Tempered Mettle came out of hyperspace far beyond the edge of Dathomir's hyper limit, just to be safe. While the Imperial presence in this part of the galaxy had been broken with the death of Warlord Zsinj, Dathomir remained an uncertain world with multiple interested powers. Mara was not interested in getting into a shooting match with a Hapan Battle Dragon if she could avoid it, and certainly not because she did something as stupid as startle them.
Beside her, Luke leaned forward, peering down at the computer readouts. "Any sign of the Hapans?"
"There they are," Mara pointed at the heads-up display, which blinked with a trio of friendly green dots. "Hapan IFFs."
"Artoo, make sure we're using our real IFF," Luke instructed. "I want them to know who we are, so don't sub it out for another one of your fakes."
Artoo blatted at him rudely.
"He better not have," Mara growled as she kept her ship's speed at a leisurely pace, giving the Hapans plenty of time to see them and react before she got too close. "I've told him before that he shouldn't change out the ship's beacon without telling me first."
The droid's dome did a full rotation, then he made a sound that sounded half-resigned and half-indignant.
"You always think it's for the best," Mara retorted after a quick glance at the ship's translation unit. "But it's still my ship."
"It doesn't matter in this case," Luke intervened quickly. "He hasn't changed the beacon."
The com unit crackled to life. "Unknown vessel, this is the Hapan Battle Dragon Grand Beldam, Hapan Royal Guard. By the order of the Queen Mother, this world is under our protection. Announce yourself."
"Hapans," Mara muttered. She keyed her com. "Grand Beldam, this is Tempered Mettle. We have aboard Jedi Knights traveling to Dathomir for the purposes of recruitment." She lifted her finger off the pickup and glanced at Artoo. "Send our credentials, Artoo."
The droid whistled his agreement.
"It was nice of Teneniel to make sure we'd have the appropriate flimsiwork," Luke commented.
Mara looked at him sideways. "How many other ex-girlfriends do you have hidden around the spaceways anyway?"
Luke blushed nicely. "Teneniel isn't an ex-girlfriend."
"No, but from what Solo told me it wasn't by much and she did declare her intent to pursue you."
That drew a smile from Luke—one that didn't quite banish his blush. "Rather dramatically. I let her down easy."
Mara was a Jedi Knight now, so of course petty concepts like jealousy were beneath her. Definitely, definitely beneath her. She could feel Luke's embarrassment—which never failed to be endearing—and also his enduring, though platonic, affection for the Dathomiri witch who had become the Queen Mother of Hapes.
She allowed her ship to coast in-system towards the planet growing in front of them. It was a beautiful world, she thought. With limited development, Dathomir had none of the stretches of illuminated land visible from orbit that most inhabited worlds did—from a distance, some newcomers would mistake Coruscant for a star—but instead had only enormous stretches of greenery, striped with mountains and bordered with oceans and seas. If not for the planet's hostile native lifeforms—including but not limited to its witches—Dathomir would no doubt have become host to a much larger settlement centuries ago.
"Tempered Mettle," the female voice of the Hapan communications officer came back, more respectful, but there was just a bit of an edge to it. "Welcome to Dathomir, Jedi Knights Jade and Skywalker. We've ordered the main landing pad on the surface cleared; you'll be free to land at Solo's Folly in a few minutes."
Luke and Mara looked at each other. "Did you say Solo's Folly?" asked Luke, fighting back a laugh.
"That's the name of the settlement on the surface," came the response. "We're sending you its exact location and landing instructions now." The com clicked off, and Mara's screen flashed as the indicated instructions appeared upon it.
Luke leaned towards Mara. "Do you want to tell Han or should I?" he murmured, smirking broadly.
"Oh, let me do it," Mara said cheerfully as she began preparations for landing. "I still owe him for that time he called me a nursemaid."
Solo's Folly turned out to be a small settlement that had grown out of Warlord Zsinj's former prison garrison. The buildings were largely clustered within the standing fortifications, complete with substantial—and seemingly well-maintained—defensive guns, capable of striking both ground and aerial targets. At the center of the compound was a large landing field, with several pads capable of holding a midsized bulk freighter, and one smaller pad for four Hapan X-wings. The landing pads were one of the only places on the planet it was safe to land a ship without risk from the roving native wildlife—and given that the roving native wildlife included rancors that could grow up to ten meters tall and strong enough to smash starships, it was best not to take any chances.
Mara had never been to Dathomir before, but Luke (and Han and Leia) had told her about his previous time here.
"It's changed a lot in the last few years," Luke commented. "It seems Solo's Folly—" he choked back a laugh, and Mara couldn't quite prevent a smirk from crossing her lips "—has a permanent population of a few hundred." He pointed at a large, gleaming structure which overlooked both the landing pad and the rugged, forested terrain beyond the city's fortifications. "And that looks like something the Hapans built for their garrison."
"I'd guess closer to a thousand," Mara said. She pointed in the direction of the nearby mountain. "You can see additional structures out in the valley." She cut the throttle back and kicked in the repulsorlifts, bringing the ship down onto the cleared landing pad. It was in excellent condition—practically brand new, complete with nearby construction droids which seemed to be building a new, identical pad next to it—and provided nice, bright lights and lines which made the lending easy. Her piloting droid, Slips, beeped his normal relieved sound—he did that every time he watched someone else land the ship, always wishing to do it himself—as Mara put Tempered Mettle down with a slight sag of the landing gear hydraulics, and then the slight flexing rise as the ship's landing struts leveled out.
She leaned back in the pilot's couch. "The ship's all yours, Slips. Keep an eye on things while Luke and I meet the Singing Mountain Clan—and don't let anyone aboard."
And remember, Artoo," Luke said, almost chidingly, "Slips is in charge. No modifications."
Artoo made a rude noise, and Mara's pilot droid tootled out an insouciant affirmative as the two humans departed.
There was a party of Hapans waiting to greet them. Three men and women in the flashy-yet-surprisingly-practical uniforms of the Hapan Royal Guard—though still thick with plenty of gold trim and gewgaws—stood at attention not far from the end of Tempered Mettle's landing ramp.
Mara strode towards them. She wasn't wearing anything nearly so flashy—just one of her typical spacer ensembles, with sturdy pants and a jacket with sleeves loose enough to easily hide her holdout—but she did have her lightsaber swinging from her belt. Behind her, Luke was dressed in his typical Jedi outfit: a brown cloak covering a comfortable set of white Jedi robes, created in the style of his first Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi. The outfit had become nearly a uniform among the growing number of young Jedi, but Mara preferred less flowing (and less conspicuous) garb.
The lead Hapan, a middle-aged woman whose outfit had even more gold than the two men flanking her, greeted her and Luke with a severe nod. "Welcome to Dathomir," she announced with a lack of ceremony that starkly contrasted her outfit. "I'm Colonel Nelissen, commander of Hapan Forces in the Dathomir system."
"Luke Skywalker," Luke replied, then nodded at Mara, "and this is Mara Jade. We're here to meet with Augwynne Djo of the Singing Mountain Clan."
"The Queen Mother's mother," Colonel Nelissen replied.
"That's correct."
"And the purpose of your visit?"
"As we told the commander of the Grand Beldam," Mara cut in, "and indicated on our travel documents, we're here for the purposes of recruitment."
"Of Jedi," Colonel Nelissen said blandly.
"That's correct," said Luke again. "We're here to see if any of the witches wish to train as Jedi."
Nelissen's face pinched, just a little. The two men flanking her kept impressive sabacc faces, but Mara could feel the hint of tension in the air. Nelissen herself clearly wanted to say something more but resisted the impulse. "Your flimsiwork is in order. You may proceed. The gates in and out of the settlement are locked from one hour after sundown until sunrise. Given your previous history on this planet I don't need to warn you of the native dangers." And with that, the Hapan turned on her heels and walked away, the two guards following with a gait that would have been appropriate for the heights of formal ceremony.
"I don't think she liked us very much," Mara said, planting her hands on her hips.
"No," Luke sighed. "I don't think she did. I'm not sure why she was upset, though."
"Could be anything," Mara shrugged. "Maybe she doesn't like being stuck on this backwater instead of back home with the pomp and performance of Hapes. Maybe she doesn't like the idea of the Jedi Order returning. Maybe she's protective of the Queen Mother's family."
"Maybe," Luke agreed. "Come on, let's go. If we don't have rancor transportation it's a long walk."
"Rancor transportation," Mara muttered. "Life with you is never boring, Skywalker."
The road they were traversing was marked with many signs of recent travel, human sized… and much larger. Clearly this is becoming a major trade route. Mara mused, scanning the horizon and stretching out with her senses, feeling the web of life left by the Witches and others who regularly traveled between the settlements of the Singing Mountain Clan and Solo's Folly.
Up until now, Mara had only ever seen the rancor at Jabba's Palace. That had been an impressive creature, though at the time Mara had been more impressed by the rancor's bait than the beast itself—
Beside her, Luke smirked, and she glared at him sideways
—but from the footprints on the path, the rancors that lived here made Jabba's look like the runt of the litter.
But Mara spent only a fraction of her attention on imagining Dathomir's rancor population, because while the road was empty in both directions, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched.
Luke moved a bit closer to her side. "Danger sense?" he murmured under his breath.
She merely nodded. Her hand moved instinctively towards the lightsaber she had on her belt. Anakin Skywalker's old blade was a comforting presence, but she didn't draw it just yet. If they were being stalked, better not to provoke their stalkers into attacking them. "Nightsisters?" she asked.
"I don't think so." Luke closed his eyes, and she could feel him concentrating, extending his Force-sense out in all directions, searching for a foreign presence. "There's a group of witches shadowing us," he murmured quietly, "riding rancors."
Mara closed her eyes, pushing her Force-sense out to mingle with his. He greeted her welcomingly, his presence warm and affectionate, but also alert. He guided her outwards, showing her what he had already found: the trio of minds, all strong in the Force, and their trio of shockingly-intelligent, massive rancor mounts. She opened her eyes once again and met Luke's, noting that while he looked alert, he did not look concerned. "Hostiles?"
"I don't feel any overt hostility," Luke said with a slight shake of her head. "But the witches—"
He stopped suddenly, and she too felt the sudden shift in the Force. Energy swirled within it around the trio of witches, and Mara could feel them calling upon its power. Their power was unlike any other Force user Mara had ever encountered—nothing like Palpatine or Tionne or Luke—it felt primal somehow, different from the more subtle, ancient traditions of the Jedi and Sith. The world around them responded to it, the trees almost quivering as the Force offered the witches its power, animals scrambling out of a sudden sense of haste. The witches were as one with their world, and their world was as one with them, and the Force was both at once.
There was a sudden howl of wind and a gust battered against them, making Luke's robes seem to fly all around him. Mara braced herself against the wind, digging her combat boots into the hardened mud at her feet and taking her lightsaber into her hand.
But the howl wasn't just the wind. To her astonishment, Mara saw a creature rise up out of the forest. The rancor's maw dripped with ichor, its dark, stunningly intelligent eyes staring at the two Jedi from its vantage high above them—high above because the rancor was at least twenty meters tall.
Its massive claws were the size of airspeeders and the whole planet seemed to shake as it took a step towards them, looming even taller as it took another step forward. The creature's eyes never left Mara; she and Luke stepped closer together, adopting a mutually-protective defensive stance. She opened herself—to Luke and to the Force—and felt all the depths of Dathomir's primal power flow into her as it flowed into Luke, their consciousnesses mingling as they faced the sudden threat.
The rancor hunched forward towards them, its maw opening as it screamed at the two Jedi, the sound one of rage and challenge. As one, Luke and Mara ignited their lightsabers, green and blue appearing with twinned snap-hisses, and then the rancor charged.
It moved with impossible speed, and—
Mara!
Luke's thought pressed into her mind, with a sense of both revelation and urgency. She didn't understand what it was he had realized but without hesitation she followed his guidance. The two of them stood together as the rancor closed, thirty meters becoming ten then five, the beast's massive claw swiping towards them—
Follow!
Mara and Luke closed their eyes and disengaged their lightsabers. Reaching into the Force, they found the spell that had weaved itself around them, the power of far more than three witches there empowering it, and… ignored it. They stepped forward, into the claws of the beast, its deafening anger echoing in their ears, and continued stepping forward, untouched. The rancor's howl of rage became nothing more than a gust of wind, and then not even that, as the illusion dissipated.
When their eyes opened once again, they stood in the middle of a quiet road, and the rancor footprints were all of very normal size.
The three witches they had sensed in the Force, and their merely eight-meter tall mounts, appeared from the forest a few minutes later. Their leader was a tall woman with brown skin and darker hair. Her mount lowered itself closer to the ground and she jumped down, holding a deadly spear in her hand and dressed in leather armor, and Mara was struck by the sheer predatory physicality of the woman—and her strong presence in the Force.
"I am Kirana Ti," she announced herself, her voice carrying strongly, "of the Singing Mountain Clan. You have seen the mountain sing and still you stand." The witch quirked a smile. "Truly, the powers of the Jai are as our mothers say. Come. Your arrival has been foretold."
The rest of the trip was fast and unlike any other trip Mara had ever taken. The experience of being picked up by a rancor and put on his back, where there was a saddle, played havoc with her expectations of normality. Luke, who had done this before, was more comfortable, but they were also separated. Luke rode with one of the other witches—who looked alarmingly happy at the arrangement, Mara thought with just a hint of possessive annoyance—while Mara was placed with Kirana Ti. Standing next to the warrior witch made Mara feel annoyingly short.
Traveling by rancor was loud and conversation was difficult, so Mara spent the ride mostly watching scenery and memorizing the local geography. From high up on the rancor's back she could see easily for a long distance, and the miles of trees became increasingly thick the farther she looked, until they were walled off by a line of not-too-distant mountains. They traveled through that forest and up into the foothills, following a valley along a shallow stream. It took about three hours, but eventually they came upon signs of human settlement, and shortly thereafter they arrived at the settlement of the Singing Mountain Clan.
Witches gathered around, staring—mostly at Luke, and though it made her feel self-conscious about just how possessive she was acting, Mara stepped in close and glowered at them and was extremely satisfied when they drew back with obvious alarm.
The witches were not alone. Farther back, standing near the twig and clay structures of the village, were the clan's men. "I wonder how many of them are Force sensitive," Luke murmured as he saw her regarding them, "but can't admit it because of the cultural expectations here."
"Probably nearly as many as the women," Mara replied, glowering at the ogling witches some more. To make the point clear, she put her hand possessively on Luke's back and was satisfied to see the more persistent of the witches look first surprised, then disappointed. Her scowl could wilt Wes Janson; if it worked on him, it would work on anyone. The only person it didn't work on was Luke, but his immunity was unique.
She could feel Luke's amusement—and also just how glad he was that she was there to protect him from the potentially dangerous courtship rituals of Dathomir's witches. "I don't think we'll be able to recruit from the men on this trip, though," he continued as if Mara's battle of wills had not taken place. "It would be too disruptive to the clan's social norms."
"Sometimes it's good to be disruptive," Mara countered. "Sometimes you have to disrupt before you can change."
Whatever Luke's response to that would have been, their exchange ended abruptly. The witches gathered along the village's main road parted, and in the vacuum left behind stood an elderly woman, still regal and strong despite her age. Next to her was a much younger woman who nonetheless seemed somehow frail.
"Welcome, Luke Skywalker," the elder woman said. "You once arrived at our village in a time of war, now return to our village once more as a bearer of peace and justice."
Luke approached the trio of women and bowed deeply. "Thank you for your welcome, Augwynne Djo," he said respectfully.
"You bring another. Your mate, I presume?" Augwynne approached Mara, and the evaluative expression in the older woman's pale eyes sent a nervy shiver down Mara's spine. The reference to her as Skywalker's 'mate' was to be expected, and if she corrected the misperception she'd only invite the witches to pursue him, so she allowed it.
"Mara Jade," she said cooly.
She ignored Luke's blossoming grin beside her. Don't get cocky, Skywalker.
"You would make a fine witch, Mara Jade," Augwynne replied. Mara wasn't sure what to make of that, but it sounded like a compliment so she just nodded. Augwynne returned the nod, then turned to address Luke once more. "You remember my daughter, Barukka," the older woman said, gesturing at the frail, younger woman.
"I do," Luke said. He stepped forward, and to Mara's surprise he extended his hands to Barukka. The other woman, clearly nervous and carrying to her a hint of shame, hesitated before clasping her hands to Luke's. Mara could feel him reaching out with the Force, gently probing Barukka. "Your clan has accepted you once again," Luke said, almost too softly to be overheard. "You have healed, but you still have much healing to do."
"Come," Augwynne interrupted, turning and gesturing back at the largest of the wood and clay huts. "We will discuss the Jai, and Master Yoda's promise that someday they would come to teach our children."
Within the hut, Augwynne sat them around a simple round table, with chairs covered in furs. Barukka sat at her mother's right, and Kirana Ti sat at her left on the far side of the table. The warrior woman propped her spear up against the wall behind her then sat, her expression calm. Barukka's eyes lingered on the table in front of her, refusing to make eye contact with either Luke or Mara.
She fell to the Dark and became a nightsister, Luke whispered an explanation to Mara through the Force, the close proximity making the telepathic communication easy. She began her path to recovery many years ago.
From her appearance, Mara thought that the woman still had a long way to go, but she could not feel any aura of Darkness from the once-fallen witch. Mara doubted that Barukka could hide it from her, so that was a good sign.
"When I was last here," Luke began, "Mother Rell told me that my Master, Master Yoda, promised her that the Jedi would return to Dathomir someday to teach your daughters about the Force. We, too, wish to learn from them about your traditions. The Jedi Order is still growing, but we are ready to accept apprentices, if there are any among you interested."
"Dathomir has been alone for too far too long," Augwynne said softly. "And so have we." Her expression grew serious. "The Hapans have been trying teachers, but we tolerate my daughter's husband's people and they teach us what we ask to learn. They are, however, not suited to teaching witches about the Force—" she used the word hesitantly "—and we would welcome your teaching. I hope that someday you will teach my granddaughters."
"When the time comes, I will teach Tenel Ka as I will teach my own niece and nephew," Luke promised. "But I cannot stay on Dathomir to teach your daughters. It is not yet time for me to settle in one place to teach in that way; the Force still calls me to travel the stars."
"We know," Augwynne replied. "We have many auguries of the future among the witches, and in none of them do you stay to live among us, though there are many possibilities." She turned and nodded at Kirana Ti. "But one of us will travel with you, to learn the ways of the Jai, and to teach you the ways of the witches."
Mara was vaguely surprised at the degree of nervous uncertainty that Kirana Ti's Force-sense revealed, but however the woman had been volunteered to this duty—by her own will, selected by Augwynne, or chosen by the Singing Mountain Clan's seers—she was clearly determined to do it. "I will come with you, to the stars," Kirana Ti said. "And become a Jai, as was foretold by Mother Rell. Then I will return here, to my clan, and teach my sisters and daughters as well."
Luke smiled. "That is all I could have asked."
"The lessons can wait until morning," Augwynne said with a nod. "You have arrived at the time of planting, and the witches have many spells to cast before the day is over." Her smile became coy. "And we must test the mate of Luke Skywalker, to make sure she is up to the standards of the Singing Mountain Clan!"
Luke woke the next morning and found Mara tucked in against his chest, sleeping calmly. She made a soft sound of annoyance when he stirred, then snuggled in closer against him. Smiling, Luke settled back down onto the comfortable cushion of furs and blankets the Singing Mountain Clan had made available.
The remainder of the day before had been surprisingly celebratory. They had not expected anything specific of their arrival, but arriving during the planting season was apparently seen as a good omen by the villagers of the Singing Mountain Clan. The impromptu festival had become something of an early holiday, with witches casting spells of various kinds—none of which Luke fully understood, but all of which he had watched closely in the hopes of future understanding. The witches' use of the Force was so totally different and alien to the traditions of the Jedi, utilizing singing and gestures to guide the Force in ways that were precise and known to them. The Jedi's traditions and use of the Force was more flexible, but also more difficult to teach, relying as it did on each Jedi's personal connection to the Force.
He wondered if the Jedi might, someday, start by teaching spells like those of the witches, things more easily defined, and then transition into the more individualistic and personal connection to the Force of the Jedi. Or if perhaps some Jedi would always use a mix of spells and their own Jedi powers. He didn't know, but the potential was tremendous and he was excited to find out.
His only problem was that the witches were reluctant to teach their spells to men. That, though, was a limited issue: of the new Jedi, many were women. Mara and Tionne, of course, but they had also recently added Tyria Sarkin to their ranks, and the Mon Calamari healer Cilghal. Perhaps the spells would be useful for Tyria in particular—Luke made a mental note to ask her if she would be interested in coming to Dathomir to learn from the witches.
There was joy in the air around him and Mara. Not just their own shared happiness—she stirred but did not wake, her hand gently grasping at his chest—but also that of the witches and the villagers beyond the clay and wood hut he and Mara shared. Dathomir was a beacon in the Force, lush with life of all kinds, and the Singing Mountain Clan lived in harmony with the world. This time of year—the planting season—was one where their connection with Dathomir felt at its highest, as they (and their rancors, which made remarkably effective motive power for their scrap-metal plows) went about planting the fields, using their spells to encourage the nascent crops to take root.
But there was something else in the air too. Something else in the Force… he closed his eyes, stretching out with his feelings. It was easy to do on Dathomir, with the villagers and their rancors and other animals, the forest and its plants and busy creatures.
He felt Mara stir, saw her green eyes blinking brilliantly up at him. She had that sleepy, not-yet-awake look that only appeared when she felt perfectly, completely content and safe, a look that he would never have imagined her ever having when they first met. "What is it?" she asked, her voice hazy with sleep.
"I'm not sure," Luke said, stroking her hair with a gesture of affection that, years before, would have cost him his left hand. "Help me?"
She made a mildly exasperated sound, then joined her Force sense to his. Together they reached out… and gasped together as sudden agony reached back. Mara sat bolt upright, her tiredness completely banished, and Luke grimaced as he swung out of bed. The sense of pain lasted only for a fleeting moment, replaced by piercing sorrow, and then it faded, leaving only a lingering sense of anxiety which might be Mara's own.
"What was that?" Mara asked, already reaching for her clothes.
"I don't know," Luke said, and the joy in the air around them was now, sadly, in the past.
There was a knock on the door, then it burst open. The tall figure in the doorway was framing with the light of Dathomir's rising sun, and it took a moment for Luke's eyes to adjust to reveal Kirana Ti.
"What is it?" asked Luke.
Kirana Ti glanced at Mara, then at Luke. She seemed largely immune to Mara's glare. "Another ship has arrived, out of schedule. It is called the Pulsar Skate, and someone named Iella Wessiri wants to talk to Jedi Jade at once. It sounds urgent."