They'd gotten a later start than planned, but Leia, Winter, and General Kenobi—Ben, Leia reminded herself—reached the outskirts of Mos Eisley by late morning. At his insistence, Ben had driven the speeder while Leia and Winter caught him up on what they knew of the Death Star, and the Alliance's current status and strategies. Although he'd mostly listened in silence, his occasional comments revealed a sharp mind that didn't match his raggedy appearance, and Leia was beginning to feel almost relieved despite everything. Whatever else had happened, she had found General Kenobi, and he would certainly be a great help to the Alliance in the fight against the Empire.

Her cautious optimism lasted until they reached the docking bay where she and Winter had left their ship.

The empty docking bay.

"No," Winter breathed as they pulled in.

Leia stared, climbed out of the speeder and inspected the entire bay as though the ship might be hiding in the shadows, then swore viciously.

"Now, Leia," Ben said with what Leia could almost believe was amusement.

"But our ship!"

Ben shrugged. "Mos Eisley's reputation as a hive of scum and villainy is well-deserved. The other side of that coin is that we'll find many a pilot for hire in the cantinas."

"We can't take a hired pilot to the base," Leia protested.

"No," Ben agreed. "But we can hire someone to take us to another planet, to a city perhaps less crime-riddled than this one, and without an Imperial garrison overlooking everything, and get a new ship there. I knew Mon Mothma well once, and she would never have let you go on an important mission without sufficient credits to cover even such a setback as this."

"Credits aren't an issue," Leia admitted.

"Well, then," Ben said with a note of finality. "Come, girls. I know of a small restaurant that served excellent food last I was here, and breakfast was a long time ago. We'll get some lunch, and then find a pilot. All will be well, Leia. The Force is with us, I can feel it."

I'd rather the Force had been with Alderaan, Leia thought bitterly, but there was no point in saying it aloud. And she was hungry. Mad, but hungry.

"All right," she said with a sigh, and climbed back into the speeder. "Let's go get lunch."

Mara wound her way through the smoke-filled cantina, crowded even at this early hour. Various sets of eyes glanced over to assess her before flicking away; she met each of them with the same indifferently threatening air they offered her. She reached the bar and leaned against it. "Two brandies," she told the bartender, then turned away to scan the room—casually, she thought, and had to bite her lip against a grin.

"Hey there, pateesa," a voice said from behind her, and Mara turned to see a grubby-looking human male a few meters over, probably a decade older and a couple of heads taller than her, leering in her direction. She looked him contemptuously up and down, then turned away. The sound of footsteps approached and a hand came down on her shoulder. "That's not very friendly of you, now, is it?"

The bitter smell of spice hung around him, along with other even less pleasant odors. Mara looked at him very deliberately. "Ee chu ta."

His bloodshot eyes narrowed. "Pateesa, someone needs to teach you some manners."

He grabbed her wrist, and without hesitation Mara yanked that arm down with all her strength, bending him over slightly as he hung on to her. Using his hold as leverage, she swung the edge of her other hand hard into his throat, then brought a knee up into his stomach. He doubled over, letting go of her wrist as he gasped, and Mara dropped into a crouched spin, swinging her leg around to catch him behind the knees.

He went down hard, the thud echoing, and all eyes came back to Mara, who stood back up and gazed around, waiting for the eyes to flick away again.

After only a moment, they did; places like this saw brawls too often to be impressed by a quick exchange like that. The bartender set her drinks in front of her as though nothing had happened, and Mara handed over a credit chip. "Keep the change."

She hadn't seen where Luke had gone, but his Force sense would have been a beacon to her even if it hadn't been incandescent with amusement. She followed the sense to a small table at the edge of the room and set the brandies down. "Quit smirking," she muttered.

"No, no," Luke said, barely suppressing his grin. "Not smirking. Admiring. That was very casually done."

Mara took a sip of brandy to hide the quirk of her lips. "Oh, shut up."

"I suddenly feel very fortunate you didn't floor me in that ballroom when we first met."

"And risk tearing my gown?" Mara asked, scanning the room. "Don't drink more than a few sips, we don't know how many times we're going to have to repeat this whole routine."

"Including or excluding you beating up random patrons?"

"Random, nothing. No one else grabbed me."

"That's a fair point," Luke agreed, sipping his drink. "By the way, try not to touch the tabletop. I don't think it's been washed in our lifetimes."

Mara wrinkled her nose. "Nothing in here has. Including the guy who grabbed me. Any sign of them?"

"Not that I've seen so far," Luke answered, his eyes scanning the crowd. "Should we stay here, or move on to the next?"

"Let's give it ten or fifteen minutes," Mara said. "It really should be an hour or two for a proper surveillance session, but there's just too much ground to cover in too little time." She took another sip and surreptitiously glanced around again. "The odds really aren't with us here, you know."

"No," Luke agreed thoughtfully. "But it still feels like we're on the right path, somehow."

Mara swirled her glass, watching the dim light glint off the brandy. "The problem with that," she pointed out, "is that even if we're interpreting this correctly as some sort of direction from the Force, we still don't know exactly what it is we're doing that's right. Or if the right conclusion to this path leads to Organa, or away from her."

Luke tilted his head in a half-shrug. "You're right, but I don't know how to narrow the feeling down any more than that."

"Me either," Mara said with a sigh. "For now we stick with the plan. If we don't find them today, we hold another planning session tonight, and decide whether to stay on Tatooine another day or head somewhere else. Pull out your datapad, will you, and double check the map. Let's see exactly where we are, and pick the next few cantinas to visit."

They were passing an intersection on their way to the third cantina of the day when Luke started to turn right instead of going straight, pulling Mara to a stop in the process. They both turned to look at each other, still holding hands.

"We're going this way," Mara said, tugging his hand slightly.

Luke frowned and looked in the direction he'd turned. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

He still didn't move, gazing down the street to the right. "I think we should go this way first." His eyes came back to her. "Just a hunch."

Mara looked down the street, back at him, then closed her eyes and tried to listen for whatever subtle whispers the Force was offering. "I don't feel anything that specific."

"I do, Mara. Really. I don't know why, but we have to go this way."

She opened her eyes and tilted her head at him. "I guess I'm following you, then."

They turned down the street and walked for another block, with Luke's eyes only half focused as he concentrated, and Mara guiding him to avoid collisions with other pedestrians. Eventually Luke stopped and looked around, then jerked his chin toward a smallish building set a little further back from the road than its neighbors. "There. We need to go in there."

Mara thought back to the map they'd consulted in the first cantina. "That wasn't on our list. I don't think it's a cantina."

Luke was looking at the building with a strange intensity. "I don't understand it, Mara. I just know it's calling."

Mara watched him, feeling a shiver go up her spine. "Okay. Let's go check it out."

He turned to her, eyebrows slightly lifted. "Casual?"

"I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

"Nope," he said, squeezing her hand.

Mara shook her head fondly. "Casual, but not cantina casual. This place looks more respectable—an actual restaurant, I think. We just landed at the port, supply run from Sullust for our employer. Sick of ship's rations, looking for something with local flavor."

"I have such a talented wife," he said, smiling at her.

She returned the smile, a warm glow spreading through her. Talk about letting herself get distracted on a mission, she thought. Her childhood tutors would have been appalled. "Don't get all mushy. We're still on the clock."

He gestured with their joined hands. "After you."

They strode into the building with Mara in the lead, looking around with open interest rather than the detachment she'd shown in the cantinas. It was indeed a small restaurant, with a scattering of tables and a counter toward the back with a holo menu on the wall above it, where you apparently placed your order and carried your own food back. Mara eyed the menu as though weighing her options, then glanced around the room. It was beginning to fill up for the midday rush, with only a few tables left open. They should take one and pretend to discuss the menu, that would give them a few minutes to scan the place…

"Mara," Luke said quietly. "Starboard, thirty degrees."

She looked that way, sweeping her gaze smoothly as if searching for an empty table. A dark-haired young woman sat alone, looking back over her shoulder to see who'd entered. Her eyes met Mara's, weighed her briefly, then went back to the datapad in front of her.

It was Leia Organa.

"I'll be Kesseled," Mara muttered, continuing her sweeping assessment of the room as though nothing had happened. She turned back to Luke and smiled sweetly. "Over here, I think. What looks good to you?" She guided him to an empty table several meters behind Organa, and sat down, pulling him with her. Stay here unless I call you. Luke nodded, and Mara stood again. "I think I'll go get a closer look at the menu. I'll be right back."

She walked toward the counter with the menu above it, passing right next to Organa's table, and bumped into the empty chair that was next to her. Organa jumped slightly and looked up at her.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Mara said brightly. "Not paying nearly enough attention—I'm absolutely starving. Is there anything you recommend here?"

Organa glanced toward the counter, then back at Mara. "Um, no, sorry. First time here."

"Just at this restaurant, or Tatooine itself?" Mara asked. "Because let me tell you, this heat is something else." She dropped into the chair she'd bumped into, making a show of fanning herself with her hand. "I don't know how the locals stand it. Hopefully I'll be leaving soon, just have to pick up some cargo."

"Right," Organa said, looking at her datapad again, clearly determined to avoid a prolonged conversation with this overly friendly stranger.

"And meet someone," Mara added. "Fortunately she's right here. Hello, Leia."

Organa jolted and looked at her sharply.

"Steady," Mara murmured. "We're all friends here."

"Somehow I doubt that," Organa replied, glancing coolly at the counter again, then back at Mara.

"I want to join the Rebellion," Mara said quietly. "I don't know how to contact anyone else to ask. You're my only hope."

Organa's eyes narrowed. "How did you know where to find me? And why should I trust you?"

"Because I'm a high level Imperial agent, sent to assassinate you. And I'm risking my own life by defying that order and telling you about it."

"Sounds like a decent cover story to infiltrate the Alliance as a spy," Organa murmured.

Mara's throat tightened. "Yes. But it's not. I don't know how else to convince you."

An older man wearing a cloak with a deep hood smoothly joined Organa, setting a plate before her, then one in front of his own chair. He was followed by Winter Retrac, who was carrying another plate and eyeing Mara with alarm. "I see we have a guest," the man said.

Mara grimaced. She'd thought Organa was alone; an amateur mistake that might cost them all their only chance. Retrac was a known factor, she could have worked with that, but she had no idea who this man was or how to continue this discussion with him as a part of it.

Organa saved her the trouble of deciding. "This is a high level Imperial agent sent to assassinate me, or so she says."

"She left out the part where I said I was disobeying that order," Mara said.

"Oh, yes," Organa added, looking at Mara again, then back at the old man. "Apparently she also wants to join the Alliance. Because that's not an obvious enough ploy."

The old man's eyes rested thoughtfully on Mara, and she had the unsettling sense that he was looking into her soul. "Is that so?"

"It's a genuine request," Mara insisted quietly. "Not everyone in the Empire agrees with its recent actions. There are three others with me who are also defecting. Is there somewhere we can go for this interrogation in private? I should be the only undercover Imperial agent here right now, but that's hardly something you'd want to bet on. And as I said, my companions and I are risking our own lives trying to join you."

"Where are your companions?" the old man asked.

Mara beckoned Luke through the Force and felt his acknowledgement. "They're on their way," she began, then stopped to look more intently at the old man, whose eyes were sharp on her now. Had he sensed that ripple in the Force? But that would mean…

Organa glanced back and forth between them; opened her mouth to speak—

Luke stepped up beside Mara just then, and the old man glanced over at the same moment as Luke noticed him.

"Luke?"

"Ben?"

They stared at each other as the other three stared at them, then the old man murmured to Organa, "They're safe. We need to speak with them further." He looked up at Luke. "Have a seat, my boy."

Luke looked at Mara, then sat down beside her. "Is this really where we should be having this conversation?"

"No," Mara said pointedly.

The old man gave her a smile far too knowing for the circumstances, then looked back to Luke. "It's good to see you, Luke. I didn't expect to see you on Tatooine again."

"I didn't expect to be back," Luke answered somewhat warily.

The old man took a bite of his food, seeming entirely unaffected by the clear tension of everyone else at the table. "Winter, my dear, perhaps you could get us some boxes to take our meals with us? We may be leaving in a moment."

Retrac stood, glancing uncertainly toward Organa, then went back to the counter.

"Luke," the old man said, "Perhaps you and your companion would like to order something as well, to take with us?"

Luke blinked. "Um." He glanced again at Mara. "No, thanks, Ben. We have food on our ship."

"Ah," the old man said with a nod. "You have a ship. That is excellent news. Will it hold three more passengers, do you think? And did you intend to stay long?"

Organa snapped her head around to stare at the old man. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, indeed I am, my dear. Luke and I are old friends. Isn't that right, son?"

Luke hesitated, just noticeably. "Yes."

Mara raised her eyebrows at him, and the old man chuckled. "Yes, I know what your uncle said of me. He wasn't entirely wrong, but neither was he entirely correct. Luke," he said more quietly, "I am terribly sorry about your aunt and uncle, and for what you went through at that time. I didn't know of it until after you had left Anchorhead. I would have tried to ease the burden for you as much as I could have, had I known in time."

"Thank you," Luke said quietly.

Retrac returned to the table with some boxes and a bag, and the old man smiled at her. "Thank you, my dear. You're sure you won't order anything yourselves?" he asked, turning toward Luke and Mara again. "I can recommend it."

Luke watched him sliding his food into a box, and said, "Actually, is that bantha milk custard?"

The old man smiled. "Of course. They also have excellent ahrisa here, and fresh lamta."

"Okay," Luke said. "Mara, you really do have to try that. I'll be right back."

"You have got to be kidding me," Mara said to no one in particular, as Luke headed toward the ordering counter and the old man, Organa, and Retrac continued boxing their food, Organa watching Mara warily the whole time.

"My dear," the old man said to her as he placed their boxes into the bag Retrac had brought, "Didn't you say you had three companions?"

Mara hesitated—nothing at all about this had gone as she would have expected, and for a moment she wondered if she should grab Luke, head back to the ship without Organa and Retrac and their bizarre friend, and just pick some remote planet to start a new life on. But it seemed they were well and truly committed to this encounter now, and besides, however cautious Luke seemed, he hadn't once felt genuinely alarmed or worried in the Force. Whatever his history with this odd man whose courtly manners made her think far more of the Imperial Palace than Mos Eisley, it wasn't a contentious one. "Yes."

"Perhaps you'd like to call the others to meet us at your ship? If I know Luke, he's getting food for all four of you, and I'd hate for their meal to get cold."

Mara had been rendered speechless very few times in her life, but this was definitely one of them. She looked over at the counter, and sure enough, Luke was handing a credit chip to one employee while another stacked four boxes in a bag. Mara had the strangest feeling that she had somehow slipped into another reality. "Um, can I just talk to Luke for a minute first?"

"But of course—Mara, wasn't it?"

"Yes," she said, standing as she eyed him. "Ben?"

"Indeed," he said with another odd smile.

Mara nodded slowly, and went to meet Luke just as he had accepted the bag of food and thanked the employee who'd handed it to him. "Luke," she said. "Are we really taking them back to the ship?"

Luke took her arm and led her a few steps away to the restaurant wall, away from the other patrons. "Isn't that what we always intended to do?"

Mara glanced back at the table she'd just left. The others were just standing up. Retrac took the bag from Ben, who smiled at her, while Organa never took her eyes off Mara. Mara looked back at Luke, at a loss for words.

"Mara," Luke said softly, "I have no idea what Ben is doing with Organa, but I've known him my whole life. It's not like we were close or anything, but he's always lived near Anchorhead; my aunt and uncle knew him well. We can trust him. And we specifically came here to make contact with Organa, and here she is."

"I know," Mara said. "I know."

Luke set the bag down and took her shoulders. "The Force guided us here, Mara. To Tatooine, to Mos Eisley, to this restaurant where we found them all. I think we should take them back to the ship, yes. I think it's what we were supposed to do all along. You don't sense anything wrong with that course, do you?"

"No," she admitted.

"Well, then." He leaned a little closer to her, sliding his hands down her arms to hold her hands. "If it makes you feel any better, if they come on board our ship instead of the other way around, we're the ones with control. The three of them couldn't overpower you, let alone all of us. If we don't come to an understanding you like, we can drop them off somewhere and go our own way, nothing lost."

Mara took a deep breath. She really didn't sense anything wrong, not specifically. And everything Luke said was perfectly logical. What was even the point of all of this if they found Organa only to walk away before getting a real chance to join the Rebellion? Her growing unease was probably just a combination of the very real threat of being AWOL right within a garrison's sights and being thrown off balance by Ben's odd composure. She'd always had a sharp danger sense; she would know if this nebulous foreboding transformed into a real threat. She took out her comm and keyed Tycho's code.

The click of connection sounded as someone on the other end picked up, then: "Celchu."

"Tycho, it's Mara. We've found them. Meet us back at the ship as quickly as you can get there without looking suspicious."

"Casually," Luke added, and Mara made a face at him.

"Acknowledged," Tycho said, and the connection cut out.

Mara took a breath, looking back up at Luke, who kept hold of her hand and picked up their bag of food. "It's okay. I'm sure it is. Come on, let's go get all this sorted out." He met Ben's eyes and tilted his head toward the door, then led Mara that way. Outside, they waited the few seconds it took for the others to catch up. "This way," Luke said when they did, and started back toward the spaceport. Mara felt Organa's eyes boring into her back all the way, and was unable to shake the feeling of an impending storm.