Chapter 16

Mara yanked the blasters away from Luke, returning hers to the holster at her side and shoving Faughn's into her belt. She grabbed Faughn by the elbow and dragged her roughly along. She never even glanced at Luke as she brushed by him.

There was a dramatic change in Mara's sense that Luke couldn't quite make sense of. She had, not surprisingly, thrown up her mental defenses. Still, Luke could feel the cadence of her emotions and it was not quite what he expected. Just a moment ago the heat of her anger had been enough for him to feel as though he was about to be enveloped in fire. Now when he reached toward her mind he felt something akin to the cold hardness of a stone cliff face.

Luke wordlessly followed Mara off the ship. There were things that needed to be discussed, but they would have to wait. Luke hadn't been able to hear what was said over Mara's comlink, but her quick stride told Luke something serious had happened.

She shoved Faughn into the speeder and then hastily slid in herself, the vehicle moving the second her foot could reach the pedal, which was a second before Luke reached the rear door. He had to run for a few strides and pull himself into the vehicle as it was accelerating.

After Luke got himself settled and several seconds of tense silence, Faughn asked, "So where are we going?"

"You're going wherever the Hoth I take you," Mara snarled.

Figuring he wasn't likely to get a better opening, Luke asked, "And what about me?"

He wouldn't have been at all surprised if she decided to kick him off her ship, and he wasn't so sure that was such a bad idea. It might be time to contact Leia and the Jedi Order, and it would be a lot easier to do that from Corellia than any other planet Mara was likely to be visiting in the near future.

She seemed to consider this for a moment before replying, "I'd leave your sorry backside on this planet if I had any confidence that you'd be able to take care of that son of yours on your own."

Faughn twisted around awkwardly to face Luke. She whispered conspiratorially and flashed Luke a toothy grin. "Oh, good. It looks like you and I get to be roommates in Mara's houndhouse for a while yet."

Luke didn't get a chance to respond because Mara slammed on the brakes pitching him forward to crash against the back the front seat. In a matter of seconds Mara was out of the speeder and halfway up the ramp of Incident Alley.

Dankin had already begun the startup sequence as they waited for Mara. The sensor array was still in shambles but they didn't have time to repair it. At least they wouldn't if they decided to help Ghent. Dankin didn't know what Mara would decide about that, her voice had betrayed nothing when he'd commed her.

Not a moment too soon, Mara rushed onto the bridge. "H'sishi, Pormfil, go out and keep an eye on Faughn," she ordered. "Benji, go . . . give your father a kiss for me, will you?"

Dankin raised his eyebrows. Her words had said kiss, but her tone had implied something more along the lines of a kick to the teeth.

Mara waited until she, Dankin, and Odonnl were alone on the bridge. "Explain this to me again."

"Ghent was on a mission. All the other officers died, leaving him the ranking officer. His ship was damaged but limping back to Corellia when the hyperdrive blew. Just about twenty-six parsecs directly counter-core." Dankin paused.

"In other words," Mara replied, "Almost exactly where the pirates hit us."

Dankin nodded. "It sounds like they'd lost half their shields and nearly all of their weapons. They're sitting mynocks out there.

"The Republic doesn't have any spare warships in the area and Mirax just removed her life support systems for an upgrade. It's us or no one."

Mara exhaled deeply and looked from Dankin to Odonnl. "What do you think?"

"Well," Odonnl began as he tried to filter out his feelings and focus on the purely analytical arguments, "If we get involved it could appear that we are choosing sides in the war. Ghent is essentially no one to us, having him in our debt probably won't do us any good . . ."

"Never mind all that," Mara interrupted. "I mean what do you think we should do? How do you feel about it?"

Dankin and Odonnl exchanged a look, then Odonnl nodded to Dankin. Dankin took a deep breath. "We don't owe Ghent anything. But he's our friend and I don't want him to die."

Mara stared hard at Dankin. "Are you willing to risk your own life to give him a better chance at survival?"

"I am."

Mara turned her stare to Odonnl. "And you?"

"Ghent's a good man, not to mention the best slicer in the galaxy. He's worth saving."

Benji hesitated in the corridor of the ship. He was nervous to see his father. He was afraid he would be able to tell he'd been crying, maybe he would even know what he'd said to Dankin and Odonnl earlier. Worse, maybe his father would be able to sense his failure to lift the crates and help his friend.

Benji regretted his words, he hadn't meant to suggest he didn't love his parents, or that he wished they didn't exist. It made him sick to know he'd never see his mom again, how could he have wished he never knew her? That wasn't what he meant, he thought fiercely, fighting the tears that welled in his eyes. He had to get a grip on himself before he found his father.

Wrapping his arms tightly around himself, Benji wished he had his stuffed whisperkit with him. Niki was her name, after his late cousin Anakin. The plush animal had once belonged to Anakin, and Anakin had given her to Benji the day he was born.

Benji treasured Niki because she reminded him of the cousin he had never met but had always known. Despite having died shortly after Benji was born, Anakin's name was mentioned often when Benji was growing up. People had often commented on how much Benji looked like Anakin, how much Benji reminded them of his older cousin. Benji had relished the comments. He knew Anakin had been a hero, he could hear the reverence in their voices when they said his name. As he grew older the comparisons had lessened. At some point in the last few years they had stopped completely, from all except his Uncle Han.

Suddenly aware of how long he had lingered on the ship despite Mara's instructions, Benji headed for the boarding ramp in the rear of the ship, wishing intensely that he had Niki with him. The whisperkit reminded him of Anakin's strength, and sometimes when he squeezed her tight he could feel a glimmer of that strength in himself.

Three years ago, the Etherway, under the command of Fynn Torve, failed to make a delivery. All contact with the ship was lost for several days. Everyone feared the worst. Then the ship's distress signal was located, coming from a dingy port dozens of parsecs off course.

Mara had been riding along on the Starry Ice with Faughn and they diverted to check on the wayward ship. Suspicions were raised when the Etherway would not respond to repeated hailing. Blasters at the ready, Mara and Faughn had approached the ship. The boarding ramp was down and a ruckus could be heard onboard. Mara and Faughn hurried onto the ship.

Faughn had feared the Etherway had been attacked, or perhaps a disease had swept through the crew. At first it was not clear to Faughn that those things hadn't happened. Crewers were strung about the deck semi-conscious, a few unknown beings among them. There were broken bottles and ripped open crates, the place was generally trashed. It reeked of alcohol, vomit, and a dozen other odors Faughn didn't want to place.

In the middle of it all was Torve, unsteady on his feet, his eyes so dilated they looked like belonged on a skrat. It wasn't until she noticed the residue of glitterstim dusting his face and clothes that Faughn understood what was going on. There had been no attack and any illness was self-induced. Karrde didn't often run spice these days, but apparently he'd assigned a load to Torve. And from the looks of it, Torve had sampled the cargo.

Sampled, decided he liked what he found, and turned it into an all-out spicefest.

Torve, so far out of his mind that he probably didn't remember his own name, drew his blaster. He yelled something incomprehensible at Mara and opened fire. His aim was wild and blaster bolts bounced off the ceiling and walls, never coming near Mara or Faughn.

Faughn had braced herself, fully expecting Mara to drop Torve like the mangy scumsucker he was. But she didn't. She didn't blast him or even stun him. Faughn knew stunning a man that spiced could easily result in death—the stun blast could easily overwhelm a system already compromised by the effects of spice. Still, Faughn would gladly have shot Torve herself except Mara was already on him, wresting his blaster away from him.

Once Mara had Torve's blaster, Faughn relaxed and holstered her own weapon. Fortunately, Mara was not so quick to let her guard down. Torve came at Mara with a vibroblade. Mara reacted instantly, shoving her palm into Torve's nose, the most basic self-defense move there was.

An awful crack resounded in the cabin and Torve fell to the deck. The bone shards from his shattered nose musty have found their way into his brain because Torve never got back up.

It had not been so much Mara's reluctance to open fire on Torve—though that had helped—as her reaction to his death that had given Faughn the confidence to face Mara. It was the only time Faughn had ever seen Mara visibly shaken. Her hands trembled as she carried the body away. Her eyes were distant as she fired each member of the sobered-up crew. And when they returned to base, Karrde had told Mara to take some time off. She complied without objection.

A formidable assassin she may once have been, but now Mara Jade was no more a cold-blooded killer than the Jedi currently sitting in the backseat. Speaking of which, Faughn wondered briefly if Skywalker would stop her if she tried to escape. Then she quickly dismissed the notion of escape as pure folly. It was clear Mara wasn't going to hurt her, and being shipless and creditless on Corellia was practically a death sentence. With the company unraveling, it was just possible that if she stuck around Faughn might be able to prove herself useful enough for Mara to forgive her and eventually let her go. At this point, Faughn would rather be a prisoner on a fast ship than be liberated with no way off the planet.