccupied adjusting himself in Luke's arms to care what they were saying.

"Yes. I believe I did". Luke shifted Ben higher and gave her a smile.

"Good" She returned it, relieved. "Dinner's almost ready" Her tone became lighter, and she patted him on the shoulder affectionately.

"Mmm" He took a deep breath and admirably covered the immediate cough caused by still-lingering burning sensation in the air. "Smells wonderful".

Mara wasn't fooled, but loved him for the effort. She ushered them out of the doorway, leading them back into the kitchen. "Does your…friend want to eat with us, Ben?" She ignored the inquisitive face of her husband. I'll explain later she sent through the Force.

"No thanks" Ben smiled, laying his small head on Luke's shoulder. "I don't want to make him sick".