A/N: The silliness ends here, I'm afraid. Mara Jade, meet Mikal Milo: ticked off ex-bounty hunter with a vendetta.

Chapter 5

Mara slammed the palm of her hand against the solid black wall in frustration.

"No back door," she ground out. "Who doesn't have a back door?" Distantly, she could hear Skywalker weaving soothing words around the enraged crowd swarming at the front entrance. From what she saw before darting around back, it didn't look like he'd be able to hold them off for long. They were armed with enough artillery to take down the Imperial Palace, and frothing with enough rage to make Vader look like a public benefactor. Kriff it all, there was no back door! She swung her fist at the unyielding wall again…

And froze as her wrist was seized in an iron grip.

"Either my wife is mistaken, or your skills have atrophied since we saw you last, Ms. Jade." She twisted in the grasp and looked up.

The cold fury in Milo's eyes belied the tranquility of his voice. Mara was suddenly reminded with painful clarity just why she had failed her Master that once so long ago.

She was also reminded how much she loathed failure.

"I always perform to the best of my ability," she retorted sharply. "The issue was not competence. You merely got lucky."

A muscle in his jaw tightened fractionally.

"I'm sure the Emperor didn't view it so."

The wave of dark and scarlet-soaked memories rocked her with no warning, clouding her vision. Stars, it had hurt…still hurts…

Through a haze of phantom pain, Mara sensed Milo's reflexive concern…and felt the minute relaxation off his fingers. Her training kicked in, and choking back the past, she wrenched her arms free and whirled away. Within seconds her blaster was in her hand and she trained it on his chest, breathing hard.

"Don't pity me," she snarled.

"I don't," he replied calmly, and then Mara noticed it. Her backup blaster, the little one that she wore on her forearm. Pointing straight at her abdomen. He met her furious gaze coldly, unsmiling.

"Stalemate, Ms. Jade." They stood there like that for several minutes.

"You were pitying me," she said at last, flatly. Shifting his stance slightly, Milo shook his head.

"Only in the way that I would feel compassion for a crippled bird of prey. One can hardly feel any true compassion for their would-be murderer."

Shards of Alderaan, Mara thought exasperatedly. This has to stop. Unfortunately, there was only one apparent way to change the status quo here.

So gritting her teeth, she very carefully, very slowly, laid her blaster on the ground. His eyes flickered in surprise, but he did not move.

"I'm not here to murder you," she stated quietly. "Luke and I came here because his political and my corporate responsibilities coincide at this place. He needed my help to placate an affronted government, while I needed his help, apparently," her mouth quirked into a wry smile, "to aid and abet the affronters." He did not look convinced. That the blaster did not move only served to emphasize this impression. "Milo," she said uncertainly, trying a different tack, "Milo, the Emperor is dead. All of him." She took a deep breath. "That includes his Hand."

The blaster wavered almost imperceptibly. Encouraged, she opened her mouth to continue, but he cut her off.

"Do you know who else is dead, Jade?" he asked quietly. "Kade's parents. Every soul on Alderaan. The…" his jaw worked, "the entire Jedi order. And billions upon billions of other innocents across the galaxy. One man, Palpatine was, a simple carbon-based organism like the rest of us. He is dead, yes. Like all of his victims. But Ms. Jade, you of all people should know just how little the physical act of dying is tied to the death of ideology." Mara froze; how much did he know? "How about your traveling companion, for a case in point," he continued, and all of a sudden she could not breathe. No one, no one knew of her dreams except for the Skywalkers. How… "The Jedi were so much compost before he could walk. And now we see their rebirth in him." She allowed herself an imperceptible sigh. "Alderaan lives on in his sister. A part of Kade's family is in him. So I must ask, how much of the Emperor remains in you? No. Don't answer that." He took a step closer, fingers shifting to grasp the blaster more securely.

Mara didn't know what surprised her more—the intensity of the hate in his eyes…or the tears running out of them.

"You've won, Ms. Jade. Please attempt to understand that fact. Your side effectively and efficiently destroyed everything my wife and I ever cared for years ago. Now you bring ghosts of them to taunt us before you finish your last uncompleted mission?" He gestured toward the front of the house. "Do you have the slightest idea how much it hurt to see that boy in our living room and remember all over again? Do you—"
"I do. Believe me," Mara cut in, dreading where this was going. "It hurts," she said lowly, ignoring the angry skepticism on his face, "because you weren't my last mission. He was."

Milo brought his head up sharply at that.

"We are more alike than you'd want to believe," she continued. "My life was torn out from under me, too. Luke is the living reminder of everything I've lost…and my greatest failure. Don't flatter yourself that you two were it. It was my Master's last command to kill him. And oh, I wanted to. If you are as bitter as you say you are, you'll understand. I didn't have somebody to care for like you and your wife did. For years, all that kept me going was my hatred, and that final, all-too powerful compulsion." She closed her eyes, forcibly driving back the stampede of unwelcome memories. Another long silence fell; the story didn't need to be finished. Skywalker's very presence was ending enough.

"I dreamed I would kill him," she said finally, without opening her eyes. "It didn't happen. "I've been dreaming again now…"

"That you'll kill us?"

"No," she retorted, chagrined that she had let that slip. Her dreams were no one's business. "But I'm starting to wonder if they never happened either." She sighed deeply. "I'm Mara Jade, employee of Talon Karrde and temporary emissary of the New Republic. I came here to pick up a package and give Skywalker a hand. Not to assassinate your family."

"And why exactly should I believe you?" A dozen sarcastic replies sprang to Mara's lips. For some reason, she bit them all back and simply told the truth.

"I don't know."

His eyes narrowed to calculating slits—then snapped with energy as he made his decision.

"No time to waste, then," he said, tossing Mara her blaster and striding away quickly. "Your young Jedi friend won't be able to hold the Kolies for long." Mara caught it and rubbed her wrist; his fingers had left throbbing imprints on her skin- and deeper ones on her pride. He paused at the wall, fingers sliding along a nearly invisible crack, and without further ado, an entrance to a tunnel hissed up. She followed him inside, noting with annoyance that her main occupation on this 'mission' seemed to be tagging along at someone's heels. A most un-Mara like activity.

"Listen up, now," he called over his shoulder. "The deal with Karrde is that we would get the bantha off-planet to an old cache of ours, and he would provide us with a means to get off ourselves since our ship isn't equipped for Kade's needs. Once we're on your ship, I'll give you the coordinates to the cache. Then—"

At that moment, the tunnel exploded.

When Mara came to, here inner time sense told her she had only been out for a few minutes. She sat up, gingerly touching the bloody lump on the back of her head, and looked around.

"Shavit," she breathed.

The tunnel was a ruin of debris, barely navigable, now. And Milo was—dead? She crawled over to him and felt for a pulse…there. Rocking back on her heels, she brushed a strand of hair out her eyes and let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. He was only unconscious.

Then she saw the datacard lying a meter away. It must have been thrown from his pocket, she thought, picking it up. A smile curved over her face as she took a cursory glance over its contents.

"Jackpot," she said softly, and pocketed it. Now to get the woman and boy out of this hellhole. She'd come back for Milo when his family was safe—and when she decided how best to use this little morsel of information.

It took her a painfully long time to pick her way through the collapsing house and find Kade's room, and by the time she did, her danger sense nearly had her hyperventilating.

"Package ready yet?" she threw at Taa-Milo as she bounded in the door. "Because this flight is taking an early departure." The woman cocked her head, hand resting on a satchel.

"Is that so…" she murmured, glancing at Mara's pocket. "Do you hear that, Ms. Jade?"

"Mmm, do I hear the class-A artillery blowing up over my head? Why no, I…"

"Quiet!" Slightly shocked, Mara complied. In the silence, she heard it. Something was beeping.

Taa-Milo sighed. "You took it, didn't you?" Mara couldn't bring herself to meet the sorrow in the other's eyes. "Is he dead?"

"No!" Mara said exasperatedly. "I didn't kill him."

"I didn't ask that." Mara looked up then, and after a moment, she understood. Taa-Milo believed in her. She always had, even…then.

Like Luke.

The Force had led her to Luke. Why was it leading her here?

"He's unconscious. And yes, I took the coordinates." Taa-Milo released the satchel and folded her hands…almost in resignation.

"Then there's something you should know. They are heavily encrypted, and were in a case designed to protect them from theft. There is a code that allows the case to be opened safely, but only my husband knows it. In the even that the datacard is removed from the case without the code being entered, it will self-destruct rather spectacularly. In approximately…" she glanced at the chrono on the wall, thinking. "Five minutes, I'd say."

Mara's mind raced, considering her options. Five minutes was time enough to get back to the tunnel and put the datacard back into the case. The code wouldn't matter; Ghent could slice it like butter. But…

She looked at Taa-Milo, hands folded, eyes so terribly sad. And at Kade, still shifting and moaning restlessly—Kade, whose disconcertingly familiar Force-sense whispered to her so strongly of mystery and unfulfilled promises…or simply unfulfilled promise...

She made her decision with characteristic swiftness.

"I'm a damn fool," she growled, tossing the datacard to the floor, and for the second time that day, ground common sense under heel. Literally. With one longing glance at the twisted remains of the datacard on the floor, she stiffened her shoulders and strode over to Kade's bed. "Come on," she snapped at Taa-Milo. "Help me here. Well? Expect me to haul him all the way to the docking bay on the other side of Sjrilaya myself?

"Yes," Taa-Milo whispered. Mara glanced up sharply, startled. Sinking to the floor, the woman smiled sadly and peeled open the housecoat she wore clutched about her tightly.

Its lining was sticky with blood.

"I see," Mara said shortly. She paused for a moment. "How do you expect me to get him out, then? He's the size of a grown man."

"I know Jedi when I see them." Taa-Milo's voice was serene, assured. Mara shook her head.

"I'm no Jedi. That would be Skywalker out there, Force-talking the angry mob. You know, the one with the fancy lightsaber and infuriating composure."

"Jedi are not defined by the weapons they carry, or even the mannerisms they adopt. What you did there," she inclined her head towards the shattered bits of glass and plastic on the floor, "Was the act of a Jedi." Another blast rocked the house, sending down a shower of crumbled plaster from the ceiling.

"I'd love to stay and continue this riveting conversation all day," Mara stepped to the side, dodging a chunk the size of her fist, "But unfortunately, I've got to run. Now, how do you suggest I get him out?"

"The Force," Taa-Milo replied simply.

"Are you sure you haven't got a touch of it yourself?" Mara muttered, exasperated. "Or maybe you're a long-lost close relation of Skywalker. They pop up rather frequently." The nagging of danger in the back of her mind grew more strident; time was running out. "Alright, let's give it a shot," she sighed, and began to clear her mind the way Skywalker showed in that half-remembered, hastily given crash-course in the forests of Wayland.

It was one thing to feel the Force flowing through her, to be a passive observer in the great sea that crashed upon and immersed all things. It was another thing altogether to reach out to it, grasp the strands sliding through her fingers and coax them to do her will. Not for the last time, she cursed the Emperor for stunting her self-control.

It took a long time- nearly too long, but at last, Mara reached out a loosely curled hand, eyes half-closed and unfocused. Ever so slowly, Kade Milo, bed and all, floated up from the floor, cradled gently but solidly by an invisible cushion.

Mara never saw the pale smile that spread across his adoptive mother's face.

It had been hard, maintaining the level of concentration to levitate Kade all the way back to the freighter, then do the same for Mikal Milo, all the while cloaking herself well enough to avoid notice. It didn't make sense…but somehow, deep in Mara's soul, she was at peace. It was worth it. Now she gazed down at Syunni Taa-Milo, at the woman's colorless face, at her chest rising in ever-shallower breaths, and wondered.

"We were foolish to take a job at our age, and shamed to descend to the level of common thieves." Taa-Milo's voice was strangely even for someone in such obvious pain. "But we needed the credits. Kade's care is expensive, and our stores are dwindling." Somehow, without moving, she managed to convey the impression of a shrug. "As I'm sure you know, Talon Karrde compensates well."

"Is that boy worth it?" For once, Mara's voice was free from any trace of sarcasm. Only questions. "Allow me to be blunt. For him you gave up your career, money, everything. You have no life outside of caring for Kade, and though you may delude yourself into thinking otherwise, he has no life at all." Mara tore a final strip from the blanket and peeled back the woman's tunic. One look at the ugly wound told her that the time for makeshift bandages was long past. A strange sorrow accompanied the knowledge.

"Is it worth it?" she repeated, and an incomprehensible urgency rose in her to hear the answer. In the back of her mind, she was aware of Skywalker struggling to hold the people at the gate and of the need to get back to the ship, but irrationally, everything dwindled in importance to Syunni Milo's answer.

The woman tilted her head slightly to look Mara full in the face, drawing in a ragged breath at the pain.

"You must understand, Ms. Jade. When Mikal and I found Kade lying on filthy floor of a target's home, we had lost everything but each other. The Republic had fallen, the Jedi had fallen, and with them our purpose, our life. That broken little child restored both. He was so small…" Her glazed eyes drifted closed, but her calm, silky voice only grew smoother. "We always believed in the Force; I suppose that's inevitable in a close association with Jedi. It is my fondest belief…" her voice sank to an almost inaudible level. "It is my fondest belief that it was the will of the Force we found him, that we sustained his life." Her smile was weak, and Mara did her best to ignore the trickle of blood at the corners of her mouth. "Our destiny, you might say. Yes, Mara. It has always been worth it."

Mara Jade had witnessed death more times than she liked to remember, and she knew now that Syunni's time was almost up. The dying woman's eyes fluttered open.

Mara found herself distantly curious about what she would say. A profession of love for her family? A nugget of pithy wisdom? A platitude about the Force?

"Don't forget to take the cloths. You'll need them until Mikal can take over Kade's care again." And then Syunni Taa-Milo died.