Chapter 3

He'd been quiet for a while, studying the slab of droid carefully. The insignia painted on a piece of its torso seemed familiar to him somehow. He'd scoured the data banks, but couldn't seem to find a match. I was grateful for the time out of Tatooine's blasted suns. Everything I did now seemed to have an extra edge of fatigue, but I wasn't about to admit to that. Instead, I looked as busy as I could, running maintenance checklists, once, twice, three times.

After a few hours of almost silence, he broke it in one breath.

"Echo Drivers," he half mumbled to himself.

"Echo what?" I asked, swiveling my chair to glance at him.

"A gang, a local gang."

"As in the thieves who just tried to kill us?"

He nodded, a distant look in his eyes. "It's been so many years, I hardly recognized it..."

I half-smiled. "Old friends of yours, Luke?"

"Hardly," he scoffed, some old hint of intimidation in his voice. "They were known to be ruthless! Their existence at all was mostly down to just a collection of stories and strange crimes."

I shrugged casually, reminding him he wasn't the nephew of a moisture farmer he used to be. "I don't know, they didn't seem so tough to me? I mean, those old droids must have come from a junkyard. Certainly nothing a Jedi couldn't handle, let alone two."

He sighed. "I guess you're right..." Then he looked back up at me, that same flicker of worry flashing through his emotions. This time I didn't take offense, just ignored it altogether.

"But, if you ask me," I volunteered. "That nervous guy at the auction house knew all about them. In fact, I bet he knew there were eyes on the place."

"That would explain why we were attacked so shortly afterward."

I stood, stretching my legs. "But there is one way to find out. Let's go see if he's any more talkative now."

Luke hesitated again, this time so obviously that it was hard to just ignore.

The second turned into ten as the awkward silence lingered between us. I opened my mouth, at last, to say something, only to be cut off by his own statement. "Okay, let's go then…" he softly surrendered.

But as he walked past me, he left a trail of emotions in his wake. The curiosity of a Jedi trinket was starting to lose its appeal. Replaced by all the old man worry of parenthood and keeping me safe. It was ironic…I hadn't wanted to go on this little venture to begin with, but now I was wishing his childish enthusiasm would resurface.

But I didn't mention any of that. Why bother when our emotions were already debating the topic wordlessly?

A debate that eventually ended unresolved as we arrived at the auction house again. Which, by the way, was as empty and picked clean as a carcass.

"Looks like they wanted to get out in a hurry." I almost laughed. "What a surprise, right?"

Luke sighed in resignation, or possibly relief, I wasn't quite sure which. Our trail was turning cold, which might have been what he preferred under the circumstances. But I didn't like it, not because I really cared about Karrde's rock or the Jedi wisdom Luke hoped it contained. No, it was about my pride, and I was big enough to admit it. At least…to myself.

"Let me see that," I asked, gesturing toward the droid part he was still carrying. He handed it over with a puzzled look on his face.

"Look, if you really want results, sometimes you have to take the direct approach. Follow me, Farmboy."

He did, but not without concern and a bit of unspoken frustration leaking through his mental walls. Feelings that only doubled when I led us into the local drinking joint.

The air inside the cantina was somehow both musky and dry; more than a dozen alien gazes fell on us as we stepped in. Marching boldly over to the counter, I dropped the droid part on it with a loud thud. Even the few eyes that hadn't cared about our arrival were now entranced. A few hands slipped down to their blasters, preparing for trouble.

The bartender was the last to turn, apparently so hardened to loudmouths and trouble he was all but numb. What passed for his eyebrows raised. "Yes?" he asked in a sluggish form of basic.

"Recognize this?" I asked, pointing down to the droid insignia. "Someone just tried to kill us with these droids," I said purposely loud enough for the rest of the bar to overhear. "Any idea who they might belong to?"

I focused my senses on the room around us, expecting someone to take the bait. Half expecting a blaster bolt to be the answer. But even if it were, it would heat up our trail again. And that…was all I wanted at the moment. For better or worse…

"Lady," the bartender breathed in a weary sigh. "This planet is full of droids, and most of them try to kill people."

He had a point, but the bait was already set. Scanning the room mentally I tried to detect any trace of telling worry or anger in the minds of the guests. Anything that seemed to have a deceptive edge. Just a hint could be enough to point us in the right direction. Give us a suspect or a source of information. Or the odds could win out and no one even remotely helpful or involved could be present.

As the waves of emotion rippled back to me, mundane and useless, I almost felt embarrassed. But not a trace of the feeling appeared on my face. Instead, I coolly sat down at the counter. "Yes, but not everyone is stupid enough to sign their killer droids."

The bartender poured Luke and me a drink. "I think most of them figure it'll be the last thing you see anyway. Though…" He eyed us knowingly. "I don't imagine they've dealt with many Jedi…"

I swirled the liquor in my glass, making a show but not taking a sip. I wasn't about to ask for water in a place like this…

"Who's they?" Luke asked, catching the same point.

The bartender leaned in close. "Trouble, that's who. But you should know that better than anyone," he said, throwing another look at the dismembered droid.

"The Echo Driver gang?" Luke baited him further.

But the tender just smiled. "Never heard of them, I'm afraid."

It was a lie, that much we both knew instantly, but there wasn't any deeper deception behind it. He was just smart enough to keep his mouth shut and his head down. I figured that was the only reason he was still alive in this line of work. Whatever he knew, he wasn't about to share it.

Which meant…we were at a dead end all over again.

This time, Luke's relief was obvious. Standing, he paid for our drinks and headed toward the door.

"Thanks anyway," I nodded at the bartender as I stood to follow.

"Any time," he called back, a tone that really meant: I hope I don't see either of you ever again.

We were halfway down the street when Luke finally broke the silence. A silence that was getting too regular.

"That was rather reckless, don't you think?" His tone was a mild reprimand, but I pretended I only heard the question.

"No," I shrugged. "It was worth a shot at least, it could have led somewhere."

Luke sighed, his frustrations blending into weariness. For a second, I almost felt sorry for him.

"Am I getting to you?" I teased softly.

"No more than usual," he gently quipped. But we both knew that wasn't exactly true… He'd learned a long time ago to trust me to take care of myself. That under normal circumstances, my risks usually paid off. But now wasn't really normal circumstances, were they…?

That was the last thing I wanted to admit to myself, but all the same….

It was true.

A brief war went on inside me, one I assumed he was mostly a witness to.

"So what now?" I asked, taking the fall, giving him an easy way out. "It's a dead-end…isn't it?"

"It seems that way," he agreed, trying not to sound relieved.

"So," I surrendered. "Let's go home." I tried to keep my pride intact. "No offense, but I hate your home world."

He smiled, reaching for my hand. "None taken…" he whispered as we fell into another silence. This one not quite so awkward, just…difficult. For me, anyway. To admit being vulnerable was like chewing hull.

But he didn't bring it up, at least not verbally. I was glad, because even his reassurances would have been wasted on me. I rathered not talk about it at all…

I expected him to keep his emotional distance from my lousy mood, but it didn't seem to faze him. Instead, I could feel the ripples of warmth and excitement as we left the dusty planet behind. I'd never known him to be so happy about failing a mission. But he seemed more than content just with our being alive after it. As if his mind and heart were preoccupied with all the new possibilities now in sight.

I watched the stars fade into lines. With no errand for Karrde to distract us, we'd be facing it head-on now.

Because ready or not, our lives were never going to be the same again.


The trip back to Coruscant was quiet and uneventful. Nothing more than another span of time to think in. Our separate but similar lines of thought bled into one, but neither of us questioned why the other was reacting as they were. No, instead we just let each other be. Him to his happiness and me to…well, whatever I was feeling. Happiness was part of what I was feeling, it was just buried under so many other emotions it was hard to find.

In a way, I was glad when Coruscant came back into view. Not just for the desperate need to rest up, but for hopefully some sort of distraction. We were always busy, someone always needed something from us. At least, I hoped they would now…

But those hopes diminished with each quiet passing day. Days that I spent with a lump in my throat, eclipsed by his simple happiness. The words I still felt I needed to say were lost, and I figured I'd never find them at this point.

The next morning, my bleary eyes opened to the familiar sight of our bedroom ceiling. The sound of light rain was pattering against the windows. His presence was gone from beside me, now somewhere down the hall. The chrono reminded me it was too early to even be alive, but he'd always been a morning person. I assumed he was meditating the way he usually did each morning, but his thoughts weren't so still. Instead, he seemed preoccupied with something, nothing worrying, just something pleasantly mundane.

I smirked. I guessed you couldn't grow up in a place as boring as Tatooine without developing a taste for the average.

After getting dressed, I slipped down the hall toward him. Standing in the doorway of a side storage room, I watched him shuffling containers. Rummaging and rearranging.

"You're honestly up this early for interior design…?" I muttered, still half asleep.

He glanced at me with a smile. "Good morning, Mara."

I just grunted something in reply.

"Do you want some caf?" he asked. "I mean decaf caf, but still."

I rolled my eyes. "What good is that? That's like asking for dry water." I sighed playfully. "What is it with babies anyway, don't they realize caffeine and the occasional alcohol is all that's holding us adults together?"

He laughed, that same innocent happiness in his voice. I almost had to squint against the bright emotional rays. I didn't know why, but his joy made me wince. Maybe it was the obvious comparison between his emotions and mine? If that was any indication of how we'd each fair as parents, I was on the losing end of the competition.

His smile faded slightly as whispers of my feelings drifted over to him, but he didn't address it. Instead, he started to explain what he was doing in the first place.

"I thought this room would work well for him, with a little effort anyway. Maybe change the color of the walls, and of course, move all this junk out."

I nodded, only half catching what else he'd said. My mind was focused on just one word.

"You said him, can you tell?" I asked softly.

He blinked in confusion for a moment before smiling gently. "Yes, can you?"

I nodded again. "Yeah… Guess I might have doubted it a little, but not if you can feel it too."

Luke's face looked suddenly reverent. "He has such a presence, he must be very strong in the force."

I scoffed. "What choice does he have with us for parents?"

"Fair point. Though…" He took on an almost sad expression. "He will have a choice about what he wants to do with it. I won't force him to follow the path we've chosen."

"To be a Jedi?" I asked, without giving him time to answer. "Well, the way I see it, being a Jedi just means using the force and doing your best to help people. By that token, he will be one, without a doubt." I shrugged. "If I can be, anyone can. After all, I'm living proof that Jedi now means something a lot different than it did in the old order."

"Do you think it's better now," he asked thoughtfully. "The order we're building, I mean?"

It was way too early to discuss Jedi philosophy, but I knew it was a touchy subject for him. Being the new founder and all, he always wondered if he was doing it right. Especially considering he'd already broken rule number one by marrying me.

I crossed my arms, my face sure about one thing at least. "Better depends I guess, some stuffy monk would probably like it the old way. But I'd sure hate it, and a lot of other people would too. Giving up any attachment to anyone, just so you can learn to move stuff with your mind? Not a great trade-off if you ask me."

He didn't bother to correct me, to say that the force was a little more complex than that. Instead, he seemed to deflate with relief. "Honestly, that's how I feel too. I guess I just doubt myself sometimes… To be wiser than all those Jedi masters of old, it's hard to fathom..."

"You're too humble, Luke. Let's be real, they got so caught up in their traditions and hardheadedness that they couldn't see the forest for the trees."

He smiled a little wistfully. "Ben mentioned his old master used to feel like that…"

I raised my eyebrows. "A rebel Jedi? I like him already. Anyway, I may have never been on the dark side, but I can tell you one thing… Love doesn't bring you closer to it, having nothing to live for does."

I'd said it matter of factly, but Luke seemed moved as if it were poetry. "That's beautiful, Mara…" he whispered. "And very insightful."

I smirked playfully. "Well, you can pass it on to your students if you want, I won't charge you anything for this particular nugget of Jedi wisdom."

He pulled me into his arms, resting his chin on top of my head. "Thank you, I'll do that." The moment lingered silently before he seemed to reach further toward my emotions. Tapping gently on the semi-transparent walls I'd erected as of late. "You're a very wise Jedi, Mara…" he breathed. "Our son can learn a lot from you…"

I wasn't the crying type, not often anyway. But right then, I choked. Because it was all those old fears that had been getting to me lately. The feeling that I'd be less than useless as a mother, that I'd somehow harm him.

But of course, Luke always knew just what to say… With all the good-hearted belief in me that was hard to accept. If threatening to kill him never fazed him, then nothing I could say now would.

I pulled away from his embrace slowly. Taking a step back, I wiped away the few silent tears streaming down my face.

"It's a little hard," I admitted. "Because everyone imitates what they see growing up. How their parents either love or don't… It shapes who they are, and how they raise their own children. But for me…" I closed my eyes, riding out the wave of emotion suddenly washing over me. "I don't remember love or hate, I didn't even know them… All I have is a father figure that used me."

He stared toward the floor, gathering his thoughts. Needless to say, I knew he could have said a lot about his own father figure. His own bitterness could have been there, rightfully it should. But it didn't show, not even for a second. Instead, he looked up at me, eyes so incredibly grateful for each unexpected and unfortunate turn his life had taken. Because each of them had led us here, to each other.

"Choosing love," he said tenderly. "From a void of emptiness… Doesn't that make the meaning all the greater?" He stepped closer, resting a gentle hand on my shoulder. "A story of scars, of how they can be overcome, isn't that the greatest legacy of all?"

I didn't answer, just let my last walls crumble. Let his emotions and presence step over the rubble to find me. Because he was the only one with enough gall to try it. To push against my barriers long enough to see they were mostly fake anyway.

"Thanks," I whispered before I met him with a kiss.

Because I was grateful to him.

Gratitude as much my legacy as those scars…

More soon!