Out of the Shadows 27

The Lucky Strike – Somewhere in hyperspace

"Goodnight, Mara," Luke said politely, his manner formal, squashing down the irrational disappointment he felt. So, she was saying that she didn't want to become a Jedi Knight, was she? But he'd been so sure…he could feel her need to embrace the Force. It was as necessary to her as breathing. She'd stayed on Dagobah with him far longer than she'd needed to – she'd listened to his teaching and learned from it.

"Not everything revolves around the Jedi," Mara retorted, irritated by Luke's statement that his fight should also become hers. "Maybe that's the reason that they completely disappeared from the galaxy. They were too caught up in themselves and their petty disputes to do what they were supposed to be doing – protecting the galaxy."

"Not all of them disappeared," Luke countered. "Some stayed."

"One old man and an ancient green gnome, both of them in hiding, do not count," she returned with a sneer. "That's hardly protecting the galaxy."

"No, not the galaxy. They were protecting me," he whispered. He tried to push away his feelings of frustration and disappointment. She would regret rejecting the Jedi. She would search to the end of her days for something to give her life true meaning. In the end she would find only failure and regret. He could see it as a certainty. Perhaps she did not think he was capable of training future Jedi. He opened his mouth to say something that would salvage his hurt pride.

"No, my young Jedi. Think before you speak and do not drive her away with ill-conceived words and rash actions. Remember her history – her life in the service of the Emperor. You must tread cautiously. One day you will need one another. Mara Jade must become a Jedi. It is her right and her destiny but she will not be easy to win to our cause. Please think before speaking. Say the wrong thing and all is lost."

The voice in his head was clear and well-spoken but unfamiliar to him. Who could this be? Possibly someone interested in Mara – a Jedi anchoring their spirit to her. Could this be the voice of Qui-Gon Jinn? Mara had already revealed that she'd been visited by the spirit of Obi-Wan's former master. Could this be the voice of reason Luke was obviously lacking?

It suddenly struck him that this was the way that Mara was. She was fighting her destiny because of the way she had been controlled by Palpatine. The voice had spoken the truth. How could he be so foolish? He could not force her; she had to choose to take that path on her own but perhaps he could help her see the `way of the Jedi' as the correct route in the manner that Obi-Wan and Yoda had done for Luke. He smiled inwardly at his own pun. She would have to come to him on her own terms or at least believing that they were her own terms. He wasn't thinking clearly when it came to Mara because his desire to help her quickly was clouding his better judgement. She'd been raised her entire life to view the Jedi as the enemy and Luke Skywalker as the greatest foe of all. He still had a lot to learn on how to deal with people and should never forget it.

The Jedi stood still, his expression difficult to gauge. "Skywalker…" Mara said warily. She knew that the finding and training of Jedi was going to be Skywalker's all-consuming lifetime's work. Mara wasn't sure that she wanted to be a part of it – she wasn't sure if she could…if she even had what it took. She'd given everything she'd had in the service of the Emperor and suspected that she'd little left to give. His life would be cut short anyway - she was still going to kill him. But the vow was weaker than it had ever been.

"I will take the next shift," he interrupted, sensing her vacillating emotions and guarding his own. She was a shrewd judge of character and could easily, without knowing, be picking up things through the Force about him. A little less attention on her could be productive in the long run. Mara's competitive nature meant that she would not want to be thought lacking in ability. Arguing with her would only make her dig her defences deeper.

"You don't have to take shifts," Mara demurred, wondering why he had given up so suddenly and if she should apologise, yet not really knowing what she was sorry about. She wasn't in the habit of saying that she was sorry to anyone.

"I do," he insisted stoutly. "You need to rest. We both do. A diet of stimpils and ration bars is no substitute for proper rest and real food."

"I eat real food," Mara muttered.

"You do, since you've been in my company," he countered.

"And that is a recommendation for remaining in your company?"

"If you want to, I don't mind. But remember, I will try and teach you the way of the Jedi. If you think that is worth also eating properly it's a start." He smiled benignly. "I will do my part in monitoring the ship."

"If you're sure?" She was looking at him curiously.

Luke nodded. "I am. I don't really need to tell you that it's best to be cautious this far out on the Rim. I do not sense any danger but it would be wise to be careful. I will take my share of the watch duty. It is only fair."

"Very well." There was nothing else she could say. He was right.

"Goodnight, Mara," he said again.

He walked from the crew area and Mara heard his cabin door closing. She frowned. So she didn't want to be a Jedi - what was wrong with that? But she thought he might have protested a little more over her decision. "I don't want to be a Jedi, not if I end up like Skywalker."

"Liar."

"Stay out of my head, Skywalker," she gritted angrily. But as soon as the words had left her lips she knew she'd been mistaken. This wasn't Skywalker. Living with the young Jedi for several weeks had taught her that he meant what he said. He would not invade her private thoughts without her permission. It would not gain him any favours. No, this was a different voice – a voice she'd heard before. "Qui- Gon," she said with understanding. If Skywalker's theories were correct, this Qui-Gon Jinn had decided to anchor his spirit to hers as a sort of guide. She'd barely managed to get rid of the Emperor's voice in her head – in fact, wasn't certain that he'd really gone – and now Palpatine's harsh voice had been replaced by the cultured tones of a long dead Jedi Master. Her soft lips tightened. Just what she didn't need, she groused inwardly. She couldn't calmly dispatch this Jedi to another plane of existence.

"Qui-Gon!" she called softly, feeling rather foolish talking to a voice inside her head. The Emperor was different. Qui-Gon had been dead for years. "I can't become a Jedi – not yet."

But no one answered her. She was alone. Just Mara Jade, her starship and…Skywalker. He had to be reading her mind despite all his words to the contrary. He knew far too much about what she was thinking.

"I'm not capable of becoming a Jedi," she said softly. It would be far better to walk away before she disappointed both herself and Skywalker.

But Skywalker was right about one thing although she wouldn't admit that to his pretty face without being tortured by an imperial interrogator droid. She did want to learn how to use the Force, or the part of her that didn't feel she was betraying her master did. What would the Emperor think about her secret desire? Had Palpatine thought that she was capable of more advanced Jedi training? If he had, he'd never said. Skywalker certainly did think she was capable and she couldn't help but be flattered.

"I saw a dark fortress."

Skywalker's words echoed in her head. Her master had several fortresses that Skywalker would consider dark. But there was one above all others… Could it be? With deliberate strength of will, Mara suppressed a shiver.

She stared around the empty crew area. It was clean, tidy and functional, yet it felt lonely. She'd never felt that way before, not when flying. It was one of the things that she loved to do. It was one of the only times that she considered herself to be truly free. Mara blinked in surprise. She'd always considered herself a free citizen of the Empire – hadn't she?

Skywalker could be annoying but he was never dull despite what she said to him on a daily basis. She reached into her own mind and tried to see if she could still hear the voice of her master despite her trepidation at doing so. But there was nothing – no voice inside her head telling her what she should do with the rest of her life – nothing to guide her onto the next stage. She was alone with only her own disturbing thoughts telling her what to do.

Skywalker seemed to be so certain of what he wanted to do and she envied him his conviction. Mara knew that she could help him if she wanted to. Did she want to…really help him? It wasn't that she wanted to become like him. All the knowledge she had of the Jedi indicated that their lives were sterile. `And yours is not?' a little voice mocked. Mara scowled but at least it was her own voice she was hearing for once.

Could she guide Skywalker to the location of his visions - the dark fortress? It was possible; she was an experienced operative after all and who knew better Palpatine's haunts than she did? It wasn't just the risk to their lives she had to consider – there was also her sanity. He could draw her into his world with a single glance and she'd never felt such a dangerous threat before. Never get too close to your victims had always seemed to be a sound piece of advice. Mara was beginning to wonder if she'd become too close to this one. Yet the desire to study as much as she could about Jedi techniques was strong. If she guided him to the fortress she would be able to learn what she could and then return to her job with Karrde and his smugglers. She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger and sighed. What was she thinking of? She didn't need to be trained. She wanted nothing more to do with Skywalker and his Jedi plans. She worked for Talon Karrde – she was a trader and she enjoyed being exactly that.

It didn't sound as glamorous and exciting as being able to say that she was a Jedi Knight.

She stood up and walked to the door of Skywalker's cabin. He wasn't asleep. She could hear him moving about inside and before she lost her nerve, she tapped gently on the door and walked in. It wasn't locked.

"Skywalker…! Oh! I'm sorry." Mara stared stupidly at the bare-chested man caught in the midst of undressing, his hands on the waistband of his black pants ready to pull them down over his trim hips, a glimpse of grey fabric below.

"Another couple of seconds and it might have been embarrassing," he commented wryly, his hands falling away from his hips, hoping that the light flush on his face wasn't too apparent in the dim lighting. "What is it?"

Mara swallowed, her eyes unwillingly tracking his lean, muscled frame. Her stomach lurched and her heart did an awkward flip inside her chest. He was beautiful – she had to admit it. There wasn't a spare inch of flesh anywhere on his body. This was wrong, this… feeling she was experiencing. He was her enemy and one day she would have to kill him even if she didn't want to. It would come down to that – Skywalker or Jade. She wasn't so naïve that she didn't recognise desire when it hit her. She just hadn't expected to feel that so strongly for this man.

"Mara?" Luke could sense some tension within her and nervously ran his hands through his already tousled hair - the movement, as he lifted his hands, making muscles ripple underneath his smooth skin.

"So you wear grey underpants," she managed to say. "That's hardly going to set the universe on fire." But it was the sudden realisation of what was under the clinging grey fabric that was turning her thoughts to mush.

"I don't advertise it…normally. Mara, did you want to tell me something important? My next load of washing is not a topic worth discussing."

"Byss," she managed to say, her throat dry, as she thrust the disturbing feeling into the corner of her mind. If she continued to ignore it, it would go away.

"What?"

"Byss," she repeated. "It's a where, not a what."

"I've heard of it. The Abyssin species…" His mind dimly recalled some of the galactic geography classes he'd taken when he'd still considered entering the Imperial training Academy. Wasn't it another desert planet like Tatooine? Destiny in the shape of Obi-Wan Kenobi, Leia and Han had changed his mind.

"No, not there."

"There's another planet named Byss?" Luke sat down on his bunk, reaching for a pale blue shirt with which to cover himself. "Of course there is." Yoda had talked about places strong with the dark side of the Force. Sith strongholds, their secrets passed down from master to apprentice, were sources of great danger. Byss was a secret planet hidden in the deep Core accessible only through certain routes because of the complexity of navigating through the dense mass of stars. It was a secret to most beings but Yoda had known about it. Hiding a grin, he pulled the shirt over his head and tried to flatten his hair which refused to oblige him.

Mara stepped back and stood in the open doorway, her eyes skittering away from his. "It's well hidden," she muttered, stepping forward again. "Not many know the way to the fortress itself."

"But you do." Luke's eyes took on a watchful glint. Why had she suddenly decided to tell him this?

"Yes. I know the way. It's in the Deep Core."

"Oh," Luke didn't say that he'd been told about Byss by Yoda. He guessed that it was not easy for Mara to offer him help - not if she was talking about Palpatine's most hidden seat of power.

"The hyperspace lanes are difficult to navigate through for all but the most experienced pilots." Mara tried to read the expression on his face and could not. She didn't yet know what she was doing but she reached out and attempted to penetrate the shields that Luke had placed around his mind.

"And of course, you are an experienced pilot." Luke felt her attempts to access his mind. She wouldn't get anywhere but at least she was trying to use her powers. "What exactly is there, Mara?"

"A dark fortress," she answered quietly, still not getting anything from the man before her. "The Emperor had several you would consider `dark' but this one was his private retreat – his most secret citadel. When he went there the court stayed on Coruscant. It was the nearest he ever was to being alone. There are many pieces there that you might find…interesting." Her voice cooled. "Vader also had property on Byss. He was the only one that I can remember ever regularly accompanied the Emperor there."

"To be near his master," Luke murmured, stiffening slightly at the frosty mention of his father. "It makes perfect sense – to protect as well as serve. If I decide that I need to go there…" Luke suspected that it wouldn't be an option if the intensity of his vision had anything to do with it. But he'd learned one lesson over the years – not to go rushing off without doing his homework first. "Can you give me the co-ordinates?"

"I…think so. I would have to work them out… But…" Mara hesitated - wanting to say more.

"That would be most helpful," Luke said politely, as if he was exchanging small talk at a society function. He stood up and walked towards her as if ushering her to the door. "I will relieve you in six hours, if that is convenient?"

Mara couldn't believe that he was dismissing her. He was civil but it was a dismissal nonetheless. Normally he was almost desperate to talk to her. Why wasn't he attempting to change her mind about the Jedi training? Frowning, she narrowed her sharp green gaze on him. It was almost as if he was waiting for her to do something.

"Something else, Mara?" Luke asked pleasantly.

"I could take you there," she said, the words emerging from her mouth without her head's consent. Mara thought that she'd already made her decision with regard to Skywalker. She wanted to see less of the Jedi, not more. "It would be easier than giving you the co-ordinates."

"Thank you but that is not necessary," Luke declined courteously. "I am quite capable of setting my navicomp to the correct co-ordinates and following them. The Force will help to guide me."

"Oh!" Mara muttered. That wasn't the answer she'd expected to hear. "But suppose I don't want to just give you the co-ordinates."

Luke arched an eyebrow, his well-shaped mouth curling sardonically. "I see that you want to name your price, Jade. You are a true galactic trader after all. Talon Karrde would be proud of you."

Mara's green eyes narrowed suspiciously. Skywalker never called her by her surname. It was always just `Mara'. In fact, he was one of the few people to do so. But there had been a hard edge to his voice this time as if he was disappointed in her. "Listen, you son of a…"

"Goodnight again, Mara. I should really get some sleep if I'm to be alert enough in six hours to relieve you," he said mildly, cutting off her derogatory words, an amiable smile on his lips and Mara wanted to smack the complacent expression from his face. So she was back to `Mara' again, was she? He took a couple more steps forward and she backed away.

Skywalker didn't know what he was getting himself into. She'd only been in the fortress on Byss a couple of times – if that was indeed the right place - and there were no guarantees. It wasn't somewhere she would choose to go willingly. The actual journey to the planet itself had been a difficult one.

She somehow found herself out in the corridor and the cabin door closed. "Sithspawned Jedi…" she swore quietly. How had he managed to do that without feeling the effects of her small holdout blaster?

It was one thing to take him to Byss but it was quite another to actually get inside one of Palpatine's fortresses. She'd thought that he would have been glad to have more of a chance to convert her to the Jedi cause but she'd obviously been incorrect. She wasn't going to take him anywhere after this trip…ever…no matter how many credits he and Solo offered to pay her. This was the last time she would ever transport a Jedi. Palpatine had been right about all of them.

Mara considered that she'd known Palpatine better than anyone else and yet she hadn't known him at all. Skywalker she had been with for a couple of weeks and now felt that she knew him better than maybe even herself. If Luke Skywalker thought that he could just stroll into the fortress on Byss and collect its contents, he was gravely mistaken. This wasn't some Death Star he was attempting to rescue a princess from. There was an air of… She slumped against the bulkhead, her mind in a whirl. Her master's retreat on Byss could only be described as having an aura of evil about it but she'd never put it into such plain words before. She'd never liked being there – the whole atmosphere of the palace had made her feel uncomfortable. Things happened and beings disappeared never to be seen again. Every leader did things he wasn't proud of for the good of his people but Mara couldn't fool herself any longer as much as she wanted to.

Why did Skywalker want to go to Byss? What had he seen in his visions that frightened him? And Mara somehow knew that he did feel fear.

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For the next two days Mara continued to mull over the situation that she found herself in – wanting to become proficient in the Jedi arts, yet not admitting to any more weaknesses in front of Skywalker. She didn't want to help him yet felt driven by some instinct to offer him her aid. She saw little of the young Jedi. She had the impression that he was avoiding her as much as he could within the claustrophobic confines of the ship for some reason and she knew that he was worried about the vision he had seen. They each took their share of manning the controls - one watching the ship as the other slept and at other times, the Jedi appeared to be meditating in his cabin while Mara carried out routine maintenance, loudly banging tools against the corridor bulkheads. He had offered his aid but had been brusquely declined. `You're not being very nice to him,' her little voice chided. She ignored it.

Thankfully, Mara thought with a mixture of relief and regret, their time together would soon be over. In a little under two more days they would be close enough for Skywalker to contact his family. She would have to revert to real space shortly anyway to make some nav adjustments. She supposed she should let the Jedi know that they were entering real space so soon. She reached out to check on his wakefulness with an ease she might have found disturbing if she'd considered it. For once, he wasn't hiding in his cabin.

The sound of a lightsaber drew her to the cargo area not cluttered with Skywalker's pitiful belongings. Mara caught her breath. Dressed in nothing but a pair of exercise shorts, his legs and feet bare, the Jedi was executing a series of complicated manoeuvres, wielding the saber with a skill that she'd never witnessed in him before. He had sparred with her several times while she'd been on Dagobah but it had been nothing like this. This reminded her of the rigorous drill exercises her tutors had made her perform daily until her body became fit and strong, combined with the grace of a dancer. He'd been going easy on her and still beating her soundly. That was not a situation with which she was comfortable. Mara wondered why she'd had the actual nerve to think that she could beat him in a fight and she did not like to think that there were combat styles in which she was second best. Whatever happened between them she would make sure that Skywalker taught her how to use the lightsaber properly.

"Even the most skilled of us have weaknesses," Luke said, shutting down his weapon, correctly judging the expression on her face. "I told you once before that I can be beaten."

"What!" Her eyes narrowed dangerously at him.

Luke shrugged. "You did not shield your thoughts from me and also, your face gave you away. You have a competitive nature, Mara Jade. I would not access your mind without your permission. In some ways you are more skilled at using your abilities in that area than I am. Take communication, for instance. You can connect with others over vast distances. Much further than I can."

"I…I…forgot to shield," Mara said lamely, inwardly cursing herself. Her skills were growing lax. Palpatine had taught her how to shield from all but the strongest of Force users but since his death she'd encountered few and she'd grown careless. She'd been taught to dissemble and disguise herself in front of others so as to fool them. Even Vader had difficulty divining her thoughts but Skywalker could see through her more clearly than the thinnest sheet of transparisteel. "You've not asked me to do any more training," she mumbled, trying to fill the awkward silence that had sprung up between them. "I can do a lot in a couple of days."

"You told me that you had no desire to become a Jedi. Why should I waste my time and energy training you?"

The look Mara gave him was penetrating. He was definitely up to something. She could almost see the plans spinning and hatching inside his mind. "You are not the type of man to give up on someone, Skywalker."

Luke chuckled. "Possibly…possibly not."

"I think I know you quite well already," Mara stated confidently. "I have studied many reports about you."

"I think those were the wrong kind of reports," Luke quipped, the grin lighting his features making him seem very young. "Those imperials have got me all wrong. I'm a nice guy underneath the Jedi cloak."

Despite herself, her lips twitched. "I make my own judgements."

Luke shook his head, the smile fading. "I disagree," he said. It was all a web of Imperial lies and propaganda – he wasn't evil. "You believe all the lies about me and do not reach for the truth."

"You're still alive, aren't you?" Mara levelled a glare at him. "And I didn't say that I did not want to become a Jedi."

"Not in so many words," Luke countered neatly. "But that was the impression you gave me."

"Typical man." She shook her head, the red gold waves curling over her shoulders. "You don't listen, do you?"

"I think I got the message you intended to send," Luke said quietly. "Messages can be conveyed by other methods than words. My Jedi teachers taught me that my eyes can deceive me. If that is the case, then so can my ears. Some beings only hear what they want to hear and discount the rest. You do not like me or trust me and what I represent. If you search your feelings you will know the truth but you are not prepared to do that as changing your image of me would mean that you had to alter your opinions on virtually everything. You are afraid that your whole life is based on a lie."

"Yes," she said, surprising both herself and him with her honesty. "I am but…"

"I would be too if I were in your position," Luke murmured, knowing that this was the truth. "You served Palpatine honourably, believing in him. Why would he lie to you? Believe when I say that I do understand."

"I will take you to Byss," she stated firmly, ignoring his words. She was not ready to answer him…didn't know what to say. It was just too difficult to believe him about the facts of her master's death despite her growing doubts. Yet Skywalker hadn't shown himself to be a dishonest person while she'd been with him. Everything his sister and his friends had reported to her appeared to be true. They had also said that he was strong with the Force; they hadn't said that he was as powerful as Vader had been but he was. She could feel it. "I need to go there as much as you do, Skywalker. I need to find some solutions for myself."

"And the Jedi training?" Luke kept his voice and face impassive but inwardly he was beginning to feel real hope. She didn't like the fact that he had apparently given up on her and was finally questioning the Emperor's lies. She wasn't ready to admit it but she was beginning to use her brain properly with regards to Palpatine.

Mara looked haunted. "I…don't know," she whispered.

"Then I'll say no more about it," Luke assured her. "I understand your uncertainty. I would like to train you but it is a difficult life and only the most able and dedicated Force adepts would manage to last the training."

Mara drew herself up to her full height, her eyes flashing green fire as anger began to take hold. "Are you insinuating that I would not be capable?" she bit out, her whole body stiffening at the implied slur.

"No, not at all," Luke returned serenely, hoping that she didn't see through his subterfuge quite yet. She was highly intelligent and would not be fooled for long. Keeping himself calm and her off- balance was the only way he was going to get through to her. "Your sense in the Force shines brighter than anyone I've ever met apart from my sister and my Jedi masters but your inability to trust and control your anger against me would be a drawback." He moved into the centre of the cargo hold, readying his saber for another cadence and balancing himself lightly on the balls of his feet, all the time preparing himself for the explosion that appeared to be building inside the slender red-haired woman who stood clenching her fists mere feet away from him. "Mara…your ability to train is beyond question," he stated, fixing her in place with his vivid blue gaze. "Your readiness and desire is another matter entirely."

There had been a compliment in there, Mara decided, her anger cooling slightly. "Explain," she snapped.

"You are not ready to give up the life you have finally achieved for yourself with Karrde and his organisation to follow the Jedi path," Luke said simply, understanding in his voice. She'd been Palpatine's servant since she was a child and for several years after his death had led a precarious existence on the fringes of society. Finally she had a job which suited her talents, a measure of freedom to do what she wanted to do and generous payment for her efforts.

Just because Mara had strong Force ability did not mean that she wanted to become a Jedi immediately. It was no sinecure. The life was hard, lonely and dangerous. So why was he doing it, Luke wondered slowly? He thought briefly of his father. The Force had run strong in Anakin Skywalker but it hadn't made him a good Jedi. He had been too emotional…too impatient, too easily lured by Palpatine and the dark side and so the rest of the galaxy and the Jedi had suffered the consequences.

If the Force favoured him, Mara would become a Jedi in time but the time was not now and Luke had to be patient. She had just regained her full strength in the Force. Ripping the natural Force inhibitor Palpatine had installed so abruptly from her mind had perhaps not been the best way to go about things but it had been the only chance he'd had at the time and something had told him that it had to be done then.

He could not let his desire to find and train new Jedi blind him to the possible pitfalls. As much as he wanted this for Mara Jade, she had to want it even more strongly and she was simply not ready to drop everything she had achieved with Karrde and his organisation. Oh, she wanted to learn the tricks to make her more efficient in her everyday life but she wasn't ready to make that all-important final commitment to the Jedi Order. Luke was ashamed that he had tried to push her into such a step. Mara wasn't the only one who needed to learn.

"Mara," he said softly. "This is not about me – it's about you. It has to be what you want. I know what I want. You do not – not yet."

"I have obligations," she said, realising for the first time in her life that she really did have a choice. "My life has never been about what I want."

"I know that feeling," Luke murmured ruefully. "But things change."

"I like working for Karrde and I owe him my loyalty and some time. He gave me a job when I badly needed it but it was more than just a job – it was a chance to be someone with a purpose again. It would be difficult to be with the organisation and also train with you." Mara's gaze dropped to the lightsaber hanging at her waist.

"Yes, but if that was what you really wanted we could try to work around it. I'm sorry that I tried to push you into something before you were ready." He gave a weary sigh. "You are Force-strong and you can recognise that talent in others. You have a rare ability for communicating over vast distances. When you open naturally to the Force, your presence calls across the miles of space. That's one of the reasons I knew you were coming."

"Yes," she said slowly. "It was not a surprise to you." The Emperor had been able to call to her from anywhere in the galaxy. She'd always assumed that the power was his… Suppose she was the one with that kind of power. The thought seemed almost disloyal.

"I cannot connect that easily with my own sister," Luke said quietly. "Yes, we can communicate but it's nothing like this – nothing so clear and immediate. Just when we're close or in trouble…"

"Oh." Mara didn't think there was anything else to say.

"Perhaps you can help with the search for the lost Jedi when you have the time. I would be most appreciative of any aid you can give me. I need all the help that I can get. You will be travelling for Karrde… could keep a sharp eye and ear out for anything that could lead to someone blessed with the gift of the Force."

Mara swallowed and nodded. "I can still take you to Byss," she said. "I've been there before and have some awareness of the territory. Don't ignore any help I may be able to give."

"I won't." His eyes gleamed with a mischievous twinkle. "I wasn't going to. This is going to need some careful planning. Free agent though I technically am, I would suspect that it may be some time before I can disappear on another trip."

Mara chuckled. "Ah yes, Leia and Solo. Not to mention Mon Mothma and all the other politicians wanting you to become the Republic's tame Jedi."

Luke sighed. "We both know that I cannot be that, Mara, and it could cause many problems if that was how I was perceived. I need to be just as available to those in what continues to be Imperially held space and worlds not yet affiliated with the New Republic. Not everyone will understand."

A chime sounded through the ship's com system. Mara glanced at her wrist chrono, her eyes widening. "Follow me, Skywalker." She crooked her finger and he meekly followed her along the corridor and into the cockpit. "We're reverting to real space for some minor nav changes in..." She held up her wrist chrono. "Five minutes. You should be able to contact Leia and speak to her and Solo in person."

"Mara…" Luke placed his hand on her arm. "What are we now?"

"I don't know what you mean," she stuttered, her eyes following the bare arm to his still bare chest. Her gaze dropped lower and then immediately snapped up to fasten upon Luke's face. "You need to get dressed."

"I feel a connection between us. I just wanted to know if you still want to kill me?"

Mara stared at him. "No," she whispered. "I should but I don't."

He exhaled softly. "Good." Luke took his courage in both hands and moved closer. Leia could wait a few more minutes – this could not. "Are we…friends?"

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Bastion – Imperial Headquarters

It had been a long journey to the headquarters of the Imperial remnant located deep in the Sartinayan system where they'd retreated to after their final, humiliating defeat by the New Republic. In the beginning there had been a few bad tempered border skirmishes but, after the first treaty had been signed, there had been a wary peace as each side fought to rebuild and recover. Several treaties later things were stable if not exactly cordial.

With the excavation of the Jedi temple well under way, Folla had not wanted to be away from the Core. But it wasn't just that. Something was brewing within the Force itself and that worried her most of all. She knew that she could access the Force but wasn't strong enough without her master. She needed help and this was the most likely place to get it. There were still people here who sought power. Folla knew that with their aid she could deliver the power they craved. For this power she was prepared to sacrifice her anonymity.

"The Director will see you now, Doctor Rule."

"Thank you." Folla lifted a hand to her dark hair to check that her elegant chignon was still in place, smoothed the front of her dark blue tunic and got to her feet, ready to follow the black-suited soldier through the garrison's endless corridors of uniform grey. It was the one thing she didn't miss about the Imperials being in charge on Coruscant. They had no imagination when it came to style, colour and design. She walked into a large outer office, carpeted in grey with the Imperial logo woven into it in blue and containing four desks. Every Imperial garrison and office complex anywhere in the galaxy looked exactly the same. It would make archaeologists work rather easy in years to come - but not very exciting.

"Doctor Rule to see the Director, Sergeant Pieper," her escort announced to the director's chief assistant, a middle aged, square- jawed man with a severe haircut.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Gruber. That will be all for now." The man addressed as Sergeant Pieper dismissed the younger man without even looking at him, all his attention focused on Folla. "You are to go straight in." He pressed something on his computer screen and the door slid open.

Folla walked sedately into the huge lavishly decorated office. The imperial grey décor had vanished and in its place was understated but elegant luxury in muted golds and reds. As she moved forward, she paused, glancing into one of the display cases positioned artfully around the room. Her eyes widened as they spied an object in the case. It was a slender vase, fired to a deep dull red with delicate gold tracing around the base. That vase was incredibly rare and at least three thousand years old. Where had it been found? Folla was still an archaeologist.

"To the victor go the spoils," said a cold voice. "It came from the Emperor's private collection and was a personal gift to me. Folla! It is good to see you. I'm surprised you were able to get away right now."

Folla dragged her attention from the vase to the woman who lounged in an enormous black nerf-leather repulsor chair and took a deep breath. The chair's occupant hadn't changed – perhaps she had aged a little but one eye was still as blue as a cold day on Hoth and her other, a molten fiery red. "It wasn't easy, Director Isard."

"I'm sure your absence has been regretfully noted." The strange mismatched eyes fastened intently upon Folla. "Doctor Folla Rule, chief xenoarchaeologist at Coruscant University amongst other things," Ysanne Isard stated frostily. "You seem to have survived the changes on Coruscant with ease." Her words were mildly accusing. "It's been at least three or four years since we last met." She waved the other woman to a seat opposite her.

"I am an academic, Ysanne," Folla declared as she sat down. "Not a politician or a member of the military. Why wouldn't I survive?"

"Why indeed?" Isard said sardonically. "I have managed to keep track of some of your accomplishments over the past few years. I think `Academic' is the least of your accomplishments."

Folla's carefully painted lips stretched into a mirthless smile. She could match Isard's verbal fencing easily. "I would expect nothing less from you. Compnor is still operational?"

"Of course. It is necessary to keep track of things even here."

"I am speaking to the real Ysanne Isard and not one of her clones?" Folla asked archly.

Ysanne Isard threw back her head and laughed, the sound grating. "Your humour hasn't changed, Folla, despite being in the pay of the New Republic."

"I merely work for them. They do not have my loyalty. It remains true." Folla's composure held. She could show no weakness in this room.

"Admirable sentiments indeed," Isard said approvingly. "The quest for power is still as strong."

"It takes one to recognise it in another." Folla refused to let her gaze flicker away from the mismatched eyes. "But my loyalty is to myself."

Isard relaxed into her chair as the opening skirmish faded away. "To return to the matter of my identity, Folla - that is rather a personal question."

Folla's dark eyes gleamed. "It had to be asked. You know I don't trust you."

"The feeling is mutual."

Suddenly a door Folla hadn't noticed at the side of the room opened and a tall stern-faced man walked in, dressed in a uniform Folla hadn't seen for some time. This man was a Grand Moff?

"You did not inform me that you had a visitor, Ysanne," he said mildly but Folla got the impression that there was veiled disapproval hidden within his words. "I suggest you introduce me."

Isard sat up straighter in her chair and glared at the interruption. She was obviously not pleased to see him. "Folla," she said, her voice icy cold. "This is Grand Moff Westol. He is the new head of the base on Bastion and governor of this sector."

Folla stood up and bowed her head in greeting. "Moff Westol," she murmured. It wasn't a name she recognised but his face did seem familiar. She had the impression that he knew exactly who she was and had known even before she set one foot inside Isard's office.

"Pieter," Isard drawled languidly, her voice at odds with the look in her eyes. "This is Doctor Folla Rule, the noted xenoarchaeologist from the University of Coruscant."

The moff bowed, his grey eyes like shrewd chips of duracrete. "I have heard of your name, Doctor Rule, but my wife did not tell me that you were expected on Bastion."

"Wife!" Folla blurted out in surprise. This was unexpected news. "You are married, Ysanne?"

Isard scowled. "Not one of my most successful endeavours."

"This is a recent event?" Folla asked curiously. Ysanne Isard had long courted power and was even rumoured to have been one of Emperor Palpatine's lovers. The Emperor was dead but it hadn't taken Isard long to attach herself to a possible successor. The relationship could be based on a twisted version of keeping your friends close and your enemies closer.

"The honeymoon period has long been over if that's what you are asking," Isard snapped bitterly.

Moff Westol bared his teeth in an imitation of a smile that did not reach his eyes. "I think our…arrangement has worked well for us with mutual benefits for all."

"Congratulations," Folla said carefully. She had the impression that the marriage was a stormy one. She felt the power shift in the room and rest with whom it really belonged. Grand Moff Westol was in charge and the newly titled Ysanne Isard-Westol did not like it. "I hope you'll both be very happy."

"Unlikely," Isard snorted.

The moff pulled up a repulsor chair and sat close to his wife which Folla could tell annoyed her. "So why are you here?" he asked. His grey eyes focussed intently on Folla. "It's rather out of your way."

"I have business in the area."

"But you didn't need to see my wife for your kind of business - or did you? We have bureaucrats in offices dealing with such requests."

"We are…old acquaintances," Folla said, a smile curving her lips. Isard had been quite the collector back when the Empire was at its height and it had definitely paid to be on her good side. "I thought she might do me a couple of favours."

"Like?" Westol murmured silkily.

"There are a couple of sites in this region of space that I want to research that have Jedi connections." Folla made herself relax in her chair. If Westol thought that he could intimidate her, he could think again. "It was my remit when the Emperor was still alive and it hasn't changed. I need permission to access them."

"Jedi…" He leant back in the repulsor chair. "Jedi…or Sith? Your loyalty to Emperor Palpatine, Doctor Rule – is it as strong as it was?"

"My loyalties have always been to myself and my career," Folla said smoothly.

Ysanne began to laugh softly. It was not pleasant. "I often wondered about you, Folla."

"In what way?"

"A woman making a successful career in what was, and still is, a man's world on Coruscant. You were the only female academic to head a department."

"I could say the same for you, Ysanne," Folla declared firmly. "But I never slept my way to power. My academic credentials are genuine."

"Ouch!" Isard chuckled mockingly. "I wasn't doing much in the way of sleeping." Her mismatched eyes gleamed.

Westol pulled out a data pad and punched in some codes, a sly look on his face as if he was about to enjoy playing with a cornered rodent. "I have data here that indicates you often played a different role for the Emperor – not just that of the favoured academic talent nurtured from an Imperial education."

"Really. What would that have been?" Folla showed no reaction whatsoever but inside she wondered exactly what information he held. No one should have known this."

The Moff's smile widened. "That you were one of a select group of agents answering only to the Emperor himself."

"Group!" Isard said sharply. "There were more of them?"

Westol shrugged and turned his head to stare at his wife. "I believe so. I have reliable information on the subject. I know you dealt, or rather, failed to deal with one of them when she became problematic – a woman by the name of Mara Jade. She disappeared from a locked cell right under your nose, Ysanne, and hasn't been heard of since. Well… not until a couple of months ago…"

"The red-head?" Isard's mouth dropped open in shock. "She's alive? You know where she is?"

"Rather careless of you to lose such an important resource, Ysanne," Westol drawled. "She could have worked for us instead of vanishing into thin air."

"She refused to talk," Isard muttered petulantly. "She may even have been a threat to Imperial security and stability. She knew secrets that someone in her position had no right to know. I arrested her and held her for questioning and she vanished into thin air. She had to have had inside aid."

"Security footage saw no evidence of that," Westol murmured.

"Mara Jade," mused Folla. The name was certainly familiar. "Another agent of the Empire?"

"Of the Emperor supposedly but it was never proved," Isard said sulkily. "Her cover was less exalted than yours. She posed as one of the court dancers and was quite accomplished at it too."

"I don't remember her," Folla murmured thoughtfully.

"I'm surprised that you don't. She had very distinctive red-gold hair and green eyes that she played up in a cheap decorative fashion. Not the best kind of operative if she's noticeable. She had an insufferable air of smug superiority about her. I certainly suspected her as a fake - possibly with anti-imperial ties."

Folla forced herself to relax. "I'm an archaeologist. I did not hang around the Imperial court unless it was for a funding dinner for the university. Why would I remember a mere court dancer?"

"Then her cover was effective," Westol mused thoughtfully. "Like you, Doctor Rule, Mara Jade was one of the Emperor's Hands – an agent recruited, trained and employed by Palpatine to carry out his most secret missions. Vader was too public a figure for what Palpatine wanted. Mara Jade was no fake, Ysanne."

"I'm an archaeologist," Folla said again. "I'm not some secret agent." The denial was automatic, her mind busy with possible excuses. "I'm currently investigating lost Jedi sites for the government of the New Republic and the University of Coruscant." This was not an ideal situation; her bargaining power was being compromised. She'd been prepared to divulge some information but it seemed the moff was way ahead of her.

"That's not what my information says," Westol said. "I am the governing moff in this sector and as such am privy to much of the top- secret information once held by the Emperor and those in the highest echelons of the Empire. Oh, your academic credentials are impressive and you may indeed be the galaxy's expert on the Jedi but your name is on this list. That marks you as an Imperial agent."

Isard's hands balled into fists, jealousy glittering in her eyes and showing in the tightness of her red-painted mouth. Mara Jade and her failure to cooperate had long rankled. She had not understood why Jade continued to enjoy the Emperor's favour for as long as she had. "That's why you succeeded the old professor, Folla,," she said accusingly. "You were able to pick up artefacts and treasures that the Emperor desired without your interest being noted as unusual and do little assassin type jobs for him on the side. Perhaps you even helped the old professor on his way."

Folla wondered for the first time if her undercover work might suddenly get easier if she confessed the truth. "I never knew any of the other agents and that is the truth, although I was one of the few to know that others existed," she confessed, her voice low and controlled. "It was easier that way. We reported only to the Emperor and his secrets were not ours to tell and no, I did not kill the old professor. He managed to do that much by himself."

"So you did work alone," the moff said. Westol passed Folla the data pad and her eyes widened at the words written there. It was a complete dossier on herself including the little known fact that she had some Force ability. Westol's lip curled sardonically. "I've suspected for some time that his majesty liked to surround himself with weak Force adepts."

Folla's dark eyes narrowed at the word `weak'. It was an insult and intended to be taken as such. "I did work alone, although I was never so naïve as to think that I might be his only `hand'. My Master said that I was special, picked for my particular gifts to serve him. I studied with the best tutors from the most prestigious universities in the galaxy until I was ready. I continue to serve him, even though he has gone."

"Are any of these other names familiar?" Westol enquired casually. "Cronal, Maarek Stele, Kogo Vess, Sheyvan? I could go on."

Folla shook her head. "No. Perhaps if I saw images…"

"The only beings with any Force strength would have been Lord Vader and members of the dark side elite," Westol stated. "All information points to them being one with the Force. The Emperor's Hands were trained to carry out jobs of a special nature. Yours was to search for and collect artefacts belonging to the Jedi or the Sith. Because of your ability you were able to identify what was real from the fake."

"I continue to do that. There are those in the New Republic that also want access to the legacy of the Jedi and I aim to stop them. The Jedi could ruin any plans of the Empire for taking back what is rightfully theirs."

"Why are you here now?" Westol asked with a sideways look at Isard.

"I told you already. I want access to the reputed Jedi sites on Dantooine and Muunilist. For that I need permission. You can grant me access."

"No, there's more than that," Isard deduced. "You didn't have to come all this way and arrange to see me in person. As my husband said, you could have filed the appropriate form with the bureaucrats or sent someone else in your place. Dantooine and Muunilist were picked clean years ago."

"Despite what you think, I still want to access those sites." Folla took a deep breath. "I want to pledge my allegiance to the Imperial Remnant once more. I want to aid them in any way I can on Coruscant so that the Empire can rise and become again the glorious power that it once was." She rose to her feet and began to pace back and forth in front of a surprised Westol and Isard. "The Jedi must not rise again," she declared passionately. "Skywalker must be stopped."

"Skywalker!" Isard exclaimed. "I haven't heard that name for a long time. The pilot who destroyed the first Death Star, the New Republic's Jedi – that Skywalker?" She looked at her husband. "Pieter?"

Westol shook his head. "My sources haven't heard anything about him for a long time either. He disappeared after the Bakuran incident – led the battle group that gave aid. Bakura seceded from the Empire and joined with the New Republic. That was just over three years ago and nothing's been heard of him since."

Folla clenched her fists. "There are rumours that he's dead but I don't believe that for one moment. Someone stole a box of artefacts from a library on Praesitlyn and I think it was Skywalker. He's out there biding his time and will return the galaxy to chaos. I am willing to play my part in stopping him."

Isard began to laugh again. "Times have moved on, Doctor Rule," she said with a sneer. "I would love to help you but I cannot. We cannot act against rumours. Have you actual proof of Skywalker's guilt in this theft? Did anyone see him?"

"No."

Westol's craggy face stiffened, his voice stern. "The Imperial Remnant is in no position to take up any sort of fight with the New Republic. In fact, there are moves afoot to have another definite treaty in place by next yearly rotation. Agricultural produce, I believe. I'm not giving away state secrets by telling you this. Preliminary talks have already been held."

"No!" Folla couldn't believe it.

"We cannot and will not cause more conflict. Even Ysanne can see it. She might not admit it but she's knows the state of things." He cast a dark look at the woman by his side. "Safeguarding our current territory and feeding the masses are our most important tasks right now. Our people have no stomach for another war."

"They must," Folla spat.

"No." Isard spoke, her voice cold. "Much as it galls me to say it, Pieter's right. We do not have the resources to take on the New Republic and I suspect they are in exactly the same condition."

"The Jedi are dangerous."

"Perhaps but they are not exactly a threat right now, are they? How many have you found in your travels as you search for relics? They once numbered tens of thousands – at my last count I had heard of precisely…one. Luke Skywalker. He cannot do much on his own."

"I think you are wrong about that. They will be a threat. I can promise you that."

Westol gave a short bark of laughter. "You sound so certain, Doctor. But I remember a time when the Jedi were regarded as the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy. Perhaps they could be so again for us all."

Isard shook her head. "I'm not sure that I would go as far as trusting a Jedi, Pieter."

"Why not?"

"I don't even trust you." Isard smirked nastily at her husband.

Folla couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had been so sure that they would have helped her. Isard always had her own agenda and would probably have to get past the moff at some point. What was clear was that Isard was not yet ready to act. She hoped Westol was prepared to defend himself when the time came.

Westol flicked a switch on the desk. "Could we have an escort to return our guest to her ship?"

"Certainly Sir," answered the disembodied voice politely.

Westol stood up. "You may visit the sites after you submit the proper application forms but I will not have you admitted to this garrison again."

"I'm sorry, Folla," Isard said but she didn't look or sound at all sorry. "You will have to take on the Jedi by yourself."

"I will and one day you will regret not helping me," Folla said bitterly, realising she had made a mistake coming to these people. Defeat at the hands of the New Republic had turned them into narrow- minded cowards. "I could have been useful."

"Perhaps but I doubt it." Isard didn't say that they already now knew all that they needed to. A light flickered on Isard's desk and the door slid silently open. The same black-clad soldier stood waiting to escort her from their presence.

The door shut leaving the moff and his wife together.

"You almost considered it, didn't you?" Westol glanced at Isard, a shrewd glint in his grey eyes.

Isard smiled wolfishly. "Almost but the time isn't right."

"The time will never be right," he said. "I would suggest that you inform me of any more such visits from ex-servants of Emperor Palpatine."

"Now why should I do that?" she asked archly. "You appear to find out about them without me telling you."

"I mean it, Ysanne."

"I know you do but I only married you. I never said that I would obey you. Folla's harmless. Mara Jade, I'm not so sure about."

Westol laughed. "Do you want to know what happened to her? You must be curious after Jade slipped through your grasping little hands."

Isard grimaced but gave in with a sigh. "Tell me."

Westol smiled. "She currently works for a galactic trader by the name of Talon Karrde."

"The smuggler?"

"Yes, that's him."

"So she's not gone all `New Republic' on us like Doctor Rule."

"No. Talon Karrde prefers to stay neutral."

"Should we?"

"We'll leave her where she is...for now but you're wrong about Doctor Rule. She hasn't yet joined the New Republic...she wants the Empire back."

"No," Ysanne said thoughtfully. "She wants the Emperor."

"I think we should go out to dinner tonight – celebrate our anniversary."

"If you are paying," Isard murmured. "I didn't expect to stay married to you for as long as a whole month."

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