Title: Star Wars Genesis: Revolt (part 2)
Author: Jennifer R Embree
Author E-Mail: webmaster@swgenesis.zzn.com
Catagory: Series
Keywords: luke, mara, cyan, genesis, chiss
Spoilers: everything except for the prequels and NJO
Rating: R

Summery: Bereaved of Cyan's bond, betrayed by a sister he 
trusted, Luke Skywalker finds himself a drift. With his 
sanity waning, he is dragged down into a new world with the 
Maraheb Assassins. Learning their ways he eventually finds 
himself on his home world of Tatooine where a revolt is 
taking place. Seeing his chance to get revenge on his sister, 
Leia Organa Solo, Luke takes up their cause and leads them to 
victory after victory. As he descends further and further 
into madness, the only thing keeping him sliding over is the 
love of his wife Mara Jade-Skywalker, and a distant voice. 

Disclaimer: This story was written without the concent of 
Lucasfilm, and this author is in no way affiliated with 
Lucasfilm or any of its subsiterary companies. Fanfix.com is 
not responsible for the content within. Cyan is copyrighted 
by Jennifer Embree and may not be used without her concent. 

Author's Note: This story would not have been as good if not 
for the faithful bata readings by my girl Ivy and all of the 
wonderful feedback from its readers. If you want to learn 
more about Genesis the series (the few parts that aren't here 
yet, anyway) and all the extras, head on over to my website 
at http://www.hyperjump.net/cyan/genesis.  This series should 
be read in this order or it won't make much sense: Beginning's 
End, Revolt, Devouring the Snake's Tail, and Journey to the 
Edge of Light.

Revolt

Chapter I

The shuttle reverted back to real space just in time for its hyperdrive to falter and die. The shields flickered and stayed on, but with just enough power to sustain one direct turbolaser blast. The shuttle’s hull was smeared with black scorch marks from heavy fire; its sublight engines, fortunately, were in the best condition of the whole ship. They had come out of hyperspace just outside of the star system, it’s yellow star sparkling and twinkling in the distance. It would take them hours to reach the system’s only habitable planet, Coruscant, but after the harrowing journey they had just been through, the shuttle’s captain didn’t mind one bit.

“Don’t you two worry,” the former first officer of the dead Cragon battle ship, the Threnody, said. “I’ll get you to your new home.” At least that’s what I hope, Harsa thought uneasily. He glanced away from the display to look at his daughter Wisp staring out at the new sight with utter joy and the pale boy who looked at things with a strange detachment as if he were only watching a holovid. He turned his eyes—one pale blue, the other a vibrant green—to Harsa and seemed to say, We’re not there yet.

Harsa turned back to his work, setting a course to the world that was the centre of the New Republic. The world where he was bringing the son of one of the Republic’s most celebrated heroes. The world where he would give all the secrets of the Force to the Republic’s military. The world where he would betray his people.

Harsa sighed and initiated their course, sitting back in his chair to wait. The hyperdrive had been damaged when Harsa escaped from a losing battle when Quarrcta di Donna’s three battleships, Cragon’s Pride, di Donna’s Legacy, and Jedis’ Requiem finally found the Threnody. They methodically took out her entire set of formable defenses until there was nothing left for them to throw at their enemies but their bitter defeat. The Admiral in charge of the Threnody, a human with a talent for torture named Tarckok, knowing that if he were captured he would suffer unbelievable torment of his own, had taken Harsa to the secret levels where the two children were kept. The human boy was the son of Luke Skywalker, their former prisoner, and Quarrcta wanted him badly. Tarckok had thought to use him as a hostage to escape certain death. But Harsa had previously betrayed Tarckok, and the only reason he still served the human was because he had taken Wisp and promised to kill her if Harsa didn’t keep working for him. When Tarckok turned his back to him, Harsa took the chance and killed the Admiral, taking the two children and escaping in Tarckok’s own personal shuttle. They made it to hyperspace, but not before taking heavy damage from Quarrcta’s battleships.

That was all in the past now, and Harsa had more pressing matters to attend to. Like getting the stolen research of the Force back to the Jedi so they could take proper preventative measures. There was nothing he could do at the moment to speed things up so Harsa un-strapped and headed aft to play with the children. He was halted mid-stride when an alarm warned that a ship had just exited hyperspace nearby. Harsa directed the portside sensors towards the source of the disturbance and sank into his chair again with shock. Jedis’ Requiem had somehow managed to follow them here. Quarrcta was so desperate to keep the Jedi baby and the research out of New Republic hands that he was willing to risk one of his favorite battleships by sending it to the very centre of their enemy’s realm. Harsa knew he could not outrun the battleship, but he could try and make the incident as loud and as obvious to Coruscant’s sensors as he could. Perhaps they would see the battle and send someone out to investigate. It was a slim chance, but it was Harsa’s only option besides suicide.

Swinging the shuttle into evasive maneuvers, Harsa shunted full power to the rear deflectors. He heard a click behind him but ignored it; unless something else broke it did not concern him. He broke hard to port, then down, then to port again, hoping to confuse Requiem’s gunners. Then an ion cannon blast skimming by the view port proved him wrong. He was about to slew the shuttle to starboard when a little hand reached up and made them pull up. Harsa shoved Ben out of the way and looked back at the screen just in time to see that if they had gone in the direction he had wanted too, they would have flown right into an ion blast. Harsa whistled in surprise—he hadn’t realized that Jedi children developed their skills at such a young age. Suddenly Ben reached up and shoved the lever again, swinging the ship out of the way of another blast. Realizing Ben would be there whether Harsa wanted him to or not, he put the boy on his lap and concentrated on strengthening their shields and seeing what he could do about the hyperdrive.

Suddenly the com unit beeped with an incoming message. After hesitating for a second, Harsa slapped the switch. The deep blue face of Requiem’s com officer appeared. He gave Harsa the calm expression of someone doing a hard job that had been done one too many times. “Commander Harsa, you are ordered by his lordship, Quarrcta di Donna, to allow your shuttle to be boarded so that you may be returned to your rightful place as an officer of honor in the Cragon Navy. He sends his further assurances that you will not be penalized for succumbing to the blackmail forced upon you by the disgraced Admiral Tarckok. He fully understands that you were only doing what any other loyal Chiss would do to protect your family.” There was a pause then the com officer added, “He also sends his gratitude for saving the research and the Skywalker child from the Threnody. Your foresight saved them from being destroyed along with all the rest of the unfortunate crew of that battleship.”

Harsa’s brow furrowed. Quarrcta had forgiven him? But he had betrayed his people. He had tried to take the child and the research to the New Republic. He would have ruined any chance of the Cragon Dynasty catching the Republic and the Empire by surprise. It was a trick, of course. Quarrcta just wanted to get the Jedi baby and research with as little fuss as possible.

Harsa was reaching for the switch to turn the com off when suddenly Ben some how shut down the shields! Harsa smacked Ben’s hand away from the controls just before the shuttle came to a shuttering stop, caught in Requiem’s tractor beam. Harsa was thrown forward, inadvertently crushing Ben between him and the control panel. He sat back and turned the boy around to make sure he wasn’t injured. Seeing he was fine, Harsa’s gaze was caught by Ben’s sad and resigned one. Harsa looked out the view port and saw the slowly expanding view of the Requiem irrevocably drawing them closer and closer to her dark belly.

“Do you even realize what you’ve done? They’ll kill me, and make your life a living hell!” Harsa said, giving Ben a useless shake. Ben shook his head and looked up at Harsa with brilliant eyes, and then, amazingly enough, he spoke!

“Da come!”

Harsa blinked in surprise. “What did you say?”

“Da come! Da come!”

“Da?” Harsa asked. “What the hell is a ‘da’?” Ben’s small pale brow furrowed. Then his eyes lit up again and he reached into his baggy shirt and pulled something out. Harsa took it from him and gave the child a puzzled look. “How in the All did you get your father’s lightsaber? Wait—of course! ‘Da’ as in ‘dada’. I should have known. You mean he’ll come for us? He’s alright?” Ben seemed to think about it for a second. Then he nodded emphatically. “How can you tell?” Ben gave him a sour glare and took the lightsaber back. “I guess that means they won’t kill me outright. And that would make this our best choice . . . Alright, you win.”

Harsa turned back to the com and opened the channel after he had put the human child on the floor. He flicked the switch and said, “Tell Quarrcta I except his gratitude and give my renewed allegiance to him and the Dynasty.”

———————————

“He’s alive, Han! I know it,” Mara Jade-Skywalker said emphatically.

Han Solo stopped walking to the kitchen of his home in the Imperial Palace of Coruscant to take his sister-in-law by the shoulders. He looked her in her eyes and stated firmly, “We’d all like to believe that, Mara, but it’s not true. You’re just going to have to accept the fact that Luke is dead and no amount of self-delusion is going to bring him back to life.” Han sighed and ran his hand through his graying brown hair. He wore his usual vest but he refused to put his Correllien blood stripes on his pants since the death of his best friend Luke Skywalker. Everyone was in mourning, and shock, from the traumatic way he had died. Han had always known, in a way, that Luke would never die of natural causes, but he had never in his wildest nightmares suspected that the Jedi Master would lose his life through an act of insanity. The horror of the event would live with him through the rest of his days. The absolute fury in his brother as he finally gave in was something he never wanted to see, nor ever again in anyone. The destruction that unleashed fury had wreaked, not just in Luke’s death but in tearing apart a good chunk of Coruscant’s richer district, was still being cleaned up. Not even the combined power of all the Jedi on Coruscant could stop him, there just wasn’t anything anyone could have done differently to make things end another way.

Or so everyone else believed. Though no one blamed her, Mara put the whole incident on her back. Even now she looked far different than her usual neat appearance. Her red-gold hair tumbled about her face, straying from the lose ponytail she had attempted to put it in. It fell in front of her jade flecked eyes, failing to succumb to her attempts to brush it out of the way. She was dressed in the kind of no-nonsense body suit she favored, but the material was rumpled and her face lined with worry and lack of sleep.

“It’s not self-delusion!” Mara insisted, shaking Han’s hands off her shoulders. “I can feel it. If Luke were dead, the bond between him and I would have been broken, just like with Cyan, right?”

Han sighed. “Yeah, I guess so…”

“Well I can still feel the bond through the Force. He can’t be dead,” Mara said, as sure of her words as she was that she was still alive. Han looked her in the face, saw her conviction…and gave up.

“Alright, you win. He’s alive,” Han said warily, knowing that look and knowing that even if she was wrong she was going ahead anyway. “Then where is he?”

Mara grinned and rubbed her hands together eagerly. “I don’t know exactly where he is, but I think he’s still on Coruscant. It’s obvious he’s wounded, so he’s probably still near the hangar.” Mara gave Han her best pleading expression. “I need someone who knows the area. It’s either you, or Lando, and I like you more.”

“Mara! You don’t even have to ask,” Han said, surprised. “Just let me eat my breakfast and we’ll get right to work. But I think we should get some others to help. He more than likely headed down, and I’d rather have a few people with me when I’m in the lower levels.”

“No argument there. Don’t worry about getting others, there’s plenty of people who want to help out,” Mara told him.

———————————

“So what exactly are we looking for?” Corran Horn shouted from atop the pile of rubble. It had taken some cajoling, but Mara had somehow managed to convince the company that owned the hanger to leave off the repair work until they finished a final search. Han had come of course, along with the rest of the Jedi on Coruscant; Kyp Durren, Cilghal, Dorsk 82, and others. Corran Horn, though in actuality a fully trained Jedi Knight, was an X-Wing jockey in Rogue Squadron. He had been away with the slowly forming task force that was to chase after the Cragon battleship, the Threnody, when Luke finally lost his mind. They were to rescue Ben Skywalker, since his continued capture matched with Luke and Mara’s kidnapping by them was seen as an apparent act of war. All capital ships were called back to Coruscant after the “Battle of Wills” since the whole incident had created a massive uproar among most of those worlds that had a Jedi mediator on them. Though most acted with outright shock, some had deported all Jedi inhabiting them immediately, fearing this would become a trend. Corran was due to leave in two weeks as part of an escort to protect Leia when she went to several worlds to negotiate readmitting the Jedi. Then they would be heading for Tatooine where rebellion had broken out only two days earlier over water rations. Until then all Corran had was mission simulations and a lot of free time.

“A hole, Corran,” Mara said warily. “If Luke is still alive, he couldn’t be here since this place has been scanned up the Ying Yang for life signs. Since I’m pretty positive he was under here at some point, he had to have found some way out. He didn’t just teleport to some place.”

Corran shrugged and started wandering down the hill, picking through the rubble. “Alright. Just thought it would be more productive if we knew what to look for. But why are we bothering with this? If we all agree he went down, then why are we looking here?”

“Because when they were still searching the place there was a lot of supports and tunnels he could have taken to the lower levels, most of which didn’t come out at the same place. We could search down there forever and never find him,” Han said. “How long have you been living here, anyway?”

“Ha, ha,” Corran growled, moving to an overhang.

Ejila Starbust called up from where she knelt near the base of the pile. “Hey! Wouldn’t someone notice if Luke left here? And the hole too?”

“Not really,” Cilghal said. “They were just looking for life signs, they wouldn’t have noticed a hole since the falling rubble could have made it naturally. Besides, the place was all but deserted at night.”

“I suppose, but if that’s true, then how are we supposed to spot the hole?” Ejila asked. Cilghal thought about it for a second then shrugged.

“How ‘bout you use the Force?” Han suggested, lifting a rock. “You could just sense that he’d been there, right? His residual presence or something like that?”

Mara lifted an elegantly shaped eyebrow. “Yeah, that’s about all we can do if there’s no other signs. Just call someone over if you find a hole, Han.”

They picked through mound after mound of ferocrete for the better part of two hours, finding several holes that no one thought were it. Then, just as even Mara was beginning to wonder at the continued usefulness of this exercise, Han found Luke’s way out.

“Here’s one! And, uh, I’m pretty sure this might be it,” he added as Kyp jumped down to his level.

“How do you know?” Kyp asked then stopped when he saw what Han had noticed earlier.

“There’s blood all around it,” Han said needlessly. “And it looks pretty much like it’s human.” They all gathered around; they were positive they knew who had come out of it. Blood smeared handprints rimmed the entrance, with footprints and indistinguishable marks as well. Conveniently enough it led to one to the passageways still in place. “I guess we start looking there.”

U n a n s w e r e d

Q u e s t i o n s

Chapter II

Luke stumbled down the offshoot of the dark and musty passageway he had been slowly inching along since well before sunrise. He tripped for the last time and fell hard on his knees, clutching his skull even harder then he had before. He gasped deeply, trying to clear the deep, pain laced fog that threatened to overwhelm him as it had at the hanger. Every part of his mind screamed in agony. He wanted to use the Force to heal himself but every time he tried to reach out, the pain escalated to new heights. He sobbed and pulled his body upright against the wall. He had to keep going, escape the pain and anguish that refused to abate. He started to inch his way forward again, using the wall to support his failing body. Eventually he found his way blocked by an increasingly recurrent specter.

Cyan sat there, once again the innocent baby with the glittering crystalline eyes. His bronze scales sparkled dully as they slid over his small, lithe body. His ebony horns were just barely grown; his ridge lay flat against his neck. He crooned, the sound an embodiment of his grieving expression.

“Stop it. Stop it. Go away. You’re not here, you’re gone. Gone . . .” Luke moaned and closed his eyes against the sight. When he opened them again the dragon was no longer there. He sighed in relief and started walking again. He didn’t know where he was going, nor did he care anymore. He just knew he had to get away. As far away as his exhausted body would carry him. He couldn’t see very well, the light was dim and he couldn’t focus his attention on anything. He stumbled again and again until finally when he looked up, all he saw was a dead-end. A dead-end . . .

He let his head sag back to the soiled floor, curling into a fetal position. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping death would come and end this pain, but then opened them again, on impulse. What he saw made him close them again and curl into a tighter ball.

“You have to go back, Luke,” Cyan’s soothing voice cooed. “You can’t run forever. Please go back. This will end all the sooner if you do. Please, please listen to me!” Luke thought he felt the brush of Cyan’s palm on his damp cheek, soft as a warm memory.

A crash and someone crying out disrupted the moment. Luke opened his eyes and saw a Bothan dressed in clothes too expensive to be owned by a resident of these lower levels. He crashed into a waist disposal unit and fell to the ground, whimpering and pleading for his existence. Luke pulled himself to his feet again, unnoticed in the dark corner. The Jedi was so intrigued by the Bothan’s appearance he didn’t even realize Cyan had disappeared again.

Suddenly the Bothan let out a shriek of fear when something in the passageway caught his attention. A creature entered dressed in clothes that were baggy and black, so much so that they completely concealed its sex and species. Luke crept forward, knowing even without the Force that the creature in black would refuse the Bothan’s pleas for his life. Luke felt his natural tendency to help kick in when he realized he was defenseless. Bereft of the Force or a weapon, he would be easy pray.

So what? What do I care if I live or die. The same fate waits for me on both sides. He saw a paracrete pole sticking out of a pile of knocked over refuse. He moved slowly towards it.

The assassin moved across the debris littered floor like a wraith, smooth and soundless. It pulled a stylized dagger from some hidden location and held it in an accustomed, balanced grip. It brought its hand back as if to slice the blade through the cowering Bothan’s throat.

Luke darted forward, surprising himself with the level of agility he still seemed to possess. He grabbed the pole and swung it at the stunned assassin. Even caught off guard, the creature moved fast. It ducked out of the way then grabbed the poll as it swung past, yanking hard. Luke went crashing to ground again. He kicked out and caught the assassin in the leg. The creature stumbled, but stayed up; the distraction was just enough time for Luke to force his aching body to its feet. The assassin took a swipe with the blade, slicing through Luke’s shirtsleeve and meeting with flesh. Luke gasped in pain and used the Force to push the assassin away from him. The creature slammed into the wall, at the same time Luke clutched his head, the pain cause by that simple maneuver threatening to overwhelm him.

“Run!” he gasped at the stunned Bothan. He needn’t have said it for the Bothan had already started running for his life. Luke’s vision began to dim, and he couldn’t focus enough to stay standing, the coordination that required seemed to have left him. The floor rose up to meet him halfway, and then he blacked out, the last thing he remembered was lying on his back with the assassin looking down on him from above.

“Maybe he didn’t go this way. Maybe it was one of the other passages,” Ejila suggested.

“No,” Mara said with a firm shake of her head. “He came this way, I’m sure of it.” They had stopped for what seemed to be the millionth time at a cross section of tunnels that spidered through the level. As before Mara would pace back and forth, looking at each passageway, until she found one that felt “right”. This now was taking a longer and longer amount of time the deeper they went.

On top of that Corran was getting more and more irritable the deeper they went too. He had been a member of CorSec, a security force on Correlia but had been forced to leave. He knew how to use the Force to track someone down but as of yet they hadn’t found a single physical clue that Luke had gone this way and that rankled him. Unfortunately as stubborn as he was, Mara was far stubborner. So they kept on going, down, down into the vary bowels of Coruscant.

“Do you have any idea how close he is?” Corran asked. “How off the pace are we?”

A small crease appeared between her brows as Mara thought about it for a moment. “He’s…he’s not far.”

“Oh, that helps,” Corran muttered.

“You know, you didn’t have to come if you didn’t want to,” Han growled, getting fed up. “And you can go back anytime you want.”

Corran shrugged. “I want to help. But we have no evidence beyond the Force, and even though Wedge will go for that, not everyone over my head will. I got sims in two hours and it’s gonna take me an hour just to get back to the base.”

“Then I’ll yell at anyone who tries to get you in trouble for it,” Mara told him. “You can’t get in trouble for doing a favor for a Jedi Master.”

“That’s what I’m hoping.”

“Alright, stop your complaining then. I think he went this way,” Mara pointed in a direction and they started down it. They walked. And they walked. And then they walked some more. They chatted, made some suggestions, but nothing happened. They met very few people; most creatures that lived on these levels feared strangers. On their way they past a terrified Bothan. He babbled something about a monster coming after him and a strange man who came out of no where to help him. The group exchanged glances and the Bothan snarled and took off. They wandered by an offshoot of the main passageway, one of many they had past throughout the search, when Mara suddenly stopped. She backed up and looked down it, thinking to herself.

“What is it?” Cilghal asked. “Did Luke go down there?”

“He couldn’t have,” Corran said, “It’s a dead end.”

Mara shook her head. “No, no he was here. For a little while. But something…something happened.”

“Look,” Han said, reaching down to pick up a paracrete pole. There were bloody handprints all over the base.

“There was a fight here,” Corran said, moving in and inspecting the area. “There’s stuff knocked over, some blood on the wall and on the ground right here. And look, some fresh footprints in the—uh, whatever that stuff is on the floor right there.”

“Looks like you got your hard evidence, kid,” Han commented. “Well, obviously Luke ain’t in as bad condition as we all thought. He must have survived the fight.”

Jenab Rohib, a quiet student who made few comments but those he did make were usually good, spoke up. “But wouldn’t his body just disappear if he was killed? Like all the other Masters?”

“His clothes don’t disappear. I don’t see them anywhere,” Ejila put in.

“She’s right. And he’s not dead. I’d notice,” Mara commented. Then her face fell. “He’s not here, he gone. We won’t find him down here anymore. We lost our chance.”

“Where did he go?” Dorsk 82 asked.

“I don’t know.”

——————————————

“Yes of course I understand your concerns but this is an isolated incident. Master Skywalker’s . . . explosion as you call it was a result of a combination of problems he was involved in. He has been in stress inducing situations all throughout his life and never needed counseling before. This was as much a surprise to his close friends and family as it was for anyone.”

“Was that supposed to reassure me, President?” The high pitched, scratchy voice of Wallatalla’s Viceroy asked. “Because all it said to me is you have no warning and no way to predict when this will happen!”

Chief of State Leia Organa Solo sighed in exasperation. She had spent the better part of two days soothing over agitated representatives from planets spread throughout the New Republic and even a few in the Empire. She had wanted to get out of it, but some worlds just would not be pacified without the President’s personal assurance. Of course no one thought about what she was going through. Wasn’t she under enough stress? Her brother just died a horrible death; she should be in morning not in negotiations. But no, they had to hear it from her, the President of the New Republic, who also happened to be a Jedi as well.

She decided to try another tactic. “Viceroy, if a senator were to suddenly have a psychotic breakdown, would you suddenly start worrying that all the other senators would start having psychotic breakdowns?”

“Well, no. Of course I wouldn’t. But I don’t see—”

“Then why should it make any difference here?” Leia demanded. “Master Skywalker’s break down was caused by events that would have destroyed an average person, but since they are unordinary in occurrence and random in order I do not think we have to worry about it happening to all the Jedi.”

The Viceroy thought about it for a second then growled in grudging acceptance. “When you put it that way it makes me sound stupid. I suppose that’s the best reassurance I’ll be getting. Fine, but if anything happens, I’m holding you responsible.” He stood and Leia rose with him, extending her hand. He looked at it, curled his lip, and swiftly exited Leia’s office. She sank down in her self-conforming chair again, rubbing her temples.

“One more down, who knows how many to go,” she commented, a slight tremor slipping into her voice.

“Fifty seven,” C-3PO, her golden protocol droid informed her from behind the chair. “Or fifty six if two headed persons only count as one.”

Leia laughed lightly, resisting the urge to ask Threepio which species he was referring to since she knew she would get a rather large list of two headed entities along with their cultural differences and how they divided personalities. She sat back in her chair and rubbed her eyes wearily, picking up a data card containing the profile on the next representative she would be seeing.

“Are you feeling alright, Mistress Leia?” Threepio asked.

“Yes,” Leia smiled forcibly again and gave a short laugh, “yes, I’m fine. I’m just tired, that’s all. I-I haven’t been getting enough sleep since…” Her voice trailed off and she closed her eyes and leaned her head back, taking a deep, calming breath. Not getting enough sleep wasn’t quite correct. More like she couldn’t sleep for the nightmares that plagued her. “Who’s next, Threepio?”

“Emissary Gi Si of Vecoom VIII,” Threepio said after a moment’s pause to consult his memory banks. “His world is still functioning under the dual Jedi guardian probation period since they are still recovering from a civil war with their fourth moon. Though, at the moment I do believe the two Jedi assigned there have been . . . deported.”

“It’s Gi Si? Great, he probably had a fit large enough to knock his dorsal fin off. Ugh, you know what, Threepio? I’m too tired to put up with his bull right now. I’m taking a break,” Leia said, rising and striding from the room.

Threepio seemed quite surprised at her abrupt departure and called just before the door to her office slid closed behind her, “Is that what I should tell the Emissary?”

Leia walked swiftly down the hall, ignoring the sideways glances her swift stride and angry expression attracted. She reached a deserted hallway and headed for a beverage dispenser. She pressed her thumb onto the scanner and grabbed the cylindrical container that popped out. Instead of drinking it, she placed the cool metal against her forehead and leaned against the wall.

The dreams…before Luke died, it was just a nagging feeling of dread. Since then, since that horrible, horrible day, her nights were disrupted with obscure nightmares that refused to reveal their intent except for two nonsensical images. A lone, vaguely familiar figure stumbling through an arctic tundra, and a single flash of sapphire scales and a black empty eye staring out at her with smoldering anger.

“Visions often appear masked in dreams, usually interpreted as nightmares,” Luke once said to her in one of her brief lessons on the Force. Leia shuddered, opening the container and taking a long swallow. Why was she the one who had to meet with all these people? She had other things to do with her time, like grieve, like meditate to try and understand what was happening. How had things gone wrong, anyway? It wasn’t her fault.

“Of course not,” she said out loud, pacing in front of the dispenser now. “I though of everything. It should have worked! I consulted everyone I could think of without rising suspicion—I knew Luke would never agree to it. Anyone else I could have talked too would have told him.” Realizing that someone could walk around the corner at any moment, she stopped talking and sat on a cushioned bench, resting her chin in her hands and thinking. Perhaps something had gone wrong with the carbon freeze. Perhaps it hadn’t happened fast enough and Cyan was able to do something to Luke before he was frozen. Well, it was a moot point now. Cyan was gone from their lives and Luke was gone forever. Had he really hated her so much that he couldn’t come back to say good-by? Surely once he was on the other side he would have to see the truth!

Unless she was wrong all along.

But no, she was sure of her decision. More to the point there was no going back on it now, anyway. She sighed in frustration and took another swig out of the container. It hadn’t helped her day when Han suddenly called and told her he couldn’t come to lunch since he was helping Mara with something. Mara! Leia grunted. She’d have had Mara arrested if she hadn’t helped save her life. A maintenance droid rolled down the hall, hooting and beeping contentedly to itself. Leia stood and tossed her now empty container into its trash disposal unit and went back to her office.

She had fifty-seven more people to sooth over, though only fifty-six if the two headed person was agreeable.

Chapter III

“So what the hell do we do with him?”

“You should have just left him in the alley.”

“Hey, I thought we were supposed to watch out for potential members?”

“Not Jedi, you doorknob! They don’t agree with killing!”

“I didn’t recognize him, ok? The light was dim and he came out of no where. All I knew at the time was he put up a pretty good fight even though he was injured.”

“Remhada’s gonna have your ass stuffed and mounted on her office wall with all the others that displeased her, Pendad. And I’m not gonna get pulled down with you.”

“Oh, well thanks for the support, Seefi.”

“We could always just kill him.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you did, unless you got a really good pain killer on you,” Luke moaned, opening his eyes and looking at the two figures arguing above him. The one on his left, Pendad, had his hood pulled back to reveal a pale, human face. With startling blue eyes, his features looked like they had seen too much blood at too young an age. Luke narrowed his eyes for a second, fairly certain he was the one he had fought in the passageway. Then he looked at the other. Seefi was a slim woman, a Vooak, her reptilian face covered in red scales. Her cold green eyes narrowed; the yellow slits that proved to be her pupils dilated. Her sinewy tail curled and twisted about her, ending in a single wrap around her arm, tapping irritably.

“Great, now he knows what we look like. Which means we have to kill him,” Seefi snarled, her forked tongue darting out angrily. “Of all the wrong people in the galaxy you could drag in here, you bring the one I’m least inclined to kill for free!”

Luke let his head fall into his hands and groaned. “Well, now that I feel really special, could you get on with it? I’ll do it if you’re squeamish, just give me a weapon.”

“I’m not squeamish, darling, I just don’t like killing good people. I try and have some principles,” Seefi purred, perching on the metal slab Luke was laid on and smoothly drawing a vibro blade.

“And you’ve already witnessed every one of them,” a voice called softly yet firmly from the doorway.

Seefi purred again, but this time she sounded nervous, not amused. The Vooak jumped off the slab and turned off the vibro blade, cringing slightly before the figure that had just entered the room. Pendad followed suit, offering a bow that would have been grand had he not already been crouching. Luke turned to look, the only outward sign that this new visitor caused him any interest. She was tall, taller than Seefi, at the very least six foot three. Her dark almond eyes sparkled with cunning, something her stunning body might make one forget—fatally so. Her skin was creamy brown, her hair black with emerald green highlights. She lifted one slender eyebrow, racking her eyes up and down Luke’s beaten body. Her full blood red lips parted with a slight smile.

“I am disappointed, Pendad. You usually show more courtesy than this. Run and get the medic to see to Master Skywalker’s injuries,” she instructed, her rich voice speaking with an out of place kindness. Now it was Luke’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“Such consideration from a member of the Maraheb,” he commented. “I’m impressed.”

Her eyes lit up and she gave a single clap. “Oh, congratulations! I never would have thought a Jedi Master would have been so well informed of our organization.”

“Well, let’s see, my brother-in-law is a smuggler and so are more than a few of my friends, and my wife not only was one of them, but she used to be an assassin herself. Doesn’t speak to kindly of your organization, I’m afraid,” Luke commented with mock sadness.

“Yes, well, we don’t have a great deal of respect for personal assassins here either,” the women said, clasping her slender fingers together and slowly walking towards him, her every movement reminding Luke of some feline creature. “But we will concede that your wife was one of the better ones. So sad to see her go. We were going to induct her but she proved to be too loyal. Such a pity.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “I’m sure.”

“Of course. Pendad, why are you still here? I told you to get a medic,” the woman said disapprovingly. Pendad jumped in surprise and more than a little fear and swiftly moved out a door Luke had not even noticed was there.

Luke turned back to the woman with a perplexed expression. “So who is the person who strikes the fear of death into those who yield death itself?” he asked.

“I am Remhada, that is all you need to know about me,” Remhada said. “Unless you except my offer, then I believe you will learn a great deal more.”

Luke’s eyes narrowed. “And what kind of offer is this?” he asked.

“The kind that will benefit us both,” she said reassuringly. “I sense in you a need to cause death, something that is totally foreign to you in many respects.”

“I have killed many times before.”

Remhada nodded to concede the point, then began again. “But this is different. I have been doing…my job for a long time and I can tell when someone does this willfully or not. And I think you are just looking for a good reason.”

Luke’s eyes narrowed even more and he felt anger rise within him. Who was this woman to assume she knew him so well? And who was she to tell him what he wanted to do?

“I know you don’t just want to go out and murder everyone you see. You’ve regained too much of your sanity at the moment to want to do that,” Remhada commented. Luke frowned, trying to remember what she meant by that. He tried to think back to what had happened at the banquet that might have spurred that comment . . . and he couldn’t remember the end of the banquet. He frowned harder, knowing something major had occurred, but still he could think of nothing.

“But I do know there is one person you do want to kill. All of Coruscant and most of the rest of the galaxy knows who you want to kill. After that rather public explosion of yours I don’t see how they couldn’t,” Remhada moved to sit on the slab beside him and curled her elegant finger to lightly tickle his chin. “If you stay here, you can kill her any way you want. You will have all of the Maraheb behind you. It is the one thing all our members are given in exchange for their services.”

Luke swallowed and leaned back, away from Remhada’s hand. “Don’t you think I’m a little too well known to be an assassin? If I come in contact with any Jedi they’ll sense that at the very least I can use the Force and they would be duty bound to come after me. And it’s rather difficult to get a Jedi off your tail.”

“Yes, we’ve discovered that the hard way in ancient times when there were more of you. It was difficult then since there were Jedi everywhere. But we were better known then, a name to be whispered with the greatest of fear,” Remhada murmured, her voice low with bittersweet reminiscence. “Now there are not so many Jedi, as you well know. So if we have a case where Jedi may be involved, we wait until they are no longer around to take care of it. We know that killing a Jedi would be putting us at risk.”

“Which is probably the only reason I wasn’t killed outright as soon as you came in the room,” Luke commented.

Remhada shrugged. “It was one of them, but there is something else. Our fighting style has become old, outdated, predictable. If there were anyone who knew it as well as one of us, we would have trouble. The Jedi on the other hand have a fighting style all their own, as varied in each of you as the stars. If you could teach us, add your knowledge to ours, then we would have something new and unique.”

“You want me to help you make one of the most skilled assassin’s guild in the galaxy even more skilled?” Luke asked, incredulous. His lip curled in disgust. “Do you realize that goes against every moral fiber in my body? Not to mention every ideal I have tried to teach since I was twenty years old?”

“Well, yes, I do realize that it will take some adjusting. But just think, you can teach them more humane ways to do their work. Some of our techniques are crude and painful by necessity. Perhaps you can find a way to lesson their effect,” Remhada mused out loud.

That did it for Luke, he burst out laughing at the very thought. “I just fell off the edge, lady, I didn’t jump head first! The thought of me helping you to fine-tune your instruments of death is laughable! Besides, even if there was someone I wanted to kill, I want my own death too much to wait.” Now it was Luke’s turn to lean close as he said seriously, “Someone with a death wish is no good to you. I would have no urge to work even if I weren’t wholly morally opposed to everything you’re suggesting. Besides, most of what I know is based on the Force. Not everyone can use it you know.”

“But you would have something to live for! That person you want to kill!” Remhada exclaimed softly. “We both know who it is. I know what happened that broke you, I can put two and two together. She killed Cyan. I also read the medical file on him, and it said that a new rider/dragon pair would be chosen the moment you two were separated. Don’t you want to protect whoever that is from suffering as you did? It’ll probably be a Jedi so you’ll know them. Would you really wish this kind of pain on someone you love and cherish?”

Luke’s brow creased at her words. He knew he was being manipulated, and very deftly at that. Mara had always said it was one of his weaknesses. Mara . . . what if she was the next chosen? “They’ll be looking for me,” he said finally.

“Ah, but everyone thinks you’re dead except for your wife. And even she seems to have given up all hope of finding you,” Remhada answered.

“I . . .” Luke turned away from her, his mind suddenly spinning. How could he even be considering this? It should be an easy choice. Just say no and get on with it. It would be the end, it would be all over and he could go on to the other side. Cyan was there, and so, so many of his friends and family. He looked around the room, trying to buy time before he had to answer. Suddenly something glittered in the corner, catching his eye.

“Luke don’t do this!” Cyan moaned, coming out of the shadows. He stopped half way and reach out a tiny adolescent paw. “Please! Run for the door! You can make it. Go back to Mara! She’ll help you get better, then everything will be all right. I promise! Don’t do this, I don’t want you too.”

Luke glanced at the door, calculating the distance between it and the metal slab. He might be able to make it, but could he find his way out once he was through the door? Suddenly he growled and shook his head. He must really be unstable if he was actually listening to the voices in his head.

He turned to Remhada, his eyes determined. “When do you want me to start?” he asked, ignoring the wail of grief behind him.

—————————————

Mara cried out in fear, sitting up in the bed and hugging her arms around her while she caught her breath. Her hair straggled around her head, matted with sweat. She rubbed the back of her hand across her damp forehead and looked around her bedroom in puzzlement. What had awoken her in such a state? She had the vague feeling that she’d had a terrible nightmare or premonition, but she couldn’t remember what it was. She also wasn’t sure whether or not it was over.

She threw the blankets to the side and wrapped the sheet around her. A part of her mind screamed for her to stay away from her door, and yet another part urged her towards it. Deciding she would rather get it over with if there were something there, she crept forward. She put her ear near the door and listened, using the Force to enhance her hearing to try and sense if there were any life forms out side, but she could detect nothing out of the ordinary. Taking a deep breath, fighting the feelings of trepidation, she hit the panel and stepped through the threshold—

—Into the blaring sun of a vast desert.

There was speeders everywhere, and people hurrying about, recharging blasters, doing last minute checks on their speeders, holstering blast sticks commonly used to close-line someone on your way past. No one looked at her, or seemed particularly alarmed by her presence. If anything all she got were occasional salutes or nods of respect. Mara went to clutch the sheet closer around her and belatedly realized it wasn’t there anymore. It was replaced by a tight leather outfit with a blaster on her belt along with a blast stick and a vibro blade strapped to her thigh. She put her hand to her cheek and felt her hair brush her fingers, and it hit her that there was a lot less of it then there had been moments before. She pulled a strand in front of her eyes and had to struggle to keep them from bugging out. Not only was there less of it, but it was now shimmering blue too.

“Are you alright, love?” This time Mara did jump as Luke rested his chin on her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You look distracted,” he added.

“Oh! I-ah-it’s nothing. Just a little off today,” Mara stuttered, groping for something to say that would fit.

Luke tightened his grip a little protectively. “You can stay behind if you want. Deak can coordinate the squadrons.” He nipped her ear and whispered, “I know this war has never sat well with you, and I know you’ve tried to hide it from me all this time. It’s all right, though. After this, I have a feeling it will all be over.”

“Yes, I think you’re right,” Mara murmured, his words ringing a cold cord inside her.

“Thank you, thank you for coming here,” Luke continued, pulling her as close to his body as he could, his words so low Mara almost couldn’t hear them over the wine of repulsor coils. “You almost make me forget about that empty spot. It doesn’t echo so much when you’re around. I was lost without you.” He pressed his cheek against hers and Mara clasped his hands in hers, feeling them tremble.

Suddenly they were interrupted by a siren screaming, sending everyone around them scurrying for their speeders or gun turrets set up on a near by rise. Luke started running too, pulling Mara along and giving her a gentle push and a small slap on her butt before jumping on his modified bike and revving the engine. Mara gave him a surprised and appropriately outraged glare and got a grin and a wink in response. Rolling her eyes to the sky, she jumped on her speeder and blasted after Luke when he took off without waiting. She saw everyone else un-holstered his or her blast sticks so she pulled hers out too. They sped towards the hill and went over the crest . . .

…and once again she was sitting upright in her bed her hair—still long and sill red—plastered to her face. She glanced around more than a little warily, not quite sure what to do with that dream. She was more than positive it was a premonition, but of what she had no idea. But it did tell her one thing; Luke was defiantly alive and well.

The question was where the hell was he in the meantime, and how did she get there?

“I wonder what it means?” Corran mused latter that week after Mara had described her dream. They sat in the Pilots Lounge with most of the rest of Rogue Squadron. They were being given a brief respite from their month long mission of escorting Leia and other mediators around to the different worlds outraged by the recent events. It had almost been two months since they had tried to find Luke, and Mara still had no idea where to start looking again. “By the way you described the landscape it almost sounds like you were near the Jundland Wastes on Tatooine.”

“Hmm, or maybe you’re just spending too much time in the simulator again,” Mara commented, giving him a playful punch in the arm.

Corran grinned back and responded, “All the more reason I’d know if you were talking about it. Maybe that’s where Luke went?”

“No, I can defiantly still feel his presence on Coruscant,” Mara said, shaking her head. “Beside, I’m pretty damn sure there’s a time gap between now and the dream. A lot of things seemed to have happened, not to mention the change in appearance.”

Corran chuckled, “I wonder what you would look like with blue hair?”

“Oh, for the love of—” Mara began, cocking her fist to hit the cringing Corran in the arm again. She was interrupted by the sound of the door whooshing open and everyone in the room jumping to their feet to salute. Corran did the same but Mara just gave the arrival an unbridled look of disgust.

“Sit down,” Leia said with a careless flick of her fingers. She strode towards Mara and Corran, every set of eyes following her as she went. Neither Leia nor Mara bothered to keep their rivalry secrete, and everyone else in the room could sense the mounting tension in the air. “I need to talk to you Master Jade.”

Mara ginned at Leia’s pointed refusal to add “Skywalker” onto the end of her honorary. The fact that she had put “Master” in there at all suggested that she needed something. “But of course Princess Leia Organa. I serve the New Republic’s will.” Leia’s almond eyes narrowed and she gritted her teeth, ignoring the fact that Mara had used a title she hated and at the same time suggested that she was unworthy of Han’s family.

“I need you to select a mediator to come with me to Tatooine. Having a Jedi there might gain us some points with the revolting faction,” Leia growled. Corran and Mara exchanged glances as if this was significant in some way. Suddenly Mara’s face split in a huge grin.

“Then who better than Luke’s wife and the Princess’s sister in law! I’ve got nothing planned for a long while. It’ll be great,” Mara said with surprising cheerfulness.

“What?” Leia and Corran demanded at the same time.

Mara’s grin widened, if possible. She sat back and crossed her legs, putting her arms behind her head. “Aw, c’mon sis, it’ll be fun! Just you and me doing some good old fashion girl stuff while we save a world from civil war on the side.”

“Mara have you, oh, I don’t know, taken a large quantity of spice lately by any chance?” Corran asked warily.

“Not at all,” Mara said with a shrug. “Besides, it would be nice to see where Luke grew up. You know, except this time without the intention of killing him for an evil dark side master and all that. It might give me some clues as to where he’s gone.”

Leia struggled to wipe the incredulous expression off her face and failed miserably. “I…uh, sure, whatever,” was all she managed. With that she swiftly fled the room.

“That was fun,” Mara said with a satisfied sigh. “Maybe next time I’ll give her an aneurysm.”

“Her or me, whoever comes first. What was all that about, anyway?” Corran demanded, sitting back down.

Mara shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, if you’re right and it was Tatooine I saw in my dream, then I’ll need to be there eventually. When are you guys supposed to be leaving?”

“Ah . . .” Corran’s eyes drifted as he thought about it. “’Bout two and a half weeks from now, I’d say.”

“Good. That’ll give me plenty of time to check something out before I go,” Mara mused, nodding to herself.

“What?” Corran asked curiously.

Mara shrugged again. “Shada asked me to help out the organization until Karrde recovers. There have been reports of some Maraheb action in Invasec. Shada figured I’d be the best one to look into it given my former background.”

“Who are the . . . Maraheb?”

“You’ve never heard of them?” Mara asked, mildly surprised. “I would think a former CorSec agent would have.”

Corran replied dryly, “Apparently not.”

“I guess so. Though I suppose it’s not so far fetched. They’ve been around since the Old Republic was in its birthing pains and have been practicing the art of concealment for all those centuries,” Mara told him. Her eyes darkened as she continued, “They are assassins, possibly the best assassins around these days. They’re so good at concealing themselves it was said that a Jedi Master of old would be hard pressed to track them down.”

“Then what makes you think you can catch them?” Corran asked.

Mara grinned again, but this time it was a grin of true excitement, the grin of a predator about to go on the hunt. “Because I’ve tracked them before. One of them was hired to kill one of Palpatine’s ‘close personal friends’ so I was sent after them. Though sometimes I think the only reason I even caught up to them was because they wanted to induct me. As it was I never caught the guy.”

Corran’s brow creased. “Well, what makes you think you can catch them now?”

“Then I was an assassin with extensive tracking skills and a small ability to use the Force. Now I’m a former assassin with extensive tracking skills, decades of experience and pretty damn good Force ability. I’m not exactly worried about whether or not I will find them. It’s what I’m gonna do when I find them that’s troubling me.”

Chapter IV

“Get your arm up Seefi!” Luke growled as he ducked under her bamboo practice blade and struck the lizard woman a fierce blow to the side. She hissed in pain and tried to regroup and reorganize for a counter attack. She rushed in, hoping to catch him off guard but Luke saw it coming even without the use of the Force. He dodged to the side and jammed the hilt of his blade into her elbow on her way past. She shrieked in surprise and pain, but even as she stumbled to the side, Pendad, who had thought to follow Luke’s attack and get her while she was recovering, was blocked from delivering a hit that would have surely ended her part in the sparing bout.

Though “saved” so to speak, Seefi was still too off balance to stay standing and she landed on the padded floor with an anticlimactic flump. With the sudden absence of pressure Pendad stumbled forward and tripped over Seefi, knocking the wind out from his lungs as he experience a rather rough landing as well.

Luke stopped and looked at the two members of the greatest assassins guild in the galaxy . . . and laughed. “I must say that was the most elegant thing I have ever seen!” he said, still laughing. In fact he was laughing so hard he found it difficult to stand up. Seefi and Pendad just lay there in a heap and glared laser bolts at him.

“Don’t look so upset,” Remhada said from where she lounged against the wall. “He has every right to laugh at this spectacle.”

Luke, still chuckling, wiped a tear from his eye before adding, “My niece and nephews are more stable on their feet. Though in all fairness to Pendad, it was mostly Seefi’s fault.” He walked over and extended his hand to Pendad. “Seefi, you need to protect your face better. And you need to stop that habit of wrapping your tail around your neck and arm when you fight. You have it for balance, not decoration. Use it.

“Pendad, you have to stop putting so much weight into your strikes. You’re not heavy enough to use that to your advantage. You go in, you get out, you ware your opponent down.”

Luke finished helping Seefi up and glanced at Remhada. She was smiling contentedly to herself.

“What?” he asked.

“Just remembering what you said about not being able to teach us anything,” Remhada commented almost proudly. “After looking at this I can see we have a lot more work to do.”

“Speaking of which, when are we going to start my session? I’m ready to go now but if you want me rested before hand . . .,” Luke’s voice trailed off.

“No, we should start now. I hate procrastination,” Remhada said, letting the silk robe drop from her shoulders as she stepped gracefully onto the mat. “Which is why I will be evaluating you on how you perform in this session to see if you’re ready to go out on an assignment.”

Luke shook his head. “I already told you I won’t be doing anything of the sort. It’s amazing that I’m doing as much as I am now!”

“Well, think of it as on the job training. Seefi and Pendad aren’t the only people here who need work. And there are precious few left after the Clone Wars. A problem you are quite familiar with I’m sure,” Remhada said, sliding a light vibro blade from a holster on the wall. Luke followed suit and they began to circle each other warily. Remhada added, “Besides, you wouldn’t have to do any of the killing yourself. Just observe and make sure there is a minimum of mistakes.”

“Inaction is just as bad as driving the blade in with my own hands, Remhada. I’m not going to do it!” Luke punctuated his sentence by suddenly moving forward and delivering a quick series of strikes, trying to see just how on her game Remhada was. She blocked and parried them all with her general ease and Luke moved back again, looking for an opening. Though the blades were set on such a low frequency that they would do no damage if they struck each other, it still stung enough to give the right impulsion to avoid a hit.

Luke dropped his hand just slightly, at the kind of angle only inattention will put it at, and Remhada pushed herself off the balls of her feet to make the strike. Suddenly Luke’s other hand was there slapping hers to the side. He turned with the blow and hooked his foot around her ankle. Remhada stumbled and almost fell, just barely managing to avoid Luke’s follow up. She swung her blade in a wide arc, her lankier limbs giving her more reach than he did.

Then they both moved in at the same time, the blades fizzling as the stuck, the room resounding with the sharp slaps of flesh on flesh, grunts and quick breathing, the pattering of bare feet on the mat.

Remhada moved in quickly, expecting Luke to parry her strike so she could follow with her hand. But he missed, right in the middle of trying for a chest wound. Remhada’s blade went though his wrist, stinging flesh and causing a brief paralysis in his hand. The blade slipped from his grasp and he hissed in pain, stumbling out of her reach. She moved with him relentlessly, kicking out at his leg violently, dropping him to the floor. He fell flat on his back and she brought her blade to his throat, straddling him in a tight grip between her knees to keep him from rolling away.

They stayed that way for a moment, catching their breath. Then Remhada leaned even closer to his face and asked softly, “Why do you do this? You agreed far too easily. I expected more of an argument.”

“My reasons are my own, you don’t need to know them. Just know that I’m helping you,” Luke said harshly.

“That’s not good enough, Skywalker,” Remhada whispered, her face centimeters from his. “I want more and I always get what I want.” She moved closer and suddenly Luke struck out, knocking her off him and feeling the sting of the vibro blade slicing across his throat. He choked but kept rolling until he was on his stomach and no longer touching her. Remhada landed on her side and she stayed that way, her narrow almond eyes studying him closely. He was staring at nothing, but suddenly she saw them focus on something in the unlighted corner. She had seen this happen to him many times, always when faced with the option of leaving. He looked stricken, then he shut whatever it was he saw out and grimaced.

She stood and came over, looking into the corner from his angle and stroked his head. She sensed rather than felt him tense at her touch. “What do you see, Master Skywalker? What foul vision does your mind create when faced with a difficult decision? You’re never getting out of here without a good reason. Why stay faithful when the one you love has given up on you?”

“She hasn’t given up,” Luke whispered, almost cringing away from her hand. He abruptly sat back, stumbling over his own legs. “I’d know! I’d—I’d feel it!” He looked in the corner again and his eyes widened as if someone had said something else. “No! Stop it! Stop it both of you!” He scrambled to his feet, only to trip over his own legs again. He succeeded on his second try, but only to back into the wall, clutching his head. Remhada stood with him, amazed at the abruptness of the event. She had expected him to break at some point but not so quickly and so suddenly. Then she thought about what he said and stepped closer.

“What do you mean ‘both of you’? I’m the only one here, Skywalker,” Remhada said softly.

Luke looked up, stunned. He glanced at the corner nervously and said, “I—I didn’t say there was anyone—anyone else here. I didn’t—” He stopped talking all of a sudden and ran both hands through his hair. He looked steadfastly at the floor and took a deep breath. “We’re done for today,” he decided arbitrarily. Remhada raised an eyebrow, unused to being told what to do. This could be a problem. He looked up at her and after seeing the expression in his eyes, she decided that this was not the time to correct the problem. With one last look in the corner, he left for his room, leaving Remhada to ponder his actions in silence.

Luke walked swiftly down the cold hall, ignoring everyone he saw on his way to his quarters, wondering how he had lost control so quickly and how he could react like that to a simple sparring session.

“You’re acting on instinct,” Cyan said sadly. “C’mon, we’re guys. Biological imperative is always gonna enter into our actions when we rely on our feelings to get us though the day.”

“I’m not—” he stopped himself and glanced around to make sure there was no one listening to him. Seeing no one he turned around and glared at the baby bronze dragon. “I’m not relying on my feelings. In fact I’m trying to ignore them as much as possible. I wouldn’t be teaching in a bloody assassin’s guild if I were even paying the slightest attention to them. Oh, and if anything, this is your fault.”

Cyan sat back on his haunches, looking quite offended. “Me? What did I do?”

“You tried to talk me into leaving! I was going to do it myself but no sane person is actually going to listen to the voices in their head!” Luke exclaimed.

Cyan’s sable eyes widened and he tossed his head in annoyance. “But you aren’t sane! Sure you didn’t do what the voices in your head told you to do, this time, but guess what? You’re having an argument with a figment of your imagination! Get out of here and get some help! This is just as disturbing for me as it is for you!”

“Oh! God forbid my imaginary friend be disturbed!” Luke said, exasperated. He started walking towards his room again, turning his back on Cyan. “Look, I got other things on my mind.”

“Well obviously not as much as you’re supposed to! Take it from something that came directly out of your head, you’re missing some important stuff in there,” Cyan growled.

Luke smacked the control panel and entered his quarters, snarling over his shoulder, “Shut up.”

“Why, Luke?” Cyan asked, trotting around in front of him. “I’m right and you know it! We both know that that’s the hardest part about this. But you can leave, go back up above. Mara will help you, she helped you before. She just didn’t realize how bad you were. But now she knows.”

Luke shook his head, kneeling to look Cyan in the eye. “Then you should understand why I stay here. There’s something to focus on, something to keep me going. I can’t face Leia, I can’t even really remember the banquet because I was so out of control. I never want to be like that again. I could have killed Mara.”

“But you wouldn’t have, and you didn’t, and for that matter who says you have to stay on Coruscant? Maybe you two could go to Dagobah and try to find some focus. Avoid Leia until you know you can control yourself,” Cyan suggested.

Luke smiled sadly and scratched the imaginary character under the chin where he knew the dragon liked. Cyan purred exactly as he remembered; Luke felt his heart ache and Cyan crooned at his distress. Luke continued, “I am avoiding Leia. I’m doing everything you said except this way not only do I not put anyone else I love in danger, but I learn how to control this anger until I need it the most. I’ll never use the Force again, that option is lost to me. But as Remhada said, ‘Death is an art and we must learn to use all the mediums’.”

“But why would you want death? It’s not like you,” Cyan asked, concern evident in his feline imitation of Luke’s voice.

“Like you said, not everything is working like it’s supposed to,” Luke said dryly.

“Well, then you just proved my other point,” Cyan muttered.

Luke frowned. “What other point?”

“You’re reacting to your feelings and emotions if you stay for those reasons. You’re still angry and hurt and all you want is revenge,” Cyan looked up at him appealingly. “Please, won’t you leave here? Save your soul before it’s too late to turn back.”

Luke tilted his head and smiled again. “Then as something that has come out of my head, you know it’s already too late for that.”

“So how is our Master Skywalker fairing?” Remhada asked as she strolled into the observation room.

“Just as well as we predicted, Director Remhada,” the analysis officer said. He gestured to the view screen showing Skywalker in his room, down on one knee and apparently talking to something that didn’t seem to be there. “As always he’s talked himself into calmness again.”

Remhada nodded, pleased. Then she asked, “And what did our little test show you?”

“Exactly as we suspected. He’s relying on instinct since he innately knows he can’t rely on his own logic. His loyalty to his wife overrode the physical pleasure you offered him. Since the logical part of his mind seems to be impaired, the logical reasoning you tried to use to persuade him failed,” the analysis officer explained.

“Anything else?”

The analysis officer nodded, his expression altering slightly to tell Remhada that what he had to say next wouldn’t be good. “Given the increasing occurrence and abrupt nature of these episodes combined with the continued degradation of his neural pathways, I’d have to say he will be uncontrollable within six months, possibly less. We might be able to extend that date if he were to receive support from someone he trusts, but I don’t think he’ll be getting any of that here. At the moment his only contact with his conscious is though hallucinations. Strangely enough he’s fully aware of the fact that they’re not real and that he’s slowly going insane. Given his character profile he should be doing more to fix it.”

Remhada looked at the monitor and watched as Skywalker reached out as if scratching something. “Have you taken into account the events that led up to his illness? The death or separation of the creature called Cyan; he claims his sister killed it. If that’s true then wouldn’t his reliance on instinct lead him to stay with the option that would allow him to gain revenge?”

“That’s one of our current theories. Though all our studies seem to point to a simple suspension in the mental bond, not severance by death. Of course, that doesn’t change what Master Skywalker thinks to be true,” the analysis officer shrugged helplessly.

“Do you have an operation timeline yet?” Remhada asked.

The officer nodded, handing her a data card. “Here. Keep in mind that this is all speculation and any number of outside stimuli could affect it. If you want to keep those numbers to a maximum keep him away from President Organa Solo at all costs. Any contact with her could trigger another ‘Battle of Wills’.”

“Only four months?” Remhada asked. The analysis officer nodded solemnly. Her brow creased ever so slightly with indecision. She thought briefly of perhaps kidnapping someone he trusted but quickly rejected the idea. Anyone she brought in would undoubtedly try and convince him to leave. “Tell me, would downgrading him to instructor again after…say three and a half months extend his usefulness?”

“Make it just three and you might get an extra month. It all depends on how stressful his missions are. As I said, it’s all speculation,” the officer explained.

“Then tell me, how will I be able to lure him into operation if I cannot appeal to his sense of logic or give him the option of taking out Organa Solo?” Remhada demanded.

The officer consulted another data pad before answering, “I would say send him out with agents Seefi and Pendad. Those are the two he has worked with most closely and given his natural over protectiveness all you’ll have to do is hint that they’re not completely ready to go out on higher-class missions. He’ll want to see to their safety himself since he really doesn’t trust anyone here—which is quite smart of him. In fact, if you lay the right amount of doubt on their abilities you will be hard pressed to keep him in.”

“Anything else?” Remhada asked, less than happy with the options. “It won’t work once he sees how far along they really are.”

“Send him out on missions to kill people who have committed heinous crimes. As a Jedi it is his duty to make sure justice is served,” the officer suggested.

Remhada shook her head, rejecting that idea. “I believe that would be more to logical thinking. Besides, didn’t the medical report say that he could no longer use the Force?”

The analysis officer nodded, gesturing to the screen. “Yes, in fact he just indicated that he doesn’t believe himself to still be a Jedi. But the fact that he is persistent in refusing assignments tells us that his morals haven’t been completely compromised.” The officer thought for a moment then indicated, “You might try adding some risk to one of his friends. Don’t threaten them, just say that the target is after them. Or suggesting involvement with the Cyan murder/betrayal. Revenge is always a good spur to physical violence.”

The crease in her brow deepened slightly as Remhada turned to leave. “I see. Well, if that’s the best you have to give me, I’ll be leaving. Thank you for your time, officer.”

——————————

Mara ran down the deserted hallway, her padded feet making only a whisper of noise. Once she had left the main walkways in the “upper-subterranean” section of Coruscant, the Maraheb’s trail had all but disappeared. She was relying completely on the Force now, but that didn’t seem to be hindering her. The sensations were so strong she knew exactly which turn to take, which door to use. She was also aware of an urgency in the air; wherever the Force was taking her, she had to get there fast.

She was unobtrusively protecting an executive at the time, a man who had received several death threats from a rival company suspected of using the Maraheb. She had left the room for only a moment, but when she returned he was already dead from a precision wound in his chest. The assailants had already left but when she went out side she managed to find some traces as to which direction they had gone. They were slight, but easy enough to spot with the Force. The trail went lower and lower until it led right into the building she was now searching. It was an office, and still in use so far as she could tell, even though it was deserted at the moment.

Suddenly there was a crash from down the hall. There was a set of double doors at the end that suddenly thudded as if something had hit them. Mara put new energy in her stride, all attempts at secrecy forsaken. Someone screamed in pain just as Mara reached the doors. She skidded to a stop and spun into a kick, her foot connected hard with the doors but failing to open them. Cursing, Mara pulled out her lightsaber and sliced a squarish hole large enough for her to jump through.

A sudden flash of intuition caused her to duck to the side. A wickedly curved dagger skimmed just past her ear. Mara sent a blind pulse of the Force though the opening she had made and was satisfied by the sound of someone slamming into a wall. Jumping though she saw three bodies, one dead in his chair, another sprawled across a conference table, and the last on the floor. The rest of the people, two humans, a Duros, a Bothan and a Rodian were backed into a corner, staring with stark fear at the hooded and cloaked figures moving towards them. There were three of them, two that had humanoid forms and another with a wicked tail lashing back and forth in excitement. The one with the tail was approaching with a dagger similar to the one that had been thrown at Mara. The two humanoids were looking at Mara now, one half turned towards their victims and looking like it was the one Mara had thrown against the wall, while the other was staring at her with wide eyes—he was also unarmed. Mara reached out with the Force and pulled the dagger from the tailed one’s hand. It clattered to the floor just as Mara leapt onto the table and dropped into a combat crouch.

“How about you be nice little assassins and stand down now. Then you can make me real happy by taking me to your base,” Mara growled. All three of them looked at each other, then the unarmed one made a quick sign with his hand and they bolted for the wall. Mara glanced in the direction they were running and saw an open ventilation shaft. Jumping off the table she tried to slash at the unarmed one; he had paused to let the other two get in front of him before running himself. Anticipating her move, he ducked below the glowing blade and stopped abruptly. Her momentum made her pass him—she tried to stop and turn to meet him but she stumbled over her own feet. The assassin moved in, grabbing her left hand and pressing down on a weak spot that was the result of an old injury. Crying out, Mara dropped her lightsaber and tried to pull away. The man kicked out, catching her ankles. She fell backwards, landing hard on a chair before rolling off on to the floor. She got a brief glimpse of his eyes before he followed the others and she was surprised to see regret in them.

She tried to get up but stopped when she felt a shooting pain in her back. She just lay there for a moment, assessing her injuries. She carefully turned her head to the ventilation shaft and just managed to catch sight of one of the assassin’s feet disappearing through it. She knew she shouldn’t—couldn’t—get up, so she looked at the remaining people in the office and realized they had fled during her brief confrontation. Sighing, she slowly reached into her pocked and pulled out her comlink, wondering as she did why the unarmed assassin seemed so bloody familiar.

Seefi engaged the lock on the transport tube and turned around just in time to see Luke slam his fist into the wall. “Didn’t that hurt?”

“Yes,” Luke snarled, clenching his left fist and grinding his teeth. The tube started moving, taking them through a randomly chosen rout to another tube that would take another randomly chosen rout to the base. “Who the hell was our informant on the first hit? They screwed up royally.”

“It was one of our repeat customers, only a light check was done. They’ve never given us a bad hit before,” Pendad said.

Seefi’s tail curled around her waist nervously as she asked, “Who was that? Did you know her?”

Luke barked a laugh, “Of course I know her. It was my damn wife! And it won’t take her long to figure out it was me who attacked her.”

“Well, what are we going to do?” Pendad asked, also a little wary of Luke’s sudden anger.

“Nothing. This is Remhada’s problem. I warned her about this and she ignored me. So now she can figure out what to do. I didn’t even want to come along,” Luke growled.

They were all silent until they reached the complex. Luke sent Seefi and Pendad to their quarters, telling them that he would brief Remhada. Glad to be given an option to escape, they both turned and left, almost running in their eagerness to be away. Luke watched them go for a moment and then shook his head before smacking the panel on the door to Remhada’s office. She was sitting on her desk looking at a data pad; she started at Luke’s abrupt entrance.

“Master Skywalker! I have told you before that I would prefer you knock before you enter,” Remhada said tersely, rising.

Luke stared at her for a second and then laughed. “Oh, give it up. I’d notice if you were having sex in here. Secretive people tend to broadcast though the Force, and you’re no exception.” Ignoring her shocked expression, he sat across from her and fixed her with a smoldering glare. “I hope you’re happy.