Out
of the Shadows 18
Osarian
– Expansion region – Two months previously
The
sun dipped low, finally disappearing behind the hills above the small, drab
mining town of
It
was time.
The
family were sitting down for their plain but filling evening meal when their
grandmother, a tiny, aged woman, began muttering quietly to herself. Her mind
had been gone for many years and, for most of the time, they paid no attention
to her as she wandered in and out of her dwindling lucidity. But she’d been
strangely quiet lately - had hardly said anything for weeks. Indeed, most of the
sounds she’d uttered in the past few months hadn’t been words at all but
strange, infantile gibberish. It was as if she’d lost the power of coherent
speech and had regressed to the skills and the dependency of a tiny baby. She
sat now in her usual corner near the fire and rocked back and fore, her arms
wrapped around her own feeble body, her hands clutching at her clothes as if to
ward off something she had no protection against.
“Danger…
Frightened?”
The
words emerged slowly and quietly at first; her voice rough and hoarse with lack
of use and the family, sitting around the table concentrating on finishing their
meal, ignored her. It was actually a few minutes before they’d registered that
she’d said something they could all understand.
“Danger…
Frightened? Must leave…must hide.”
“What
is it, mother?” the man, a mine worker by the name of Gurun, said impatiently.
But the old lady ignored him, continuing to rock, her moaning and muttering
becoming louder and louder. “You deal with her,” he said
helplessly, looking towards his wife. “She won’t do anything for me.”
“Go,
all of you.” The old lady’s voice was surprisingly strong. “I…” She
pointed her thumb at her chest. “I, Kehta, will protect my…”
“Ssh!
Mother.” Gurun’s wife left the table and placed a thick woollen blanket over
the old lady’s knees. “Is that better?” she asked, not expecting an
answer. But she was surprised this time.
“No.”
Kehta stared up at her daughter-in-law, her faded grey eyes wide and fearful.
“It’s not better. Too late for me it is. Danger…”
“There’s
nothing to harm you here,” Gidrone soothed, shaking her head warningly at her
husband, the unspoken message clear. ”You’re safe with us,” she murmured
and returned to her meal but the old lady continued to mumble, the words
becoming ever more frantic.
“What
now?” He shrugged helplessly, his hands outstretched towards the rest of the
family. He hated to see her like this. “Where’s her medicine?”
“We’re
out of it. There’s no way we can afford to buy more, not until next moon’s
waxing,” his wife answered sadly. “She’s been so placid these past months
– hasn’t needed it - but today she’s very restless. There’s something in
the wind. She always knows.”
“Gidrone…”
Gurun said warningly.
“She’s
right. I know she is. I can feel it too,” their son interrupted quietly.
He’d been standing at the window of the small house staring out at the
darkening sky.
“Ssh!
Don’t talk that way.”
“Why
not?”
Gurun
fidgeted in his seat. “If you were heard…”
“I
can talk how I like. The Emperor is dead, father.” He looked worriedly over at
the little old lady. She’d brought him up during the times that both of his
parents had worked full-time at the mine and they had once been very close
emotionally. She had always understood him even when his own mother had not.
“There is a sense of something coming closer,” he said, shivering a little
which was odd as the climate was temperate and it had been unusually warm that
day. But he’d felt the cold snaking through his bones.
His
grandmother had always had the reputation of being a little strange in their
small town. Being different, standing out was not wise during the period of
Imperial occupation because the attention it brought you was not always the
welcome kind. But no one had ever denounced her to their Imperial rulers.
She’d listened to their troubles and watched over them when they were sick and
the townspeople respected her for that. She’d always been the first on the
scene at a crisis. When he’d been a small boy she’d told him extraordinary
stories of many worlds and the evil that found you no matter how hard you tried
to hide and the special powers of people who could help. She always knew what
the weather would be or if the crops would grow to a good harvest. She was
always right.
Gurun
observed his son closely. Kelt was more like her than either Gidrone or himself
and it worried him. His father had laughed off his wife’s fey behaviour but
sometimes, Gurun had seen a fearful look in his father’s eyes. He’d never
understood why but over the years he had learned to fear for her too. Once,
he’d overheard a conversation which implied that his grandparents had been
running from something or someone. To his knowledge, they’d lived in this town
all of their lives. He didn’t believe that his ordinary family would be
targets - it sounded too bizarre. Who would want to harm them? But their
strangely cautious habits had caught on and became ingrained. The family were
part of the community but were not central to it and were not over familiar with
strangers.
“Stop
frightening the boy, Kehta,” Gurun’s father had once said. “Do you want to
be taken in for questioning?”
“I’m
trying to warn him…teach him.”
“He
hasn’t been gifted with your particular curse. Leave him be. Please, if you
value his life as I value yours. This is not his fight.” And he’d been
right. Gurun had not the uncanny foreknowledge that his mother had.
Kehta
had known when her husband had been killed in a freak accident at the factory.
Gurun would swear that she knew the exact moment that it had happened. When the
men had brought his body home, her tears had already dried from her face and she
was waiting for her love for the very last time with a calm acceptance that had
frightened him.
Gurun
had said exactly the same thing to his mother as his father had said when
she’d tried to teach his son, Kelt, her…ways. It hadn’t mattered to Gurun,
that she’d ceased telling him her tales because he didn’t see things the way
his mother and his son did. The mysterious abilities they possessed had passed
him by and he was glad of it. Some people might call him dull but he was a good
husband and father and made a steady living for his family. They had survived
when others had not.
“You
know I don’t like to hear such talk. Leave him be, mother. The less he knows
about such things, the safer he’ll be.”
His
mother had never talked to Kelt of her ways in his hearing after he had taken
her to task but he suspected she did so when he wasn’t around. He’d often
come across them whispering and laughing together, sharing things he could take
no part in. He suspected that when Kelt reached his age of majority she might
have been more open and defied his rules. But just as Kelt reached adulthood her
mind began to wander. Things that happened long ago in her past were more real
to her than yesterday. The day she no longer recognised Gurun as her only son
upset him more than he’d ever expected it to. She was no longer the strong
woman who had dragged him into adulthood on this nothing of a planet. He was now
the adult and she the child. How he wished that this hadn’t happened to her,
that she was still in her right mind. She didn’t deserve such a fate.
“Danger…hide.
The dark…” The gnarled and shaking hands moved to cover the old woman’s
wrinkled face, her grey eyes bright with fear.
“Grandmother!”
The young man knelt before her clutching her hands in his own. “You are safe
here. We won’t let anything happen to you.” He looked up at his father and
mother. “We must reassure her.”
Then
suddenly again, the unexpected gleam of lucidity replaced the cloudy vagueness.
“Kelt?” She stared at the three faces. “Gurun, my son, and Gidrone.
You’ve been a good daughter to me. Blessed me with a grandson strong in the
Force.”
The
family stared at each other in consternation. She hadn’t recognised any of
them for months, possibly even years; it was difficult to tell.
“The
Force is strong…” the old lady murmured, one hand moving to cover the young
man’s cheek, caressing it lightly, the other tangling in his thick, dark
curls. “I promised to keep you a secret.” Her shaking fingers waved vaguely
in the air. “Box…”
“Box!
What box…oh, your workbox.” Kelt looked around for the sewing box she never
touched but couldn’t bear to be parted from.
“Get,”
she ordered, a long-forgotten hint of durasteel in her voice.
“It’s
beside you, Grandmama. It’s always been by your side.” Kelt glanced at his
parents. His grandmother had been loving and gentle but so strong inside. He had
always recognised that about her.
“False
bottom…underneath.” Her voice was a mere wisp of sound. The Force had
granted her this boon, this awareness of her rightful mind. “Hurry,” she
urged. “Danger. You must hide – all of you.”
“Don’t
be ridiculous, mother. Why should we hide?” Gurun knew that this was another
symptom of her age and her fading mind – this paranoia. Still, she'd not been
this coherent for a long time, not since long before Kelt had started working in
the mine with his father six years ago. He wondered if he should try asking her
the stupid questions the doctors always asked but knew it would be a waste of
time.
Kelt
opened the box and removed pieces of fabric, the sewing unfinished and the
stitches uneven. “I could never be a traditional wife,” Kehta whispered.
“I loved him and I tried to be a good wife for him. It never really worked. We
were happy…he was happy and I was content,” she concluded wistfully.
“Yes, I was content.”
Kelt
continued to delve and brought out coloured threads and cutting implements and
then the box was empty…or was it? A sense of anticipation turned his stomach
into knots.
“Lift,”
the old lady instructed and Kelt could see that the workbox did indeed have a
false bottom. She was hiding something in there. He pulled out a vibro-blade and
carefully sliced around the base.
Out
fell a silver cylinder and a couple of data cards. “What is that?” asked
Kelt, his eyes widening. He felt a need to pick it up, touch its smooth surface.
“Once
it was my life,” she said sadly. “And now it will be yours.”
Kelt
found that curving his hand around the hilt was an intensely satisfying feeling.
He found the switch and carefully thumbed it on. With a satisfying hiss, the
humming blade of silvery white sprang into life after nearly twenty five years
of lying dormant.
“Yes,”
the old lady hissed, satisfaction lighting her features. “Lightsaber. Mine it
was and now I give it to you.”
“A
lightsaber. You were a Jedi Knight?” Kelt stared at his grandmother and then
at his father who looked as astounded as he felt. “How…I mean why?”
“Find
the young Jedi Master, Kelt. He will teach you the ways of the Force. Give him
these. He will need to find those still in hiding. Now you need to leave here
– all of you.”
Kelt
shut down the saber, automatically attaching it to his belt in the way Jedi had
done for thousands of years, and pocketed the data cards. “Why?”
“Just
a feeling…” The old lady’s voice tailed off and he could see the alertness
fade from her eyes. Her hands began clutching at her clothes and she rocked her
body back and fore. “Danger,” she mumbled and began to weep. “Hide. Find
the young Jedi.”
“We’d
better do as she says,” Kelt said firmly.
“She’s
delusional, Kelt,” Gidrone said sadly. “Her mind is in the past.”
“No,
not just then,” Kelt retorted, upset at his grandmother’s distress. “She
knew what she was saying. Something warned her. I sense it, too – something
dark. Get your things together. It wouldn’t hurt to go away for a day or two.
We can always come back. Treat it like a holiday to celebrate my promotion.”
“I
don’t know, Kelt,” his mother said. “I suppose it wouldn’t do any harm.
We’ll think about it.”
“Think
quickly. It sounded urgent to me.” He shook his head at his parents and left
the room going outside to one of the huts they kept for their domestic animals.
His mother and father just didn’t understand the way that he did. The first
thing he wanted to do was examine the lightsaber and he needed to be alone. His
grandmother had been a Jedi? He could be a Jedi too? It was difficult to imagine
the confused old lady as a knight of the Jedi order, seeing her the way she was
now. It was almost as impossible to think that he could be a Jedi Knight.
He supervised the cleaning of the mining equipment at the factory. Not exactly
the stuff that legends were made of. Where did one go to learn the skills
required? His grandmother had told him that the Empire had hunted and persecuted
the Jedi until there were virtually none of them left alive. His grandmother
could have taught him once and Kelt was sure now that she had meant to do so.
Kelt
grasped the hilt firmly, thumbed on the weapon and watched awe-struck as a
silvery white blade extended to just over a metre in length. He waved it around
enjoying the sweet humming sound it made as it swished through the air. It felt
right in his hands. The young man grinned broadly and shut down the weapon. He
had to try and see if his grandmother was capable of saying anything else. He
had to find out more.
“I’m
sorry,” he apologised to the small native yakkara that his parents kept to
provide milk for the family. “I hope I didn’t upset you waving the
lightsaber around.” The animal tossed her head and let out a small whinny
before burying its head inside the feeding station. Kelt smiled but suddenly he
stopped, the cold spreading through his bones again. This time it was more
urgent and the reason for the feeling was…here.
A
strange sound filtered through the night as he exited the shed. ‘Wait!’ he
thought. ‘What was that? It sounded like…’ He began to run back towards
the dwelling, his limbs heavy, dread tightening his face.
‘Kelt!
Stay where you are. Please.’
“Grandmother!”
‘It’s
too late…for…me.’
‘Stay
outside,’ he thought. ‘Don’t go inside the house.’ His grandmother had
been right. There was danger out in the darkness but it had suddenly reached
closer to home. ‘My parents are in…’ He flattened himself against the wall
and peered in through the window. The sight that met his eyes made him want to
retch. “No!” he whispered and collapsed onto the ground, the breath squeezed
from his lungs.
He
had no sooner left the house when a dark-clad figure had burst into the room and
began spraying the room with blaster fire. His parents and his grandmother had
died almost instantly. They had no time to run or even defend themselves. But
the Force had granted Kehta enough time to warn Kelt and that had saved his
life.
He
had managed to stop from giving himself away, his gasp of pain and anguish
staying frozen in his burning throat as he watched the cloaked figure ransack
the house, searching for something, and then leave empty handed. His parents and
grandmother lay covered in blood, their eyes wide and staring.
Kelt
could feel the dark coldness surrounding this deed, even though he didn’t yet
know why he was able to feel that way. He had immediately contacted the
constabulary and had even spent a night in a cell before it had been quickly
established he was not to blame. How could he harm them? He’d lived all his
life in this town with his parents. He’d loved them and now they were gone –
he was on his own. The brutality of the killing had shocked the community and no
one could fathom the reason for it.
Someone
had been looking for something but whether they had found what they’d sought
was anyone’s guess. Kelt did not mention the existence of the lightsaber or
the data cards his grandmother had hidden for over twenty years. Perhaps he
should have done so, but he wasn’t ready to face the fact that his family had
been killed because of an order that no longer existed. Doing so might bring the
same unwelcome attention upon himself.
Numb
with shock, Kelt had, with the help of his parents’ few close friends, dealt
with their burials. He had returned to his job at the mine but his heart was no
longer in it, if it ever had been. His decision made, he arranged for the
selling of the family property and finally, after packing a small holdall with
the things he wanted to keep and retrieving the lightsaber from where he’d
hidden it in the yakkara’s hut, he set off for the spaceport. He had to find
this young Jedi Knight his grandmother had spoken of before her death. The safe
and steady life he had been living wasn’t enough for him any more. He didn’t
belong in Osar now. Perhaps he could get a lift on one of the freighters away
from Osarian…perhaps the domestic shuttle to Rhommamool would take him to the
space station there. He had no idea where he had to go but he would trust to
luck. He paused then and frowned. His grandmother had once said that there was
no such thing as luck when she’d talked about the Force. Perhaps he would have
to trust to that.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Dagobah
– present time
With
a deep sigh of contentment, Luke landed his x-wing in its usual clearing. He
hadn’t wanted to go off-world on this occasion but the vision he’d had
called him to leave and search for some more Jedi artefacts. Luke knew that if
he hadn’t left at that particular time then someone else would have picked
them up. He hadn’t found much - a few books and a couple of holodiscs – but
it was enough to help him with his research. The things were better with him
than languishing in a vault or in a locked cupboard in some dusty library. He
was aware that Leia had others searching on his behalf back on Coruscant but
that didn’t really count. He wasn’t the only being out there after such
items and that worried him because some of them knew what the treasures could
do. There were many objects with dangerous powers hidden away throughout the
galaxy. The Emperor may have been killed but that did not mean that the Sith
were gone forever. The dark side always waited in the shadows, biding its time,
waiting for a weakness to exploit.
He
was building up quite a collection of data discs and information but all the
learning and information in the galaxy could not make the Jedi rise again
without suitable candidates and a place to train them. Yoda, Mace Windu and
Obi-Wan had done what they could to safeguard any surviving Jedi and families
with a history of regularly producing Force strong children but it was up to him
to find them again. Yoda was convinced that a registry of such children had been
kept safe from the Emperor. Luke had learned, to his amazement, that Yoda
wasn’t always right but in this case, he believed him.
Luke
jumped lightly from his X-wing to find Artoo waiting for him. He hadn’t taken
the little astromech droid with him on his trip this time as he’d felt that
someone needed to be here to watch over Yoda. “How is he?”
The
little droid gave a plaintive beep.
“Just
the same? I suppose that’s all we can hope for. Has he eaten at all?”
Artoo
whirred softly.
“He’s
slept most of the time,” Luke translated. “I suppose that’s something.
I’ll go and see him and make certain that he eats something. He has to keep up
his strength.”
The
little droid whistled.
Luke
rubbed his hand across his smooth chin. “Yes, Artoo. I did have a shave and a
proper haircut. Your point being?”
The
droid made a derogatory noise and rolled away.
“Artoo,
I am not vain about my appearance.”
The
droid hooted disdainfully.
“Yes,
it was ‘about time’. But Han was more concerned with how he looked than I
was, especially when Leia called him ‘scruffy.’ No one bothers what I look
like, Artoo. Leia would like it if I looked older but I can’t see what good
that might do. Yes, wisdom is not an instantaneous gift – it has to be
earned.” Luke’s glance at the little astromech was amused. “You’ve been
spending far too much time with Master Yoda, little fella.”
Luke
moved away from the droid, a tired smile crossing his face and then he stopped,
his face whitening, his smile vanishing, as something horrible slithered through
the layers of the Force he was now so attuned with. He felt sick to his stomach.
Something dark and evil had just happened. He hoped Master Yoda hadn’t
experienced this – it would not be good for his condition. Luke swallowed, his
whole body shaking.
Artoo
watched his master carefully and carefully monitored his vital signs. Something
was wrong.
Luke
leant against the trunk of a giant gnarl-tree and got himself under control.
This reminded him of how Obi-Wan had acted when the Death Star has destroyed
Alderaan. His face whitened again. It wasn’t something like that, was it? It
couldn’t be. He reached out into the galaxy and began to search as best he
could. The young Jedi wondered if he would feel the galaxy’s pain when it
happened. Surely no one could stand to endure that fate.
Nothing…
there was nothing…and then he felt it again – a little pocket of pain. No,
it wasn’t another Alderaan but someone’s safe little world had just
collapsed around them with just as much devastation and that person was
Force-strong and had unconsciously called out for help.
It
was confirmation of what Luke already knew. He was not alone in the galaxy.
There were others. It was time he rejoined the real world again. Luke knew that
there were people out there who needed him. Yes, he missed his friends and his
family and had grown to enjoy his solitude but not at the expense of aiding
another to ease his pain. Dev Sibwarra was long gone but Luke finally could
admit to himself that he had helped him in the end.
He
rubbed his hands across his face and decided to try and see if it was possible
to reach the woman again. Mara - her name was Mara. He knew it and should use it
when he thought of her. He wanted to think about her all the time, far more than
he should. Making her more anonymous in his own mind was perhaps a good thing.
But he couldn’t resist the search, the layers of the Force spinning him across
billions of worlds until he found her, bright shining and beautifully cold. She
would come to him soon and he would have to make preparations to deal with the
brand of anger she kept about herself like a protective shield.
He
would finish his holo to Leia after he had checked on Master Yoda and seen for
himself how he was faring.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Coruscant
Back
at her apartment, an uneasy Mara paced around her lounge, until she had made a
decision. She had to leave Coruscant and quickly. Something was happening here
that she hadn’t expected. It wasn’t right, whatever it was, but Mara knew
that she couldn’t deal with this alone. She had to find the only one who could
help her. How soon would it be before it was discovered that she’d taken
something from the site? How could she explain to the arresting agent that the
spectre of a dead Jedi Master had told her to take the items and give them to
the son of a man no-one, apart from herself, had seen in over three years?
She
pulled the objects out of her pockets. One of them looked like a data cube of
some description and the other? She had no idea. Both items were covered in
lumps of cortosis ore and would have to be thoroughly cleaned. The data cube
resembled a small box and it was difficult to tell what the true shape of the
other object was. But she hadn’t time to do anything with them right now. She
had to give them to the son of Skywalker, whoever that was. The Emperor would
not have been happy to hear that the Jedi had started breeding. Yes, she had to
admit that the holos of him showed that he was a handsome man but… What kind
of a woman fell for someone like that?
Luke
Skywalker had not, in her opinion, had much opportunity to father any children
– none of the rebel leadership had. Any son of Skywalker would still be a
young child unless…Then she snorted and could have hit herself for being so
dense. She wasn’t normally so slow on the uptake. This Qui-Gon was most
probably long dead; perhaps the Skywalker he had known was a relative of
the current one. Skywalker’s son was in fact the galaxy’s sole Jedi and
Organa’s brother. The twins had been raised apart to keep them safe from
Palpatine, especially if their father had been a Jedi who had died in the
purges. They might even have been her companions at the palace had they been
discovered while children. It was an unsettling thought.
She
felt a delicate touch as if someone had just reached out towards her. It was
like a warm feeling of light and security. It wasn’t the kind of feeling she
was used to. It reminded her of her brush with the Jedi on Druckenwell. It
couldn’t be Skywalker, not if he was so far away – could it? She had been
able to communicate with the Emperor anywhere in the galaxy but Skywalker surely
wasn’t that powerful. He had needed Vader’s help to kill her Master.
She
clenched her hands into fists wondering if her Master had sensed Vader’s final
betrayal. How could the Dark Lord of the Sith have done such a thing? Was there
no such thing as loyalty in his cowardly black heart? Palpatine had known of
Vader’s earlier offer to Skywalker on Bespin, which the young man had refused.
At some point he must have changed his mind. When pressed for an explanation,
Vader had confirmed his desire to bring the young Jedi to Palpatine. Mara
hadn’t believed it either.
Quickly,
Mara packed her belongings and, calling one of the droids Karrde had left for
her use whilst on Coruscant, sent it to the ship she was currently using – The
Lucky Strike - and began to get changed, ready for a long journey. She had
little more than twenty-four hours to get off world. Dagobah and the presence of
Luke Skywalker were calling to her.
She
had some things to do before she could leave. Leia Organa would hopefully thank
her one day – not that she was looking for thanks. But she might let the Jedi
live a bit longer.
Mara
had a hunch regarding the whereabouts of the mysterious Dagobah. Her instinct
told her it was probably in the Outer Rim away from the Core and the heart of
what had once been Palpatine’s Empire. Mara had met Skywalker on Druckenwell.
Leia had suspected that her brother had visited Praesitlyn. Mara wondered if
Dagobah was somewhere in between. It had definitely to be in that sector of
space. Much of it was still unexplored or damned impossible to get to in a hurry
– perfect for a Jedi who did not want to be found. There were always the
recognised trade and shipping routes that could take her quickly to the outer
reaches of the galaxy and then it could take some time to find what she was
looking for. Somewhere between the
It
was time to check the holo-star charts. But not the ones that the
The
She
flipped open her comlink. The Wild Karrde didn’t leave until tomorrow
so she still had time. “Buzzy!”
“Yep!”
He was a man of few words.
“I
need a couple of fake I.D’s.”
“Send
me the details and I’ll get back to you.”
“How
quick can you do it?”
“Pretty
quick.”
“Today?”
Mara queried.
“What
do you think I am, Jade?” he barked at her.
“The
best,” Mara answered, smiling.
“Well
then,” he said, sounding mollified. “I should think I could do it today.”
“How
soon today?”
“An
hour or two?”
“Perfect.
You are the best. Sending through the details.” Mara closed the link.
This was better than she had hoped for. Buzzy was a superb forger. Karrde only
worked with the finest craftsmen.
She
moved to her computer and began sending some details through of the kind of
identity she needed to become. Buzzy had an instinctive gift for picking the
most suitable aliases. True to the details Mara found a black wig and pulled it
over her not-inconsiderable amount of red-gold hair. The effect was startling.
Her green eyes shone brightly against the black hair and her creamy skin. The
word was alluring.
He
was true to his word. An hour later a courier arrived from the Wild Karrde with
the required documents and an hour after that, Doctor Sesil Stratholm, the newly
appointed head from an obscure university on the planet of Rhinnal, arrived for
a scheduled conference with Professor Xux Chan.
The
graduate student serving as the Professor’s assistant cleared his throat
loudly. “Professor Chan, a young woman has just arrived to see you. She says
you have an appointment.”
The
elderly man raised his head from the fragile, hand-written map he was studying,
his grey, wispy hair standing on end. “I have no appointment with anyone
today.”
Mara
was ready for that. She walked straight past the nervous looking graduate
student and stood before him, holding out her hand. “Doctor Sesil Stratholm
from the
Professor
Chan frowned. He didn’t like to be interrupted unless it was by something
important. “Yes,” he said shortly.
“I’m
sorry to intrude,” Mara apologised with her most charming smile. “I’ve
just accepted the vacant chair; the department’s terribly run down. I knew
that you were the foremost scholar in this field and I had to come and consult
you. As I said, I’m very well-acquainted with your work. Many of your texts
were required study when I was a student.”
The
elderly academic forgot his irascibility and peered over the top of his
out-moded view-enhancers and nearly fell off his chair. Sesil Stratholm stood
before him dressed in a smart grey business uniform that would have been
de-rigeur at the height of Palpatine’s Empire. She was a feast to the eyes -
opulent curves, flashing green eyes and hair like
“Professor,
my department has many glaring shortages. There has been little funding and no
updating for years.“ She sighed. “I was told by the Vice-Principal himself,
that you would be able to help me. In fact, that you were my only
hope.”
The
professor found himself quite willingly searching out hand drawn maps from
centuries before.
“This
is fascinating,” Sesil enthused over a map of somewhere in the Outer-Rim.
“Many of these worlds I have never heard of before. They are not marked on
current maps.”
Stunned
by her beauty and enthusiasm he found himself responding to her overtures.
“These worlds were not found to be habitable. There are no cities or
technology to make them interesting to our modern eyes.”
“They
exist and should be plotted. Don’t you think?”
“Yes.
I am currently working to produce a definitive map of the galaxy including all
areas of space until we reach the unknown regions. It is proving harder than I
first thought it would be. The galaxy is a vast place. It may be years before
survey teams can be sent”
“May
I have copies?” Mara asked, taking out her holo-recorder. “I can make up new
maps by using this little piece of equipment.”
“This
is highly unorthodox…”
“So
is leaving my new department in such a poorly equipped state. You would, of
course, be given full credit for any aid you might grant us. We could,” she
said slyly, “name one of our new lecture theatres after you. It would be a
great honour.”
“I
think we may have some duplicates,” he murmured. “Excuse me while I
check.”
Mara
inclined her head and watched him leave the room. As soon as she was alone she
slipped behind Chan’s desk and smiled with satisfaction. He had left his
computer running. Using
Professor
Chan returned just as Mara had finished downloading and slipped the discs into
her pocket without the old man noticing. It was a long trip to the Outer Rim;
she could do with some interesting reading material. It may even prove to be of
some benefit to Karrde’s organisation. Any maps she would copy for herself and
then donate anonymously to the
Mara
left the University district, walking down the stone steps with a studied
purposefulness which hid her haste. She had one more place to visit before she
could leave and this place was the most difficult for her. She had spent most of
her life in this very building.
The
vast edifice of the
She
walked into the cool marble hall, feeling strangely calm despite the number of
beings rushing to get to various destinations and stopped, appalled. They’d
taken out the trees.
Mara
stopped. “The trees?” she asked no one in particular. The grand corridor in
the
A
grey and gold trimmed guard coughed politely as he overheard her words. “I’m
sorry, Ma’am. They were diseased. All of them started dying…almost
overnight. It was a shame really because they added something to the grand
corridor. There are plans to replace them but these things take forever in
committee. Three years is nothing in a place as large as this.”
“Thank
you for telling me this,” Mara said carefully. “It’s been a long time
since I was here,” she surprised herself by admitting.
“Empire
kept you out most likely,” the guard said. “They’re gone now and you’re
free to do what you want.”
“Yes,”
Mara said slowly staring curiously at the guard. “I am.” Someone else glad
that the Empire was gone? She stood for a moment just staring at her
surroundings, mulling it over.
“Can
I help you, Mistress?”
“Yes.”
She flashed one of her counterfeit identity cards at the guard. “I need to see
whoever deals with the reclamation of lost art. My government has charged me
with retrieving sacred and precious items taken to Coruscant from my home
world.” She opened her briefcase and waved some official-looking documents in
the guard’s face.
“I
don’t need to see these, Mistress. Take the third turbolift to the hundred and
tenth floor and they will assist you in your task there. Good day, Mistress.”
“Thank
you.” Mara gave a distant smile and replaced the documents inside her
briefcase. It was good to know that the
The
place was deserted – excellent. Mara left the turbolift and marched up to the
desk. She knew she had gone through a biometric scanner but the readings it
would take would be false ones. Karrde’s people thought of everything. She
checked to see if the little device was still attached to the inside of her
stiff collar. A door slid aside and she could hear the computer’s bland voice
announce her arrival. Someone should be dispatched to deal with her request any
second now. She pulled out her bogus official forms and waited.
She
didn’t have to wait long – a young uniformed clerk approached and Mara
thrust her forms under his nose. “I am the representative on behalf of the
Government of Rhinnal. I have come to collect this artefact. We have just
discovered, after much investigation, that this is where it is being kept. I
made the journey from Rhinnal immediately. The documentation is all in order. Do
you know how many forms I have to fill in?” she demanded irately. “There
must be an easier way of dealing with all of this red tape. The artefact belongs
to the people of Rhinnal after all.” Mara couldn’t help but pick up on the
young clerk’s nervousness. This was probably the first time he’d been left
on his own. So much the better.
“That’s
the way it is at the moment. There are still some unscrupulous beings around who
would take advantage of the many treasures still stored here.”
“I
suppose you are right,” Mara said grudgingly. She stretched out with her now
strengthened Force ability and tried to gauge how many beings were in the other
room. Hopefully there wouldn’t be many. A smile crept over her face. She’d
been right all along when she’d sensed that this young man was manning the
department on his own for the moment. Fortune was on her side. Carefully, Mara
stretched out and something toppled in another room with an almighty crash. Such
a feat was extremely difficult for her but when the Emperor had been alive she
had managed such tricks with ease.
“What
was that?” she said, pretending to jump a little in surprise.
“I
don’t…”
“It
sounded like something large breaking.”
The
clerk’s face blanched. “No!”
“Go
and deal with it. I have time to wait. I would not like to think that something
as precious to another world as my artefact is to ours has suffered a fatal
accident. Go.” Mara picked up her briefcase and made a point of deliberately
sitting down on some plush black nerf-leather seating.
“Excuse
me,” he muttered and ran out of the room to check on whatever disaster had
happened next door.
Mara
smirked and opened her briefcase. The bubble disrupter blanked out the security
holocams as soon as she toggled the switch. “Easy, when you know how,” she
murmured in a low voice before turning and pressing the head of a fanciful beast
decorating the wall behind her. There was a click and an agonisingly loud scrape
as the panel slid reluctantly aside revealing a passageway. No one had used this
method of entry for some time. So some of the Emperor’s secrets were still
intact.
She
did not have much time – probably only minutes. Mara ran as quickly as she
could down a narrow dark passage, keeping her senses attuned to the clerk’s
movements. The passageway opened out into a large square room where rows and
rows of durasteel cabinets stood covered in several years’ worth of cobwebs
and dust. She checked the illuminated display on her wrist chrono and shone it
down onto a code etched into the side of one of the cabinets. With a soft
whirring sound it slid open smoothly. “It should be in this section but I
can’t see the contents,” she gritted irritably as she dug into the drawer.
“I don’t have time for…Aha!” Her fingers closed over the required item.
Mara
keyed a code into a security pad and another drawer slid open. Grinning with
relief, she stowed the contents of the drawer inside her briefcase and hurried
back to where she hoped the clerk had not returned. A gaping hole in the wall
would cause too much interest and she didn’t have time for explanations right
now. She would donate the knowledge of the secret panel to Organa once she had
left Coruscant. Pressing the animal’s head once more she watched as the panel
slid agonisingly slowly back into place, the grinding noise it was making had to
be heard in the entrance hall, one hundred floors below, let alone in the next
room. “Hurry,” she whispered, urging it on.
Just
at that moment the young man returned, shaken, to where Mara sat waiting. “A
vase just toppled off its plinth of its own accord,” he said, his pimply face
bewildered.
“These
things happen without explanation. I hope it wasn’t too valuable a
specimen,” she said with fake sympathy. “I’ll come back tomorrow and
assure your superiors that you were nowhere near the vase. How could you have
anything to do with it when you weren’t even in the same room?” Mara stood
up, surreptitiously brushing a large stringy cobweb that she hoped the clerk
hadn’t noticed from her shoulder.
“No,
it’s alright. I will deal with it once you have gone. The holocams will have
picked it up.”
“I’ll
come back tomorrow. You need the time and space to clear up.” She picked up
her briefcase and walked out of the office and into the turbolift and then out
of the palace. ‘Next stop, the spaceport,’ Mara said briskly to herself.
‘And Dagobah.’ She had what she needed.