Chapter 4
Mara was standing on the roof of a storage shed, supervising the unloading of cargo on Daloon. She felt slightly guilty that she was not assisting with the moving of crates, an activity that was no more in the job description of her bridge crew than in her own. However, she needed a vantage point where she could see trouble coming—though she insisted everyone on her crew carry at least a stungun when outside the ship, once the shooting started she knew only Odonnl had even the slightest chance of hitting the broadside of a starcruiser.
Mara watched as Dankin and Odonnl carried what appeared to be an exceptionally heavy crate. As H'sishi took the crate from them, she faltered off balance and nearly smacked herself in the face with it—the crate was far lighter than she expected. Mara felt a faint smile tugging at her lips. Every time they played the same prank on the Togorian, and every time she fell for it. H'sishi fixed Dankin with a withering glare and he skittered away. She may not be handy with a blaster, but she certainly knew how to use the three-inch claws embedded in her hands.
Mara heard soft footsteps behind her and whirled around, blaster drawn. The intruder skillfully grabbed the barrel of her blaster and twisted it away. "Careful with that," the woman said. "You could take out someone's eye."
Mara reholstered her blaster. "You can lose a lot more than an eye sneaking up on people like that, Okeefe." Mara looked the other woman over. With her platinum blonde hair and the red and white bandana she always wore, Platt Okeefe, leader of the mercenary group known as the Black Curs, was hard to mistake.
"I'll keep that in mind," Platt replied. The merc seemed nervous, she kept looking around like she expected trouble to appear at any moment.
"Can I help you with something?" Mara asked.
Platt nodded distractedly. "I have something for you." She hesitated for a moment, then pulled something out of her pants pocket. She handed it to Mara, and Mara took it cautiously.
"What is—" she stopped midsentence. Mara knew exactly what it was. A lightsaber. Not just any lightsaber—Mara faintly recalled seeing the sea creatures engraved around the handle before. It was Callista's lightsaber.
Platt answered Mara's question before she could ask it, talking fast. "Before she got married, Callista did some work for the Curs. We got along great, even kept in touch every now and again after she married. Then, shortly before she died, Callista came to us very agitated. She left the lightsaber with N'gruta—an associate of mine—along with instructions to deliver it to you if she didn't return. She said you'd know what to do with it."
Mara stared at the lightsaber. She most certainly did not know what to do with it. Nor did she want anything to do with it. "Where was she going?" Mara asked, her investigative reflexes taking over.
"She said she was going to talk to Jacen Solo."
Mara looked at Platt. Why the cloak and dagger routine before a visit to her nephew? "What did she want to talk about?"
"I don't know, exactly. She said she was just going to talk, but . . . " Platt trailed off. She looked suspiciously around the landing area before she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "She thought he might be a Sith Lord."
"Sith Lord?" Mara repeated. Her head was starting to spin. What was going on? And why was she suddenly in the middle of it? "What does that even mean?"
"I don't know!" Platt hissed. "She said his eyes were yellow. He was using some sort of trick, she was the only one who could see it, being Force-blind and all. I guess she didn't want to tell her family until she knew for sure. She didn't come back, so I guess now we know."
Mara stared incredulously at Platt. "Are you saying Jacen Solo killed Callista Skywalker?"
"I told you all I know," Platt replied and quickly turned to leave.
"Wait," Mara said. But Platt ignored her as she scrambled off the roof and disappeared into the knot of buildings below.
Something isn't right, Mara thought as she stared at the lightsaber she'd carefully set on the console before her. She was once again alone on the bridge of the Incident Alley, which was now headed for Corellia. Her mind had been racing since her conversation with Platt a few hours ago. Despite the overall insanity of all Platt had said and implied, what Mara really couldn't get passed was the feeling that a mistake had been made. But what exactly that mistake was she couldn't put her finger on.
Could it be true? Could Jacen be a Sith Lord? She thought she'd heard that he wasn't getting along with the other Jedi, but a Sith Lord? And Luke had no idea. Or did he?
Mara shook her head in an attempt to clear it. She didn't have a clue about Sith Lords and other Jedi business, and frankly she didn't even want to think about it. That wasn't what was bothering her at the moment. It wasn't the message itself that was off, it was something else . . . something about the delivery.
She focused deeply, trying to replay the conversation in her mind exactly. She left the lightsaber with N'gruta—an associate of mine. Mara paused. She had assumed Platt talked to Callista directly. But maybe she hadn't, maybe only her associate had—N'gruta. A Togorian name if Mara had ever heard one. And then it clicked.
Mara's mind flashed back to a conversation she walked into the middle of several years ago. H'sishi, the Togorian navigator, was asking Karrde how it was that Mara worked for both him and Booster Terrik. The confusion was resolved when they realized the names "Mara" and "Mirax" were similar enough that they sounded interchangeable to Togorian ears.
The message was for Mirax Terrik, not Mara. Mirax, who had close ties to both the Jedi and the Republic. Mirax, who could gently communicate the information to whoever might best be able to deal with it. Not Mara, who wanted nothing to do with the war or anyone in it. Especially not Mara while she was travelling with Luke, who just might die on the spot if he learned his nephew may have killed his wife.
Mara took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself. What was she going to do? Callista had apparently been unwilling to tell Luke of her suspicions, and now Mara was sure the information would destroy him. And here Mara was, right in the middle of it all because the karking Togorian didn't understand Basic. And because Callista couldn't be bothered to enunciate when giving a secret message that would turn the galaxy upside down. Mara sighed. Blaming people wasn't going to help. Now she just had to figure out what to do. She picked up her comlink. She could use a couple more sets of ears to bounce idea off of.
Mara had awakened Dankin from a light nap. Her timing was impeccable, as always. He hadn't wanted to sleep too deeply and his comlink had buzzed just as he was about to sink too far from consciousness.
He slipped into the strategy room to see that Mara and Odonnl were already there, waiting.
"Sorry, I—" he began.
"Skip it," Mara cut in. "Something's come up that we need to deal with." Mara explained her strange meeting on Daloone with Platt Okeefe and her theory about who Platt was really supposed to have talked to. "So," Mara finished, "Thoughts? Ideas?"
Dankin looked to Odonnl, who seemed just as bewildered by Mara's story as he was. But it passed quickly. Mara wouldn't stand for her crew to wander around confounded during a crisis. "Well, we could just sell the information to Mirax and be done with it," Odonnl suggested.
"We're not exactly on speaking terms with Mirax," Dankin replied. Mirax, along with Republic Intelligence, was largely responsible for the shortage of employees throughout the company—they would approach Mara's employees, offering them a slightly higher salary and a new position with a fancy title. A lot of employees accepted the offer. Mara didn't know if the poachers made good on their promises of higher pay, but she did know very few of her former employees stayed with Republic Intelligence for long—it seemed certain personality traits common among smugglers didn't mesh well with a straight-laced government environment. Though they often returned begging to get their old jobs back, Karrde, with his near obsession with loyalty, had a strict policy against rehiring someone who had abandoned the company. Mara had refused to deal directly with Mirax since she had wiped out the crew of her second-in-command.
"Then we could go through Corran," Odonnl suggested. His face was serious, but Dankin had a hunch he was just trying to lighten the mood. Dankin couldn't recall exactly how it started, but they had been teasing Mara about pursuing Corran, who periodically showed up in an attempt to recruit Mara into the Jedi cause, for some time now.
Mara gave Odonnl a dubious stare.
"You know he's totally into you," Dankin added playfully.
"Yeah, totally into sacrificing me at the front lines of his war," Mara muttered sardonically.
"That really would be a bit of poetic justice though, wouldn't it?" Odonnl mused. "Mirax steals our employees, you steal her husband."
"Truly, I can't imagine a bigger disaster than me and Corran, even if he wasn't married," Mara said. Odonnl's digression seemed to have worked—much of the tension had drained from Mara's face and she was leaning back slightly in her chair, a little more relaxed. "Back to the topic at hand, for this bit of information I suppose we could make an exception and deal with Mirax directly. Continue." This was a familiar exercise—everyone present was simply supposed to throw out ideas and respond to the ideas of others. It didn't matter what the crew's actual opinion on the matter was—the decision was Mara's alone. Instead, the goal was to get out and evaluate as many ideas as possible, as quickly as possible.
"Alright," Dankin replied, looking back at Odonnl. "So you're suggesting we sell the information that was supposed to be freely given to Mirax?"
Odonnl shrugged. "She can afford it. And we could certainly use the money for repairs and upgrades."
"And what if it's not true? We don't deal in information we can't verify."
"I guess we'll have to find a way to verify it."
"Somehow that seems unlikely," Dankin replied. "Assuming we're not looking to beat the air addiction anytime soon."
"We could . . ." Odonnl twisted his lip in concentration. "I got nothing."
"Tell Luke? See what he thinks?" Dankin suggested uncertainly.
"No." Mara said firmly. "We don't tell Luke a thing until we're absolutely certain."
"Okay." The three smugglers thought silently for a minute. "How did Callista know?" Dankin asked.
"Platt said Callista could see his eyes were yellow. Which I know from experience is a mark of the Sith," Mara replied. "But no one else seems to be able to see it. Platt said he was using a trick that only Callista could see through." Mara paused as an idea began to form. "Because she was Force-blind," Mara continued slowly. "Dankin, is Faughn still carrying those ysalamiri?"
When Karrde had been forced off of Myrkr, he'd been sure to secure a few ysalamiri, the furry snake- like creatures with the peculiar ability to block the Force, his business sense telling him they were sure to become very valuable. At first they were passed from ship to ship so no one would discover them, but eventually they'd come to rest with Shirlee Faughn onboard the Starry Ice.
Dankin smiled, beginning to follow Mara's line of thought. "I think so."
"Good," Mara replied. "Tell her meet to us on Corellia. We won't do anything until we get a good look at Jacen from a Force-empty ysalamir bubble. If his eyes are yellow . . ." Mara trailed off, apparently not wanting to follow that thought all the way through.
"All hell breaks loose?" Odonnl suggested.
"Something like that."