Beyond - Legends "The Shadow of Fate" (SJRS Challenge: Episode VII) Complete! 29 August

Loved Leia's poignant reflections in the flashback and Sola's loving warmth! on how that scene ended!

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Sola with Ben & Luke - love her forthrightness! She tells it like it is--in the romance department especially. I am not surprised that Leia and Mara know what's up with Jaina/Zeb.



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Queen Nebulla is a decisive and courteous leader. And Corran looking into things. Nice.

I am happy there will be security troops

 

Yeah, I hope that Leia's baby is going to be all right.

 

There have been so many fics recently with such tragedies - in my defence this was all written several months ago!

Thank you! I love Sola, and she really is the Naberrie matriarch who keeps the SkySolos in line

Events are coming to a head now

Unfortunately it's not good news - it's too early in the timeline for Jaina and of course Leia in the main narrative has already ruminated on this particular tragedy...

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Chapter 30



1 NRE

There was darkness all around her, clouding her vision, smothering the voices around her until there was nothing but a haze of pain and shadow. It was as if Leia was drowning in a sea of thick clouds, struggling to keep her head aloft and turned towards the light while invisible hands kept pulling her down into the depths.

Every now and then she could surface and catch glimpses of what was going on around her. The first time, the countryside of Naboo whipped past her with incredible speed, and next to her was Sola, driving the speeder. The pain in her abdomen was indescribable, and Leia weakly raised her head.

“Theed…” she managed to rasp. She’d made preparations to have the baby in the capital, which housed the finest medical facilities on the planet. Theed’s meddroids were top of the line and the envy of the Mid Rim, but the lake district was too provincial for such technology.

Sola shook her head, looking anxious and concerned. “I’m sorry, it’s too far, Leia,” she said, accelerating slightly. “We don’t have time. I’m taking you to Lago, it’s the nearest town with a medical facility. I’ve commed Darred and Han, they’ll have to meet us there.”

“No,” Leia tried to hold onto consciousness but felt the darkness come once again to claim her. “Theed...”

The second time, she was lying in a stark white room being hooked up to machinery. Two women were also present, and Leia started to panic - she was hardly elitist, but a human could not possibly hold the sum of medical knowledge and procedure a droid did, so there was a greater margin of error.

“Please be calm, Madame Solo,” the elder of the two said. “I’m a doctor, and I’m going to help you.”

“My baby...” Leia tried to reach down to her stomach, but found that she couldn’t move.

“I’ve administered a sedative,” the doctor said. “Your baby is in distress, and we need to perform an emergency c-section.” She nodded towards the younger woman. “The nurse is now going to give you a general anaesthetic.”

“No,” Leia said weakly, trying to bat the nurses’ hands away but of course it was hopeless. “I want...awake…”

“Trust us, Madame.”

Leia felt her consciousness slipping and tried to counter the effects of the drug through the Force. But it would not answer her call, or perhaps she simply wasn’t trained enough.

“Han…” she called out desperately as she once again fell into the shadows. “Jacen...” she called out to her child with the name they had chosen for him, trying to grasp that tenuous link so that he would not be pulled away from her.

Yet she sank alone into the darkness, until she could not even see the light from where she had fallen. She dwelled there for some time, thrashing about it the darkness trying to breach the surface again, but only succeeding in making herself fall further. It was only when she stopped struggling and allowed the shadows to envelop her that she stopped sinking, and was instead held suspended by the black tendrils. Only then could she claw her way back to the surface.

The third time Leia awoke, she was in another room, although it still had the stark white walls and gleaming silver equipment of a medcentre. She was laying in a bed, although the back was propped upright so she was in a semi-sitting position, and Leia lifted her head to look around. Through the large transparisteel window she could see greenery and a distant lake, and on the other side of the room were more windows, although through them was an empty corridor.

Leia was too scared to look down at her abdomen, so instead focused her attention on her arm, where a clear liquid was being pumped into her veins intravenously. Since Leia still felt groggy and disoriented, she assumed it was more sedative, and reached to pull the tubes out.

A small hand stopped her, and Leia looked up to see the kind eyes of the nurse. “Madame Solo,” she said gently. “You need to rest.”

“Han?” Leia’s mouth was dry and her tongue sluggish.

“Your husband is on his way,” the nurse told her. “I...I’m so sorry, Madame Solo,” she added. “I’m afraid-”

“Don’t say it,” Leia ordered her. If she didn’t say it, then it couldn’t be true - if the words were kept from crossing the nurse’s lips, a wild, irrational part of Leia believed that she could keep it from being real. But deep down she knew what had happened, even if no one ever spoke the words to her.

“Bring me my baby,” she said to the nurse.

“Madame...”

Leia’s blood was ice in her veins as the shadows folded around her heart. She stared at the nurse calmly and coldly. “Bring. Me. My. Baby.”

The nurse seemed frightened, and as if compelled to obey she backed out of the room. This time, Leia did not try to fight the dark shadows which clung to her, rather she let them hold her upright, to give her strength. The nurse came back with a bundle of cloth in her arms and a glazed look in her eyes, but Leia felt no guilt for using her Force abilities on the woman.

Leia took the small baby with shaking hands, taking in a shuddering breath as she held him against her chest. She stroked the dark hair that crowned his tiny head, sorrow overwhelming her as she faced the undeniable truth. The only thing she could think was how much he looked like Han, and inside her heart crumbled to dust.

She tried to reach out through the Force to him, as she had done when he was in her womb. But she felt nothing. No life at all.

Darkness swirled around Leia once again, only this time it pinched at her skin, drawing out a quiet rage from within her. Her grief mixed with anger and despair, flowing outwardly like blood from a wound. The windows began to shake slightly, and then the clear fluid in the drip beside her bed began to boil. The nurse seemed to snap out of her trance, looking around fearfully and called for help.

The doctor strode in, and shot the nurse a contemptuous look. But then she put a gentle hand on Leia’s shoulder. “Madame Solo,” she said softly in an effort to calm her down. “We must take him now, before you hurt yourself.”

“No,” Leia shook her head. The doctor nodded towards the nurse, who seemed to regain her composure and shakily rounded Leia’s bed. The doctor reached for Jacen, prying Leia’s fingers away.

“No!” Leia tried to hold him to her breast, to keep him with her as the glass of the windows shattered. The nurse held Leia’s shoulders firmly, pinning her back against the bed as the doctor pulled Jacen from her arms and fled from the room. “No…” Leia wailed, unable and unwilling to control herself. The room began to shake, as if the very earth below the building was breaking apart. The nurse screamed, but Leia barely heard it - all she would hear was the pounding of her heart, the rush of her blood, the primal wail of her own fractured soul.

And then her pain shifted into something else. Something almost pleasurable in the damage she knew she could cause, to make each and every person in the area feel her anguish. Didn’t they deserve to be punished, an insidious voice whispered - wouldn’t it be justified, as they had not saved her child? The shadows enveloped her, and she gave herself over to it, to release herself to the void without a care of who she dragged down with her.

But then she felt warm hands on her face, and as if from far away a familiar voice calling out her name. Leia blinked, and soft brown eyes came into focus before her.

“Leia,” Han said desperately, his face stricken with fear and tears wet on his cheeks. “Sweetheart, it’s me.”

It was that old nickname which had once driven her insane every time it had been spoken. Later, she’d realised exactly why she had hated that particular nickname so much, when there were so many others said in that sardonic, mocking tone of his. Perhaps because she’d known, deep down, that there was a part of him that wasn’t mocking - that actually meant it, that every time he said it his heart was crying out to hers.

Leia let go of a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding, her gaze locking onto Han’s to pull herself away from the brink. The shaking stopped and silence fell in the small room. The darkness receded; Han’s warm presence chasing away the taint which had grasped for her soul. It had been the dark side, she’d touched, Leia could recognise it now. She’d felt it before on occasion; when Alderaan had been destroyed and when Luke had told her Vader was her father. But this was the first time she had almost given into it, had fully felt its insidious pull.

She began to cry, and Han pulled her into his tight embrace. His tears mingled with hers as his large hands stroked her hair, and Leia found her equilibrium again. The darkness was still there, on the fringes of her consciousness, but Leia knew how to recognise it now. She knew how to fight it.

A soft breeze filtered in through the shattered window, and Leia turned her face towards the light once more.

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29 NRE

The Singing Mountain Clan of Dathomir were well-named, their home carved inside cavernous mountains which dwarfed the plains below. The settlement was so high that the fierce winds constantly blew past the openings carved into the rock, but the resulting sound was melodious and soothing.

Kara cast an admiring gaze over the Dathomiri warriors assembled to greet them in the great hall; their strong, exposed legs, their detailed armour made from rancor hide, the elaborate headdresses and their proud, beautiful faces. She had enjoyed her previous time on the planet, and had spent many enjoyable evenings in the hall, when the witches removed their headdresses and told stories and ballads, light from the firepit dancing across their high cheekbones and gleaming teeth as they laughed and sang.

Damaya was the matriarch of the Singing Mountain Clan, and sat on a throne carved into the rock of the mountain itself. “Welcome again, Kara of Clan Ravenlok,” she called lightly as they approached.

Kara gave Damaya a slight bow, and Eren mimicked the motion. “Greetings, Damaya,” he said clearly so that all assembled could hear. “Clan Mother of the Singing Mountain. May I present my companion Eren Pax, Jedi Master.”

“Eren,” Damaya nodded. “We are always honoured by the presence of a sister Jedi.”

“Thank you, Clan Mother.” It was Eren’s first visit to Dathomir, but Kara had schooled her on all of the necessary protocols.

“But why have you returned so soon, Kara?” Damaya asked. “Master Skywalker did not find the source of his visions here.”

“There have been some developments,” Eren answered for her - as the senior Jedi it was her perogative. “We have reason to believe Sith may have indeed visited your planet recently.”

There was a general murmuring amongst the witches, but Damaya held up her hand and everyone fell silent.

“Sith?” she asked, and Kara could see the concern clear on her face. “That is troubling indeed.”

“We believe that these Sith may have been the cause of the disturbance Master Skywalker and I were searching for on our last visit,” Kara explained.

“As I recall, you did not find any indication of the dark side then,” Damaya said evenly, a hint of suspicion creeping into her voice. “What has changed?”

“We encountered the Sith and his apprentice on Tatooine,” Eren told them, looking Damaya directly in the eyes as Kara had told her. The witches held that any lie could be uncovered through prolonged eye contact. “Master Skywalker believes that they’d been visiting planets important in his family history.”

Damaya leaned forward slightly on her throne, regarding them curiously. “Yet he did not sense their presence here before.”

“We didn’t know exactly what we were looking for,” Kara suggested. She and Eren had discussed the matter at length on the trip through hyperspace, how Luke could have missed that the Sith had been on Dathomir before him. Eventually they had decided the most likely option was that on Tatooine the Sith had wanted to be sensed, although for what purpose was still unclear. Other than surprising them at Jabba’s Palace, they had been a step behind the Sith all of the way, dancing to their tune. Hopefully they could find something on planet which would be useful.

“We did learn the name of the Sith - Svel Delrond, a former Imperial Commander,” Eren was telling the assembled warriors. “His apprentice’s name is Fin, but that is all we know of him.”

Damaya’s gaze drifted over her sisters. “Mataylia,” she called to a woman wearing shimmering green hide and a headdress of purple and blue feathers. “I sense you recall something which may be of use.”

Mataylia stepped forward with some trepidation. “Yes,” she nodded at Kara. “As you know, sister, some years ago I was in the thrall of the Nightsister clan of the Smoky Rivers. Before Masters Skywalker, Organa and Jade came to liberate those of our souls that could be saved. One of the Nightsisters was married to an Imperial...I think Svel was indeed his name.”

Kara sighed - she and Luke had not searched the Smoky Rivers on their last visit, since their aerial survey had not indicated any human lifeforms in the old Nightsister settlement. She turned to Eren with a grimace, to communicate this, and she saw the Jedi Master's Pau'an cheekbones tense in contemplation.

“Will you take us there?” Kara asked Mataylia, knowing just much she was asking of the woman. But she was a Dathomiri warrior, and to her credit Mataylia squared her jaw and nodded in agreement.

Eren’s comm unit beeped, and she examined it for a few moments and then began typing a reply. “It’s Kirana Ti and Tenel Ka arrived from Coruscant," she said to Kara lowly as Mataylia spoke with Damaya, no doubt receiving instructions to report back anything they found. "I’ll tell them to meet us there.”

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The Smoky Rivers were almost a week’s rancor ride from the Singing Mountain, but it was only a short trip in the Fury's Lament. By the time Eren, Kara and Mataylia had reached the former Nightsister settlement in the midst of marshland between the rivers, Kirana Ti and Tenel Ka were already waiting for them, their two-person B-Wing a short distance away.

A dozen or so mud huts were scattered around the settlement, and the place looked as deserted. The red sky above gave the place an eeire desolation, and Eren didn’t blame Luke and Kara for thinking that there was no reason to search it thoroughly.

“This isn’t what I expected from a Nightsister camp,” Tenel Ka observed as they walked through the settlement, the reddish-grey fog which gave the rivers their name thick around them. She wrinkled her nose as the pungent smell from the nearby swamps, and Eren smiled at the young woman's distaste.

“It wasn’t to start with,” Kirana Ti told them, picking her was carefully through the sinkholes which were smattered around the campsite. “The Nightsisters were an ancient race - wiped out during the Clone Wars. Yet their teachings remained, and when the witch Gethzerion was banished from the Singing Mountain Clan, she found them. She gathered the other banished, taught them the Nightsister ways and made a stronghold in the old Imperial penal colony.”

Tenel Ka rolled her eyes, since she had probably heard the story a thousand times from her mother, but Eren appreciated the knowledge since she had scant knowledge of Dathomiri culture other than what Kara had told her.

“And this place?” Eren asked, looking around the settlement which was far less grand than the dwellings of the Singing Mountain.

“We were a small clan,” Mataylia said, clearly ill at ease. “I was young, then. One day Gethzerion came, enslaving our men and killing all those who refused to join her. Ava was the first - she had always been fascinated with the Nightsisters of old - she used to tell strange stories about one who lived further out into the swamp. It was foolishness, no one could live any deeper, not with the smoke in the air.”

“Ava,” Eren filed the name away. “That was the woman married to Delrond?”

“Yes,” Mataylia nodded. “He came from the stars seeking the Nightsisters, and she claimed him as her mate. She taught him the ways of the Force in secret, since it was forbidden to teach a man spells.”

“I did not know any of this,” Kirana Ti said, her brow furrowed. But Eren remembered that Kirana Ti had returned with Master Skywalker from Dathomir following his, Mara and Leia's first visit there, so had likely never been close to Mataylia. Eren had been just a girl then, attending the Academy classes and waiting for the day she would become a padawan.

“I escaped not long after,” Mataylia continued as if Kirana Ti had not spoken. “I lived in solitude, not believing myself worthy to join a clan until Master Skywalker came.” She put gentle hand on Tenel Ka’s shoulder. “Your mother would bring me food sometimes.”

Tenel Ka smiled. “She had a habit of doing that from what I gather.”

But Eren was unconcerned with such matters, her focus on the mission. “Do you know what happened to Ava or Delrond?” she asked, wondering if his Nightsister wife was still out there. Could she be the Dark Lady?

Mataylia shook her head. “I never saw her again.” She stopped before a large hut with the symbol of a clawbird carved over the entrance. “This was where they lived,” she gestured towards the hut. “I...I will wait out here.”

A chill passed through Eren as she ducked to enter the hut, the remnants of the dark side faint but nonetheless there. She recognised the presence she’d felt on Tatooine while dueling Delrond, and turned to Kara for confirmation.

“This is the place,” she agreed, looking through the trinkets collected on a table - left out as if the occupant had run out in a rush and hadn’t had time to tidy up or take their belongings with them.

Eren found a small wooden box with the same clawbird carved into the top - Delrond's sigil. Inside was a tattered piece of flimsiplast with an old-fashioned holoimage of a man and woman still clear. The woman was perhaps twenty-five, with flowing blonde hair and pale skin - her belly was round and full with child, but despite that her carriage perfect and erect. She looked directly at the holocamera, her grey eyes hard and cold. The man beside her was perhaps thirty years younger than the one Eren remembered from Tatooine, but his dark hair and intense gaze was unmistakable.

Wordlessly, she handed the holo to Kara, who immediately paled, her fear spiking through the Force. Eren knew that the young woman had been having nightmares ever since Jabba's Palace, the encounter deeply unsettling her.

“It’s Delrond,” Kara said in a shaky voice. “Mataylia was right, he was here - and married to a Nightsister.”

“Not just that,” Tenel Ka spoke up from the corner of the room, studying a small wooden piece of furniture Eren soon realised was a crib. Tenel Ka lifted out a small blue blanket, old and worn yet clean. She held the blanket out across her chest, so that the embroidery could clearly be seen: another clawbird, a rancor and the name Fin.

“So Fin is not just Delrond’s apprentice,” Eren realised with sickening dread. “But his son.”

Kirana Ti looked uneasy. “The boy has not only had Sith heritage, but Nightsister as well?”

“But I thought the Nightsisters were defeated,” Tenel Ka said, looking confused, clutching the blanket nervously to her chest. “Isn’t that when my parents first met?” She looked skyward, doing the calculations in her head. “It was 4 NRE - twenty five years ago.”

Kiranai Ti nodded. “Yes. This Fin could only have been a small child, perhaps still an infant.”

Eren sighed deeply, the bad feeling she’d had upon entering getting worse. “We should comm Master Skywalker with the information.”

“And then we go to Naboo as well, right?” Kara challenged. “To help him and Ben.”

Eren was torn. “There’s enough Masters away from Coruscant as it is,” she argued. “I feel it is unwise to leave the Temple so unprotected.”

“But the Sith are not on Coruscant, “ Kara insisted. Eren sympathised with the young woman, since her affection for Luke was strong, and her concern understandable.

“No, but the Dark Lady might be,” Eren pointed out. “We don’t know where she is, or what her Zabrak apprentices are up to.” She did not feel that this Ava was the Dark Lady, since there was no evidence she had any connection to the Sith pair and Eren felt that a Nightsister mother would be her child's instructor rather than his Imperial father. No, she felt that Ava was dead, and Svel had raised her son, teaching him the dark ways as he'd been taught by both the Emperor and Ava.

“I vote for Naboo,” Tenel Ka spoke up, and Eren could see she was eager for glory. As a young Knight it was understandable, but Eren was older, wiser and had actually felt the insidious and sickly presence of the Dark Side in Delrond - something she had no desire to experience again.

“Kirana Ti?” she asked, decided to defer to the older woman given her place on the Council. “Where should we go?”

Kirana Ti looked back at the blue blanket Tenel Ka was still holding against her chest, and then at Eren with clear resolve. “Naboo,” she decreed. “If this Delrond is a Sith as well as being trained by the Nightsisters, Luke and Ben are going to need all the help they can get.”

 

Oh, wow, just uber!uber! awesome flashback. First word to last!!!!!!

Glad the decision is for Naboo in the now-scene.

 

Thank you, although it was emotional and angsty, that section is actually one of my favourite parts of the fic, perhaps because Leia's heartbreak really sets up her character arc for the rest of the flashback sections (and has great impact on Luke as well)

 

The flashback section is just... extraordinary, and ouchy. Really good capture of Leia's character at a moment of pure raw emotion. The H/L there is amazing, and I love the way their love shines through here. As much as I'm enjoying the L/M flashback sections, Leia and Han's relationship is just as compelling throughout this story and it's great!

Liked the glimpse of Dathomir in the New Republic era, very interesting! And now perhaps they've found a couple of answers, or at least more specific questions.

 

Okay, so I'm super behind on the reviews ), but since I'm sure you're getting ready (soon) to post another new chapter, I figured I should catch up. So...29. AUNTIE SOLA! I am so here for Auntie So' and her lovely relationship with her niece and nephew. Her talk with Leia in the flashback, and her banter with Luke and Ben in the present, is everything I could imagine it being. It just brings to mind how cheated we were in the EU because Luke and Leia didn't find out about their mother for thirty-five years. Which, yes, okay, Prequel embargo blah blah blah. But still. So it's nice to see that they formed a close and loving relationship in this 'verse!

And Chapter 30...UGH. Here, take my heart. Even though we knew it happened from earlier in the story, it was gut-wrenching to read. Poor Leia. Re: the present, I want to know more about Luke, Mara, and Leia liberating the Nightsisters! Good for the ladies for putting some more pieces together!

 

Oh wow, that flashback was really, really hard to read. A good friend of mine lost her first child two years ago (her baby was stillborn at 36 weeks), and it's just an incredibly awful experience. I honestly can't imagine imagine much worse. That was beautifully written, and makes perfect sense that Leia would touch the dark side then. I wonder what Luke's reaction is.

 

Oookay, I'm caught up again on the last several chapters, and I'd really like to know what took us all to write pregnancies with tragic endings all at the same time That was beautifully written, but oh boy.

I like how the main plot is progressing to provide answers but also hint at new directions. I'm particularly intrigued by the mention of Zeb's old gang in the Coruscant underworld a few chapters back -- somehow I feel that many pieces of the puzzle will fall in place when that bit is explored. And I really enjoy how the flashbacks are giving us insights into the present-time characters' personalities and motivations, although there again I suspect that this ties in to the plot in a stronger way than it seems -- how much of all that do our two Sith characters know from their research into the Skywalkers' past? (and not only the Skywalkers, Kara probably comes into the picture somewhere, doesn't she?)

Anyway, I had a lovely (and sad) evening reading this. Thank you

 

Thank you! While I love H/L, writing them is definitely not in my comfort zone (perhaps because they have such a healthy relationship ) but they really have such a strong bond that they are really are each other's anchor.

Confession - originally this chapter took place later but I had to juggle due to some timeline issues, so hopefully it works. Finding out that Fin is Svel's son, not just his apprentice is a big step forward for them. I actually really love the idea of Dathomir, although the Clone Wars version is very different from the Legends version, and my version is a merging of the two.

Yes, the chapter is a bit late, because I wanted to finish and post the rest of Strength of Will, since it deals some backstory stuff for the next chapter, but that fic has stalled a bit, so...

I love Sola so much, especially being that cheeky old Auntie who tells everyone what's what The Skywalkers and the Naberrries having a close family relationship is really important to me, since we didn't get it in Legends and I'm not sure what we'll get in the new canon (but hey, Claudia Karvan's still working and they could easily slap on some old age makeup...)

It really was the worst day of Leia's life, but I guess I can't resist putting my favourite characters through some heartbreak...

The Dathomir quartet are capable ladies And stay tuned in the sequel for some Nightsister flashbacks!

Oh, that's awful - I can't imagine either how harrowing something like that must be in real life. I hope I've done it justice in this fic and not trivialised the issue, because it does have drastic consequences going forward, and I've tried in previous chapters to make clear that it's a trauma she still carries. Leia in my view would be susceptible to the dark side particularly in such a moment, but of course love is always enough to pull her back.

I think people will enjoy reading Luke's reaction a bit more...

The timing is strange, isn't it! Maybe we're all on the same wavelength

Ah, well, funny you should mention....

Thank you for reading! All I will say it that you may be onto something, but I don't want to spoil anything!

 

Tags: Gemma






Chapter 31


1 NRE

Luke had left her a message at the Temple, cancelling that day’s session but not leaving a reason why. He’d blocked his presence in the Force so Mara could not even get a read on him, and he refused to answer his comm. It took her the better part of the day to track down a member of the Naberrie family on Naboo, and finally Mara had been able to speak briefly with Luke’s aunt Sola who informed her of the terrible news.

It was then that Mara made her way to his apartment at 500 Republica. He’d given her the codes a while back in case of an emergency, so she entered the apartment but did not actually expect to find him there. And yet he was standing on his balcony, staring unblinking at the sunset. She was surprised he hadn’t immediately jumped in his X-wing and set course for Naboo, but then she felt the instability of his grief through the Force, and knew that he would not allow himself to go to his sister until he was firm enough to comfort her. Once again, Mara was amazed at his selflessness, and yet saddened by his burdens. Who was there to comfort him, when he was so concerned with giving solace to everyone else?

“Skywalker?” she called to him softly, approaching him with caution. He did not answer, and as she drew closer she saw that while his face was impassive, his cheeks were wet with tears. Mara put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “I’m so sorry, Luke.”

He turned, perhaps at her rare use of his given name, and her heart broke at the pain in his eyes, darkened with anguish to a deep blue. Moved by instinct, she cupped his cheek with one hand and stroked the reddened skin with her thumb, unable to express in words the comfort she wished to give him.

Luke bowed his head, and she wasn’t sure if she pulled him into an embrace, or if he moved first and she accommodated him, but suddenly her arms were around him and his face was pressed against her shoulder. She could not feel him weep, his body utterly still, but his tears were wet against the fabric of her tunic, his fingers digging into her shoulderblades. She stroked the hair on the back of his neck gently and let him cry, her own heart sinking at his palpable despair.

Eventually she lifted up his head again, cupping his face in her hands. She wiped away the tears with her thumbs and stroked his cheek softly. He stared at her, and she saw nothing, a sudden emptiness gnawing at her heart at his sorrow that was so deep it could not penetrate his expression.

If she would never know who initiated their embrace, she would forever remember that it was she who had kissed him. It was instinctive, although she had never had such instincts before, to press her lips gently against his as a form of comfort and solidarity. It was a chaste kiss, but when she pulled back there was a spark in his eyes, the first real indication of life she had seen since entering his apartment.

All she knew was that she couldn’t bear his lifelessness any longer, and so she kissed him again, wanting to ignite the spark she had found. This time he returned her kiss, his lips parting, warm and soft under hers. She drew him in deeper, pulling out his pain and sorrow and taking it into herself, dispersing it so that there was nothing left but her lips on his, her hands running through his hair and his body pressed against hers.

It seemed right, as if they had always been moving towards this moment. He clung to her desperately, taking her kisses and caresses and demanding more. In return she stole his sorrow, drawing it out like poison from his mind and took it inside herself. She knew how to break such dark thoughts and scatter them, dissipating their power to release their hold on his mind. And yet the action did not cause her pain despite the rawness and jagged edges of his suffering. On the contrary, his passionate embrace enlivened a fire within her and she willingly gave herself over to it.

For perhaps the first time in her life, Mara had no thought for what tomorrow would bring, did not analyse her action for possible repercussions or exercise her habitual caution. Instead all she felt was Skywalker’s body and presence in the Force melding with her own; to bring them both joy and relief in a world of bitter sadness and disappointment. It was the cliff they’d been teetering on for months, neither one brave enough to even toe the edge and look into the waters below.

But now Mara simply held Luke tightly against herself, and threw them both off.

_______________________________________________________


29 NRE

Mara slid into a booth at the Mother Jungle, an Ithorian diner which in recent years had become a frequent haunt for herself and Leia. Her sister-in-law was already there, dressed in a casual blue jumpsuit and her dark hair braided over one shoulder; in appearance as far away from a princess and Chancellor as one could get. Although her face was known galaxy-wide, they'd found that sometimes the simplest disguises worked the best.

“Mara,” Leia greeted her with a warm smile. “Right on time, as usual.”

“It was a relief to get away from the Temple,” Mara confided in her. “Administration is not one of my strengths - I can’t wait for Luke to get home so he can take all of that shavit back over.”

Leia’s smiled turned knowing. “Yes, I’m sure that is the reason.”

Before Mara could give a witty rejoinder they were approached by the Ithorian owner of the restaurant, the elderly but elegant Nimu.

“Madame Prestor,” she greeted Leia in heavily accented Basic. “And Madame Claria,” she nodded to Mara. “It is lovely to see you again. The usual?”

“Yes, thank you Nimu,” Leia said, and Mara nodded in assent. Of course, their actual identities were well known to the staff due to the frequency of their patronage, but Nimu ran an impeccable and private establishment ensuring that their presence had never been leaked to the holopress.

“I thought Jaina might be joining us,” Leia noted when Nimu had left to prepare their order. “She’s been training so hard I barely get to see her.” Mara didn’t miss the wistfulness in Leia’s voice - even at nineteen, Jaina was still her baby.

“She’s down in the lower levels,” Mara told her, keeping her voice low so they would not be overheard. “Still on the case of the Dark Lady’s recruits down there.”

“Ah,” Leia nodded, a pleased smile tugging at her lips. “So that’s where Zeb was in a rush to get off to.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t tell you, Leia,” Mara said, since she knew how close the young man was to her sister. Although, Mara smiled to herself, it seemed he was now much closer to Jaina, and likely didn’t want to court the young woman under Leia’s watchful eye.

“I’ve found as Chancellor, sometimes to the less I know the better,” Leia said with a slight grimace. “Plausible deniability and all that.”

“Of course,” Mara nodded. “Avarice still on your case then?”

“Was he ever off it?” Leia raised an eyebrow in response, and through the Force Mara felt her bristle in irritation.

“He was in the Jedi Archives today,” Mara told her. “Or so Tionne informed me.”

“That’s strange.” Leia fell silent for a moment as Nimu returned and placed two glasses of Ithorian brandy on the table along with a platter of starfruit and dried covado berries. She thanked the Ithorian and waited until she was out of earshot before continuing.

“I’m surprised Tionne let him in after the grilling he gave her during the last report to the Senate,” Leia said, nibbling on a slice of starfruit.

“Well the Archive is publicly accessible,” Mara reminded her, swirling the brandy in her glass before taking a sip. “She couldn’t exactly refuse him entry.”

“I suppose.” Leia rubbed her temple tiredly. “Do you know what he was looking up?”

Mara smiled and handed her a datapad, having anticipated the question. “Luke may have wanted Jedi knowledge accessible by all, but I made sure Ghent wrote a tracking program into the software so we would know who was looking at what.” She remembered how uncomfortable that had made Luke at the time, but in the end he'd accepted her advice and it had proved useful over the years.

Leia took the datapad and examined the results of Avarice’s archive searches, scrunching her nose in displeasure.

“Anakin Skywalker,” she read the data entry titles Avarice has accessed. “Sun of Suns prophecy, The rise of Darth Sidious, The Blockade of Naboo, History and Legends of the Sith, the Redemption of Darth Vader.” Clearly having read enough, she put the datapad down. “It makes a strange sort of sense. He doesn’t believe that the Sith ever existed, but now he needs the threat of their return to run a scare campaign.”

“Is that all you think it is?” Mara asked. Her danger sense had been pricked at moment Tionne had told her about Avarice’s visit.

Leia took a long drink of her brandy, clearly pondering the matter. “You think he might be in league with the Sith, not just using the rumors to his advantage?”

“I can find out, if you like,” a cool, crisp voice cut into their conversation, and Mara knew without looking who is belonged to. Even if she hadn’t recognised the voice, there were very few people who could sneak up on Mara Jade undetected.

“Hello Shada,” she greeted her one-time colleague as she slid into the booth next to Leia. Shada picked up a slice of starfruit and popped it into her mouth.

“I don’t think the Senate would take too kindly if I had a Senator followed,” Leia said with clear disappointment. “My accounts are all watched.”

“I can do it off the books,” Shada suggested. “But I gather that’s not why you commed me.”

“No,” Mara confirmed, withdrawing a handkerchief from her pocket and placing it on the table. Then she carefully pulled the fabric aside to reveal a small silver disc. “This is.”
_________________________

The lower levels were always dark, the only light coming from the ultra-neon signs hanging above the various bars, clubs and spice dens that littered the grimy streets. Jaina always had difficulty adjusting to the gloom, far too used to the bright skies above the surface. Zeb never seemed to have much trouble, slipping easily back into the skin of a lower-leveller as if putting on an old glove.

The streets they walked were unfamiliar to her, far deeper towards the core than they’d been before. By comparison the district around the Red Rancor was bright, clean and welcoming compared to the streets they traversed now, and Jaina nervously toyed with the tight braids coiled at the base of her neck, concealing her padawan plait.

“It’ll be alright, Jaina,” Zeb said somewhat stiffly, his eyes directly ahead. He’d been acting somewhat distant ever since they’d met with Quix and Petar the previous night.

“Do you want me to come in with you?” she asked.

“No,” Zeb said shortly, and although he did not pull away his gaze was fixed in the distance, the rebuff palpable. “It’s better if I go in alone - if they make you for a Jedi they won’t wait for an explanation.”

“I can take care of myself,” Jaina said somewhat defensively, annoyed by the cooling of his attitude. She put a light hand on his arm. “And we’re in this together - partners, Zeb.”

“Partners?” Zeb scoffed. “I thought you weren’t my girlfriend.”

Jaina’s grip tightened around Zeb’s forearm, stopping his gait. “Is that why you’ve been weird today?” she asked, recalling how she'd snapped at Quix when he’d called her by that title. “I didn’t mean...it was just the way he said it.”

Zeb sucked in his bottom lip and nodded, his eyes still on the streets ahead. “Alright.” Then he started walking again, and Jaina sighed with frustration, but followed. She knew now wasn’t the time for a tiff, and let it go, following Zeb deeper into the city and keeping silent.

Eventually he stopped before a dark alleyway exactly like hundreds of others they’d just passed. “They’re here,” Zeb declared, examining the outer wall of the spice den that bracketed the alley.

“How do you know?” Jaina asked, approaching cautiously, and then saw what he’d been looking at. A symbol in red was painted on the wall: the face of a kath hound with nine horns.

Zeb looked at her for the first time that night, and then wordlessly pushed up his sleeve to show her the exact same symbol tattooed on the inside of his wrist. “Stay here,” he told her, and then slipped into the darkened alleyway.

Sighing, Jaina did as he asked, but slipped her hand into her tattered street robes to grasp her concealed lightsaber - just in case.
____________________

The entrance to the lair wasn’t hard to find for someone who knew what to look for. Five years, and the Denizens still used a concealed trapdoor in the corner of the alley. Zeb shouldn’t have been surprised, since as far as he was aware he was the only member to ever leave the gang alive.

He hadn’t told Jaina that - there was so much he hadn’t told her. Zeb knew he’d been unfair and cold to her that night, but he’d been slightly deflated by her denials to Quix, and trepidatious about their mission that night. If things went bad, and he had every reason to expect they would, he couldn’t let her be caught up in it.

The catacombs just under the streets had always been there, small nests claimed by various gangs over the years and completely unknown to the local law enforcement. The nest Zeb had entered was small, a single dark corridor leading to a closed door, and only one guard. He must have been a new recruit, because he let Zeb by as soon as he’d shown him the tattoo on his arm.

Beyond the door was a small room with a smattering of tables and chairs and a few battered couches lined up against the rock walls. The roof was solid duracrete, blocking out all sound from the streets above them. There were perhaps a dozen members present, human and otherwise, some puffing on death sticks and others playing sabacc and drinking moonshine. In one corner a Neimoidian was counting out credits and fossicking through what was likely a pile of stolen merchandise.

In the other corner sat a muscular male Zeltron who seemed to be overseeing things. There were deep battle scars on his crimson-hued skin, and his arms were folded over his chest in an intimidating fashion. But Zeb's attention was drawn to the pale-skinned human female sitting next to him, almost hidden by his bulk. She was wispish and waif-like, with dirty blonde hair and the gang's symbol tattooed on her upper chest. Overall, she had the appearance of a fragile doll which would shatter when touched. Zeb recognised her immediately.

“Maribelle,” he exclaimed in disbelief, for he had not given a thought to the possibility that she'd be there.

She turned her gaze towards him, looking him up and down before laughing hollowly. “Zeb,” he said, her voice much more brittle than he remembered. "What are you doing here?"

The Zeltron turned his gaze towards him, his wide jaw clenching as his black eyes narrowed in obvious displeasure.

"Can't I drop by to see old friends?" Zeb asked, keeping his voice deliberately light. He glanced at the Zeltron, whose attention was back on Maribelle.

"Not if you valued your life," she said, her tone equally easy despite her words. "Unless you've come back to pay your blood debt."

Zeb shifted on his feet uncomfortably - he had expected that of course, although never from Maribelle. He wasn't sure why, but he had always thought perhaps she'd pulled free from the gang as well, or at least loosened her ties to them. Perhaps that had just been wishful thinking.

"I didn't expect to see you," he said truthfully, acutely aware that he was stalling and the Zeltron was getting increasingly agitated. He kept glancing at Maribelle and then Zeb, but remained fixed in his chair.

“Where else would I be?” Maribelle shrugged her slim shoulders, her voice mild but her eyes cold. “Not all of us were spirited away by wealthy benefactors. I did the best I could, which incidentally, was very well.”

Realisation dawned, and Zeb quickly look in her placement in the room, for the first time noticing the way the others seemed to defer to her. A few of them he remembered from the old days, and didn’t miss them reach for their blasters or concealed knives. But they all looked at Maribelle first, and their gazes slipped away once challenged, grips on weapons loosening. Even the Zeltron

“You’re their leader,” Zeb acknowledged, unease flooding through him.

“Still sharp, Zeb,” Maribelle smiled, showing her straight white teeth. “All that surface living has agreed with you. Right-hand man to the Chancellor and all that. I hear you’ve even got yourself in with her daughter,” Maribelle winked at him. “A fine way to ingratiate yourself.”

Zeb knew she was trying to provoke him, and so clamped down on his anger and worry about how she even knew about him and Jaina. “Jealous?” he shot back at her.

Maribelle laughed. “Still think far too highly of yourself, I see.” She looked him up and down again with something almost like affection. “Zebula Pavish - always looking up at the stars, even when there were no stars to look at. Why have you come back? The truth please - I've always known when you're lying.”

“I heard you’ve been seeking new business opportunities,” Zeb said carefully, trying to get his head around the idea of his sweet childhood friend as a merciless gang leader. Maribelle had always been involved, drawn into gang life by her older brother, but she'd never been a fully-fledged Denizen - at least not when Zeb had been around.

Maribelle laughed again, and almost seemed impressed. “Have you come to stop us?" she asked with clear amusement. "You don't even know what we're up to." She fingered a silver chain which hung around her neck, and Zeb noticed that the pendant slipped onto it was a small silver disc exactly like the one Quix had procured for them.

"I've come to warn you,” Zeb corrected her, now having no doubts that Quix’s information had been correct. “Whoever she is, this Dark Lady is dangerous."

"Your concern is touching," Maribelle said flatly. "I might have thought it genuine, if only you'd given us a thought in the past few years. I don't blame you for moving up, Zeb, I would have done the same with the chance. But don't pretend there's any care in your heart for those you abandoned."

Zeb sighed deeply. "So we are to be enemies, then," he said sadly, his fingers itching to reach for his blaster. The mood in the room had shifted, and he wasn’t sure he would be able to fight his way out if challenged. But he’d gotten what he’d come for - the gang’s location and confirmation that they were involved in the Dark Lady’s plot. “I don’t want us to be,” he added, one last-ditch effort to salvage the situation.

“But we are,” Maribelle said coldly. “We have been since the day you left us without a word. You can play the Chancellor’s pet all you like, but you forget I know things about you, Zeb," she leaned forward in her chair. "Things you wouldn't want your precious Jedi princess to know."

Zeb swallowed heavily, trying to rid the bitter taste from his mouth. "Don't threaten me, Mari," he said dangerously.

“It’s not a threat,” she told him simply, and nodded to the Zeltron, who drew a deadly-looking vibroblade from his belt as he stood. Zeb took an unconscious step back, remembering how he’d been initiated into the gang - how he’d taken the blood oath and accepted what the consequences would be if he ever left. “Xantos should never have let you go,” she lamented. “He should have chased you down - should have done to you what I did to him when I challenged his leadership, and won.”

Zeb drew his blaster and pointed it at the Zeltron and two other gang members who began to advance on him. “Stop,” he ordered, but knew that he might be able to shoot two or three of them but not all. They’d still get him, and take the flesh he’d promised them when he was thirteen years old and too young to comprehend what such an oath meant. He’d live, of course, but would be forever disfigured in a constant reminder of his betrayal. With that thought Zeb lowered his blaster slightly, wondering if he should just get it over with - wasn’t that why he’d come, and left Jaina outside? Maybe he did have a debt to pay.

From above him there was the sound of slicing rock and metal, accompanied by the unmistakable hum of a lightsaber. Before the Denizens knew what was happening a perfectly cut circle of ceiling fell crashed to the floor, and Jaina Solo jumped through the hole she’d made in the street, her violet lightsaber lighting up the room. The Denizens squinted at the bright light, and he heard one murmur “Jedi” distastefully.

“Hope you don’t mind me dropping by,” Jaina quipped with a lopsided grin.

Maribelle had not even moved from her seat, unperturbed by the intrusion. “Not at all, little Jedi princess,” she said, leaning back on her chair and folding her arms across her chest. With a flicker of her eyes she called her men back, and they retreated obediently. “Enjoy your victory - while it lasts.”

Jaina made to move forward, but Zeb was at her side in a moment, resting a calming hand on her shoulder.

“Let’s go, Jaina,” he whispered softly, his heart still beating wildly from his narrow escape. He jumped up and grabbed the rim of the hole Jaina had made in the street, hauling himself up and out, desperate to get away as quickly as possible. “Come on,” he called to her, and was grateful when she Force-jumped up to join him.

_________________________________

They walked to the Jedi Temple in silence, Zeb too ashamed to say anything and Jaina clearly giving him space. By the time they got to his front door Zeb could only say a brief goodnight and kiss Jaina on the cheek.

"Goodnight?" Jaina raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm not going anywhere - not this time, not tonight."

She walked past him into his small apartment, the same one he'd lived in since Leia had taken him in all those years ago. It was slightly larger than the regular quarters of the Jedi Temple, since those had been designed for students of the Academy, and were only temporary. Zeb's apartment was prim and neat, at first because his fifteen year old self had lived expecting the opportunity to be taken away from him, and he'd be cast out as soon as he said or did anything his patrons didn't like. It was a hard habit to break.

Jaina plonked down on his couch and drew her knees up under herself, clearly having no intention of leaving as she had done every other night she'd visited him.

Zeb moved cautiously toward her. "Won't your mother wonder where you are?"

Jaina shrugged. "I doubt she'll wonder for long." She grasped his hand and pulled him down on the couch next to her. "I'm sorry for interfering," she told him.

"You saved me," he shrugged.

"You went there knowing what they might do," Jaina's voice trembled slightly. "Please don't do that again."

"We needed the information," Zeb argued. "And that was the only way to make sure."

Jaina rested her hands over his, tracing the faded scars on his knuckles spelling out the word CHAOS in Aurebesh. Then she pushed up his sleeve, outlining his tattoo with her forefinger almost reverently. When she lifted her gaze to his, there were tears in her eyes. Overcome by her show of emotion, Zeb leaned forward, gently kissing her tears away and drawing her into his embrace. Jaina responded enthusiastically, kissing him more intimately than she ever had before. Zeb felt his hear start to beat wildly again, only this time it was from anticipation rather than fear. And yet, the events down on the lower levels had rattled him, the dark memories of his past flooding back.

"Jaina," he pulled away. "There's...nothing I want more than for you to stay, but I need to tell you things. About my old life."

"You've already told me." Jaina rested her small hand on his knee and squeezed softly.

"Not everything," Zeb insisted. "Not all the circumstances and details. Not the...extent of my crimes."

"You were just a kid, Zeb,"Jaina reasoned. "Do you think anything you could say would change how I feel?"

"I don't know," Zeb said hoarsely. "It might."

Jaina leaned forward and took his face in her hands. "I think I love you," she said, her eyes bright, and Zeb felt his heart contract in his chest. "And so you can tell me, if you want," she added. "I'll listen, but I promise that those feelings won't change."

She kissed him again, and Zeb's spirit began to soar. But he pulled away slightly and leaned his forehead against hers, giving her a chance to change her mind.

"So what do you want to tell me?" Jaina prompted him.

"I..." Zeb cupped her cheek, pure happiness chasing away any dark thoughts or memories which had threatened to choke him. "I think I love you too.".

 

Awesome update!

 

So much good stuff today! You know how much I love the flashback (*swoon*). Love seeing the sisters in action, with bonus Shada!! Avarice still makes my blood boil (is it still too late to replace him with Fey'lya??). Zeb's past continues to intrigue; that gang is a nasty bunch! He's like all of Jaina's angsty boyfriends all rolled into one, only better! And she loves him anyway.

 

Well, just SQUEEEEEEEE! already! Over the amazing flashback & then the terrific now-scenes.

Yay for Shada, Leia, and Mara on Avarice's trail and for Ghent's tracking program.

Totally thrilled over Jaina/Zeb. She is a Solo, all right. Jump right in to save someone you love and once you love someone, nothing can shake it.

 

Thanks!

Leia, Mara and Shada are an unstoppable team - Avarice doesn't stand a chance

Jaina loves drama, I think - she craves excitement just like her uncle.

Ghent always has Mara's back, and it certainly comes in handy

Absolutely! I think Daisy Ridley and John Boyega have great chemistry and I'm so ready for Rey/Finn as much as I like writing Jaina/Zeb

Tags: Gemma


Chapter 32


1 NRE

Mara awoke in an unfamiliar bed, and blinked several times to try and orient herself. The pillow was cool and soft, and as Mara nuzzled her face groggily into until she recognised the scent it held. Memories of the previous night came back to her in a wave, and she could feel a warm blush spread across her cheeks. Tentatively, Mara reached out through the Force and felt Luke’s presence beside her - in the bed, but a safe distance away. Regret flooded her, and Mara took a deep breath to calm herself before turning over to face him.

Luke was awake, the morning sun filtering into the room and lighting up the blonde in his hair. His face was impassive, but his clear blue eyes watched her, perhaps waiting for her to speak first.

Belatedly realising her nakedness, Mara drew the sheets up to cover herself, tucking her hands under her chin. “Hi.”

“Hi.” His expression was unreadable.

“So...” she began with some discomfort, anxious to extract herself from the situation. “I’m not very good at this comfort thing,” she continued awkwardly. “I came over here last night to see if I could...help. And…it occurs to me that maybe this,” she gestured between them, “wasn’t the best way to do that.”

He gave her a slight smile, and gently brushed the hair back from her forehead. “You did help.”

“Good,” she said, and bit her lip. “I’m glad.”

He smiled again, but withdrew his hand as he cast his gaze down. Mara shifted a little in the sheets, her treacherous eyes wandering of their own accord over his bare torso - she couldn’t deny that she had enjoyed their activities of the previous night. And yet it seemed like a step too far.

“So...what happens now?” Mara wasn’t sure what she wanted his answer to be. The previous night there had been no doubts that all, but in the cold light of day she wasn’t sure how she felt.

Luke sighed. “I need to go to Leia.”

It took a split-second for Mara to understand what he meant – he needed to go see his sister to share their grief, not to discuss his and Mara’s encounter. Mara suddenly felt foolish for thinking that their changed relationship would be in the forefront of his mind, rather than his sister’s sorrow.

“Of course.” She turned away as he got up out of the bed and dressed quietly. Mara sat up and pulled the sheets protectively around her, unsure of what else to say. Get up, you fool, she berated herself inwardly. Get dressed and leave. But she seemed fixed in the bed, unable to move as she watched him, regret making her stomach churn.

When he was ready to go, Luke stopped at where she still sat on the bed, and gently pressed a hand under her chin, lifting her gaze to his. She still couldn’t read his expression, and wondered if he could read hers. If he did she hoped that he would tell her, because Mara honestly had no idea what she was feeling. It was just an act of comfort, she kept telling herself. A one-off expression of sympathy and solidarity. She didn’t want it to go beyond that, and didn’t want Luke to think she wanted that, either.

Luke leaned down and kissed her gently. “Thank you,” he murmured as he straightened, and there seemed to be a finality to his words. Mara didn’t say anything, and just watched him leave, frozen in place until she heard him power up his speeder in the landing bay and drive away.

Left only with her swirling, treacherous thoughts, Mara lay back down in the bed again, awash with confusion.

______________________________________________________



29 NRE

Self-loathing was a feeling Micah Skywalker wore like a second skin. He’d figured out not too long into his first undercover mission that you had to hate yourself a tiny bit in order to willingly subject yourself to such a life - so take on a vile persona and say everything they would say, do everything they would do - immoral and reprehensible. No one truly comfortable in their own skin sought to wear another’s so recklessly, to focus so blindly on not being oneself.

It was with this thought in mind that Micah sat in the Human League bar The Master Race, his feet propped up on the table in front of him and working on a pint of Corellian ale. But the amber liquid might as well have been scumwater for all Micah enjoyed it - not when he had to pretend to be engrossed in the performance on the small stage. A pink-skinned Twi’lek wearing not much at all did her best to dance despite the leering and vulgar remarks of the other patrons, occasionally dodging empty bottles of ale. As himself Micah could have put a stop to it, overturned the table and shoved his blaster in the face of the next man who dared show such disrespect to another lifeform - but as Dax Towlin he was forced to sit idly by and let such atrocities continue.

Like most rational sentients he abhorred slavery, or anything like it called by another name. The young dancers had little choice - either they threw themselves on the mercy of those who objectified and despised them, or they starved in the streets. Mica understood this rationally, but his gut churned all the same, thinking of his grandfather who had been a slave all of his life - first to the Hutts, then the Jedi, and finally the Dark Side.

The young Twi’lek finished her dance, but Micah knew better than to applaud. It was the final humiliation for the girl, to be leered at during her performance, and ignored afterwards. It made Micah sick to his stomach, and he forced himself to take a large gulp of ale to hide his disgust.

“Hey, Dax.” A gaunt older woman with sallow skin and lank hair sat down beside him, a sour look on her face.

“Seline,” Micah acknowledged. “Gone through that spice already?”

He would have pitied her, if her soul was not as black as her large, colourless eyes with their constantly dilated pupils from too much drug use. She was Thracken’s acolyte, a violent xenophobe who owned and ran the The Master Race. Micah had dealt with her on his previous operation on Corellia, working undercover for the spicelord Trillion Hex, and she had been his entry point into the Human League.

“What’s it to you?” Seline shrugged. “Have you got some or not?”

Micah eyed her. “Have you got the creds?”

Seline smiled, showing her discoloured, spice-mellowed teeth, then withdrew two 100-credit chips and placed them on the table. Micah reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small bag of crystalised spice, which Seline reached for while smacking her lips appreciatively.

“You always knew where to get the best stuff, Dax,’ she said. “Shame you had to go to ground after Trillion went down. I thought you’d been taken out with the rest of ‘em, but ‘ere you are.”

“Yeah,” Micah agreed careful not to give away too much. He’d learned that you could always spot a lie through too many details, or someone’s eagerness to give them. “I got lucky.”

“Corsec should be after those alien scum, not meddling in the affairs of decent people like us,” Seline complained.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Micah fell into character, although he remained careful not to overplay his affected Corellian accent. “Tail-heads and alien scum will sell you spiced laced with sugar. But me? I’m an honest guy, just trying to give people what they want - and Corsec threatens sanctions to please some stupid NR policies? They’re the real criminals, I tell ya.”

Seline nodded in agreement, but her gaze was on the stage where another Twi’lek was starting her dance. “That’s one of my girls,” she said as she slapped Micah in the arm to cut off his rant. “New - ain’t she a beauty?” Seline spoke as if she was showing off a prize swoopracer.

Micah could only nod in agreement, his eyes fixed on the Twi’lek - her light blue skin, the delicate features of her face and the tattoo of a Corellian rose on her back. He was so surprised that he wasn't able to hide his expression, Seline's eager eyes catching the drop of his lower lip and the study of his eyes over the Twi'lek’s form - although she misinterpreted it.

His heart was racing, but Micah knew to leave would be suspicious, so he let Seline reach her conclusion. When the performance ended, Seline beckoned the Twi'lek over, a triumphant look on her face.

"What's your name again, tail-head?" Seline promote her.

"Lila," she answered, and as her eyes met Micah's there was a flicker of recognition Seline did not seem to notice.

"So, Dax - you like this schutta?" Seline gave him a lascivious smile, and Micah forced himself not to react to the vile insult. Lila wasn’t as successful, biting her lip and looking away. “Don’t be like that, girl,” Seline’s voice turned hard. “You know that’s all you’re good for.”

When Lila turned back, she managed a compliant smile. “Of course, madame.”

Micah let his eyes wander over Lila's curves, barely covered by her skimpy costume, feigning his best leer. "She's alright."

Seline chuckled. "Take Dax to the back room, girl," she ordered. "I'm sure you're adequate payment for the spice." Then she collected the credit chips which had been left on the table to leave no ambiguity.

Cringing inwardly, Micah let Lila take his hand and lead him towards the back of the bar, to where the private rooms were. Thracken often held League meetings back there, although Micah had only been permitted to attend one so far, not yet trusted with their secrets. Like any unexpected twist in an undercover op, he had to let this play out. He wouldn't go through with what Seline had intended, of course, but he was anxious to know what side Lila was on.

He didn't need to wait long, for as soon as the door slid closed behind them Lila dropped his hand and turned on Micah aggressively, her lekku twitching.

“What are you doing here, Dax?” she demanded. “Surely you haven’t taken up with these scum?”

“I - ” Micah wasn’t sure what he could say to preserve his cover and convince Lila that he wasn't a true League member. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “I’m just dealing to them,” he lied.

Lila's expression softened at his obvious discomfort, although he knew that he hadn’t fooled her for a second. Stepping closer, she grasped his biceps gently, peering up at his face. "Are you working with NRI again?”

Micah’s mouth fell open again in shock. “You...you know?”

“I always knew, Dax.”

Shucking out of her grasp, Micah moved further into the room and plonked himself down at a small table. He thought back to his time in Trillion Hex’s gang where Lila had worked as a drug mule, smuggling spice to the elite clientele at the opera, the symphony and Coronet’s high-end restaurant districts. Micah had been a street corner dealer, distributing to lowlifes like Seline and others in the Human Quarter, but Lila had been a far greater asset to Trillion. After all, a well-dressed and beautiful Twi’lek was expected in such establishments, and Hex had wealthy clients to supply.

Micah propped his elbow up on the table and leaned against it, looking back at Lila thoughtfully. He should have known - she spent her time around the glitterati, and must have immediately taken him for the privileged Coruscanti he was rather than the street rat he pretended to be.

“I didn’t get a chance to talk to you, after it all went down,” she said, stepping towards him cautiously, and Micah knew she was referring to the CorSec bust. “And after what happened with Trystan….” Her large eyes filled with tears. “I never got to tell you how sorry I was, Dax. I know how much you loved him.”

Micah looked away, the pain still raw almost two years later. Trystan had been a peddler like himself, and they’d been assigned adjacent districts in the Human Quarter. Micah still remembered his jet-black hair and smooth olive skin; the way he’d lean casually against a wall in a picture of youthful indifference, and yet within seconds had committed the entire street and everyone in it to memory. They would often accompany one another on drops as backup, and when done would escape the Human Quarter to the more lively Old Town, where they’d drink and dance the night away. Once the bars closed they’d find an all-night caf stop and talk for hours, and although he’d never revealed his true identity, Micah felt free to express his own thoughts and opinions, rather than those of the identity he’d created in Dax.

The NRI raid had happened sooner than Micah had anticipated, before he’d come up with an excuse to get Trystan out of there for the day. When they’d swarmed the place, Trillion had made his last stand, barricading himself inside his downtown headquarters. Then he had accused Trystan of being the NRI mole. Before Micah had been able to protest, Trystan had drawn his blaster on Trillion and fired, catching the drug king in the arm. In less than three seconds Trystan lay dead on the floor, a dozen blaster holes in his chest.

Micah’s alias had never been implicated in the operation - the surviving gang members still believing Trystan had been the traitor. The operation over, NRI sent him back to Coruscant and Corsec had given him yellow second-class bloodstripes. In the confusion of the firefight, Micah had been able to take out half the gang himself and saved the lives of dozens of Corsec officers, as well as dismantling of the cruelest drug ring on the planet.

Micah wore the bloodstripes often, although not as a source of pride as his Uncle Han wore his, but as a reminder of the price which had been paid for them. It had been around that time Micah had decided to leave NRI for his sabbatical with Karrde’s organisation, and he hadn't looked back - until now.

“I’m sorry, Dax,” Lila said softly, placing a hand on Micah’s shoulder and shaking him from his reverie. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s fine,” Micah said, running a hand over his face to pull his mind back to the task at hand. “I’m not working for NRI, but I am investigating the Human League.” He looked up at her pleadingly. “I’m not one of them, Lila, believe me.”

“I do,” Lila squeezed his shoulder slightly.

There was movement outside the door, and Lila cast it worried glance back at it, her hand tightening on his shoulder in fear. Micah could hear the crude jokes of his fellow League members about what he was meant to be doing to Lila, and fear gripped him.

Before he could come up with a plausible explanation, he heard the sound of the access code being entered. Lila reacted immediately, draping herself over Micah’s lap and pulling him into an open-mouthed kiss just as the door slid open.

“Ho hey,” a burly man called Saul leered as he stepped into the room, elbowing his companion Jola comically. “What have we here?”

Lila blushed as she pulled away from the kiss, and hid her face in Micah’s neck while whispering instructions on what he should do.

“What does it look like?” Micah said gruffly, slapping Lila lightly on the bottom for emphasis.

“The way you talk about tail-heads, Dax, didn’t think I’d see you defiling one,” Saul’s grin was predatory.

“Hey, maybe that’s the point,” Jola grinned, looking at Lila in a way that made Micah feel sick.

“Yeah, it is,” Micah said, tightening his grip around Lila. “But I didn’t pay for an audience, so kriff off.”

“Alrigh’ Dax,” Saul raised his palms in mock submission. “We’ll leave you to it - just save some for the rest of us, eh?”

“Not likely,” Micah quipped, grabbing Lila’s bottom again and squeezing in a way that made her yelp. “I’m going to wear her out.” He pulled her lips roughly to his, dying a bit more inside.

Saul and Jola cackled, patting each other on the back and making lewd jokes as they left the room, the door locking behind them.

Micah pulled away immediately. “I’m sorry,” he said, removing his hand from her body.

Lila shrugged, her arms still around his neck. “I told you to - it had to be convincing.”

“Thank you,” he breathed, cupping her cheek in his hand. “I won’t...let them do anything to you,” he promised.

Lila looked down. “I don’t see how you stop them without blowing your cover,” she reasoned. “I work for Seline, I have to do what she tells me.”

“Or who,” Micah grimaced, and then gently drew her gaze back up to meet his. “I’ll tell Seline I want you to be exclusive to me - she’ll be happy as long as I keep her supplied with spice. All we have to do is hide out here every now and then, or you can pretend you’ve moved into my apartment.”

“Your mission isn’t to save me, Dax. And I don’t need you to.”

“My name isn’t Dax.”

“I know,” Lila smiled, and Micah almost felt his heart break. “Don’t tell me what it really is - it’s safer for both of us that way.”

“It’s not safe for you here at all,” he told her, squeezing her arm gently. “My Uncle is working with Corsec, he’ll be able to find you a job there, I’m sure.”

“What did I just say?” Lila challenged him. “And besides if I left who would help you? I hear so many things from those scum - they talk as if I’m not even in the room, or as if i can’t understand what they’re saying.”

“Trystan tried to help me too,” Micah reminded her - he’d tried to kill Trillion to keep Micah’s cover. He’d known all along, and had given his life protecting Micah's secret.

Lila kissed him again, gently this time as she wound her arms around his neck. Micah surrendered to the softness of her lips that stoked a damp ended fire within him. Despite the playboy reputation he’d deliberately cultivated, it had been a long time since he'd been with someone - or rather, since he'd been with someone he had genuine feelings for. Not since Trystan.

But Lila had known Trystan; she understood what Micah was feeling like no one else could. In her sweet kiss he felt her understanding, her familiarity and her acceptance, and in her arms he felt a sense of peace returning that he had lost two years ago.

"That’s why I need to do this,” she told him firmly as she pulled away, although her arms remained tight around his neck. “Because I loved him, and he loved you. It's what he would want."

Micah nodded in acquiescence, and Lila moved in the kiss him again, but pulled away and held her at arm’s length. “Don’t do that,” he said, a bit hurt. “I won’t do that to you - it’s just for show.”

Lila traced his cheek fondly and did not speak, but in her dark eyes he saw understanding and genuine compassion. It had been so long since he’d felt another’s light touch, and Micah found he craved such a connection more than anything - a reminder of who he truly was. So when Lila kissed him again he did not stop her, allowing himself to be carried away by her gentle and genuine affection until he forgot all of his sorrows.

*******************

It was late into the evening when Chewbacca returned to Coronet House, and he made his way up to the Security Control Centre to meet Han. Most of the day had been spent out in the city, meeting with old friends and contacts in the spacer’s district to see if he could gather intelligence which had eluded NRI and Corsec.

Chewie had fond memories of the years he’d lived on Corellia with the Solo family. Although Leia had taken her duties as Governor very seriously, life had been more sedate than on Coruscant. He remembered taking Jaina often into the spacer district, since she loved sitting in the pilot’s lounges and asking them about their ships. There had been a sense of settled peace and tranquility in the family then - and Chewbacca did consider them all his family - one which had been unsettled by recent events. He hadn’t seen Luke so anxious and troubled since that terrible time after Bespin, when he’d worked himself ragged trying to maintain his duties in the Alliance, organise Han’s rescue and train himself to be a Jedi Knight.

When Luke had confided that he’d been on a strange swamp planet being taught by Jedi Master Yoda while the Millenium Falcon had been slowly flying towards Bespin, Chewie had been surprised. He’d never mentioned his old friend Yoda to Luke, or even that he’d known Jedi during the Clone Wars and had seen firsthand the clones turn on their commanders in cold blood. Perhaps he’d been too worried that the same thing would happen to Luke - becoming a Jedi would have made him an even greater target for the Empire than a Rebel. There had been a small part of him that had hoped Luke would tire of his Jedi fantasies.

But when he’d mentioned Yoda, Chewie knew that he was serious, and wouldn’t stop until he became the knight he desperately wanted to be. Chewbacca had told him everything then, and while he knew he would always see Luke as a young cub to be protected, he also knew that Luke was a man and warrior to respect. Which was why he was so concerned about his unease now, although he’d gone to Kashyyyk as Luke had asked and found nothing of consequence to report from the Wookiee tribes.

But the situation on Corellia was getting worse. The bombing had unsettled everyone, and as Chewie had walked through the Old Town he’d received strange looks from some humans. Such attitudes had been unheard of during Leia’s reign as Governor, and Chewie wondered what had happened since this new man Sekel had taken over.

Han had told him that he had not sensed any ill-will from Sekel or his bodyguard, but Chewbacca had long ago learned that humans were not as perceptive as Wookies about such things. They could not smell distaste in the air, could not see the tiny shifts in a human’s facial muscles or the darting of their eyes which revealed everything they tried to conceal. Humans were often willingly blind in such matters, for if they were not they would have to accept that others would see the same in them, and that was unacceptable. So the humans continued to lie to each other in order to lie to themselves, and that made their lives more comfortable.

Chewie wanted to assess Sekel himself, to ensure that Han had not been mistaken. He entered the control centre and saw Han chatting amiably with a few Corsec agents Chewie thought looked familiar from the old days. He rumbled in greeting.

“Chewie!” Han said gratefully in Basic, and led him back out of the room and down the corridor towards the Governor’s chambers. “You’ll won’t believe it, but Dracmas is here - you remember Dracmas? That old worry-wart from Selonia? She’s Den Mother now, if you can believe that.”

Chewbacca growled that he could. Although he’d only met Dracmas briefly during the Corellian Crisis, anyone who could put up with Han for several consecutive days had his respect. Plus, she'd soundly beaten Han in hand to hand combat, a story that when told and retold gave Chewie much joy.

“Yeah, yeah,” Han waved his hand in agreement as they were checked by the Governor’s security. “I left her and Sekel to it for a while, there’s only so much complaining a man can take. I just hope they’ve at least agreed on the colour of the sky,” he joked, and Chewie chuckled in appreciation.

However their mirth quickly dissipated as they walked into Sekel’s office and saw clear signs of a struggle. Han swore and called for the security team, but Chewbacca’s focus was on the occupants of the room.

On the floor near the door was blonde-haired human, bleeding profusely from the head. A dark-furred Selonian lay near the window, apparently unconscious. But it was the other Selonian - Dracmus - that drew Chewbacca’s particular attention. She was breathing heavily in the middle of what appeared to be a severe anxiety attack, and on the floor at her feet was the Corellian Governor Sekel with a blaster wound directly through his head.

 

The present moment

Wow, the situation on Correllia with the Governor - just got more dangerous and overtly complicated. Any rumors/suspicions are now confirmed with Han and Chewie right in the middle!

*

I like Lila a lot. She seems a sensible, courageous sort. I have a strong fondness for Twi'leks - they're (at least in ff) more than just eye candy. Fascinating back-story on Micah's undercover work.

*

Flashback time

Very interesting tone here! Mara's feeling regret/confusion, etc., a veritable jumble-tumble -- mostly because Luke is acting like an enigmatic mystery wrapped in a riddle.
Part of that is because of his preoccupation with Leia, of course, but also I would think he's not sure what to make of what happened, although I cannot believe he didn't want her more than halfway for quite the time.

 

That flash back was awesomely awkward, but still sweet.

 

Yep, the situation on Corellia is about to escalate...

I like Twi'leks as well, and Lila is certainly more than just a pretty face

Oh, he did, but of course he's just as confused as Mara and with everything else that was going on it was much easier to just withdraw and not have to deal with what happened between him and Mara. They are both floating down that river of De Nile

Thank you! I really liked writing the morning after awkwardness

 

Tags: Gemma


Chapter 33



1 NRE

Luke Skywalker walked anxiously down the hallways of the Lago Medical Centre, still wearing his grey fatigues and his hair damp from hyperspace. He’d felt Leia’s despair as soon as he’d entered the planet’s atmosphere, and wondered if he’d made the wrong decision even waiting a moment before coming to his sister’s side. And yet he’d had such tenuous control of his own grief that he’d feared it would only amplify Leia’s suffering. He’d spent most of the day in abject misery, barely holding his anger and grief in check, unable to see how anything would ever seem alright again.

Then Mara had come to him, and been everything he hadn’t known he’d needed. They’d been dancing around each other ever since Wedge’s wedding, both knowing and yet neither able to admit that something had changed between them. She’d reached out to him with such tenderness and compassion that it had been so easy to fall into her arms, let her kiss away his pain and draw his dark thoughts away. It had been a moment of glorious happiness in an otherwise bleak circumstance, and Luke hadn’t been aware of how heavy his burdens had been, how much they were crushing him, until she had lifted them away from him.

When morning came Luke’s heart was lighter and his spirit strong enough to go to his sister, but he wasn’t ready to deal with the monumental shift in his relationship with Mara. Like a coward he’d run, and yet three days in hyperspace hadn’t yielded any further answers. He cared deeply about Mara, and knew that he would treasure the memory of her embrace for the rest of his life. But he’d promised to train her, not bed her. It seemed utterly inappropriate to be involved in such a relationship with his student. Nor did he know how Mara felt, whether she cared for him in the same way, or whether she had just been kind to him. So he filed the question away for future reflection and focused his mind on the matter at hand, following Leia’s raw presence in the Force to a room at the end of the hall.

His sister lay propped up in bed wearing a white medgown, looking pale and drawn. Han sat on the bed beside her, holding her hands and looking as if he’d aged ten years.

“I want to go home, Han,” Leia was saying firmly. “Back to Varykino.”

“Sweetheart, they said you have to stay a while longer,” Han said softly, stroking the backs of her hands with his thumbs. “You’re still recovering.”

“I’ll never recover,” Leia declared with fresh tears in her eyes. “And being in this place is making things worse.”

“Leia.” Luke stepped into the room. “I’m sorry I took so long.”

Two sets of brown eyes turned towards him, and Luke felt his heart break at the twin sorrow he saw there.

“I’ll go talk to them, see what I can do.” Han kissed Leia’s forehead gently and then rose.

“Han-” Luke put a hand on his arm as he walked by. Han nodded, and Luke sensed that it was not the time to express his sympathy. His brother had given himself a task to keep occupied, and allow Luke to console Leia first. So Luke did not detain him further, and let Han leave.

Luke crossed the room in two strides and enfolded Leia in his arms. Her grip was tight, and he felt her grief through the Force, so strong and palpable that Luke was almost overwhelmed by it. The dark side lingered around them, and Luke’s heart broke with the knowledge of what his beloved sister had endured.

But he centered himself, drawing on his love for his sister, for Han, thinking of the future hope they might have instead of the present agony. Then he reached out to Leia through their twin bond, taking away her pain and showing her the light.

When Luke pulled away, tears were streaming down Leia’s face, but they were cathartic, and she held his hands tightly. He felt her pain recede slightly, on its way to scarring over although it would never disappear.

“What happened?” Luke asked softly, squeezing his sister’s hands as he sat on the bed facing her.

“They don’t know,” Leia answered in a wavering voice. “They even brought a state of the art med-droid from Theed but couldn’t give me any answers. They said...sometimes things like this just happen.”

“I’m so sorry,” Luke said, his own eyes filling with tears. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything.” Leia took a deep breath and looked towards the window. The sunlight fell upon her face, and she closed her eyes as if relishing it. “I’m glad you’re here now.” Then her face became pinched as unpleasant thoughts again descended. “I lost control, Luke. I touched the dark side.”

“I know.”

Leia turned back to him and opened her eyes. “It was as if I forgot myself - like I became this creature of anger and sorrow, seeking retribution even though I knew there was none to be had.”

“But you pulled yourself back,” Luke reminded her.

“I can still feel it,” Leia said with some distress. “In the corner of my mind - it’s always there. Now I know how he felt, all the time.”

“Who?”

“Vader,” she told him, as if it was obvious. “I know now the reason why I hated him so much, other than for the things he did. It’s because I’m just like him...”

“Leia…”

“You told me from everything you’ve discovered, that the main reason he turned to the dark side was to try and stop our mother dying - and us.”

Luke nodded very slowly. Obi-Wan’s journals had confirmed the prophetic dreams Anakin had been having prior to his fall. It had been Yoda and Obi-Wan’s belief that Palpatine had used Anakin’s fears against him, and his dreams had become a self-fulfilling prophesy.

“I just keep thinking if I’d had a choice,” Leia continued, her voice trembling. “If someone had told me that there was a way to stop Jacen from dying, if there was even the slightest hope…”

“No, Leia, don’t think that.” Luke cupped her cheek and forced her gaze up to meet his. “You’re so strong, and I know you will get through this.”

But Leia seemed far away and a deep melancholy settled around her. “I think I understand him a little better now,” she said sadly. “And I hate myself for that.”

"Leia..."

But she waved her hand, silencing Luke as she composed herself. "They took him from me," she said sadly. "But I still have this." She reached around her neck and undid the clasp of her necklace before handing it to him. Luke held the pendant for a few moments in the palm of his hand; a locket with a casing of Alderaanian Opal.

"Han gave you this months ago," Luke muttered, but then opened up the locket itself. Inside was a lock of dark brown hair, soft and downy. "Oh Leia..."

"It's all I have left," she told him as fresh tears spilled from her eyes.
____________________

Han was arguing with the nurse at the front desk when Luke approached.

“Look, lady, I don’t care about your regulations, and I care even less about your opinion,” Han said angrily, pounding his index finger against the desk for emphasis. “I’m taking my wife home. That is what is happening.”

“Yes, sir,” the nurse responded somewhat petulantly, but scurried away to make the arrangements. Han sighed and leaned against the counter, running a hand over his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Han.” Luke put a hand on his friend’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m glad you’re here, Luke,” he said softly, now that they were alone the gruff facade falling away. “They’ve had her sedated most of the time.” Han’s voice was pained. “Afraid she’d…”

“She touched the dark side here,” Luke acknowledged. He could still taste the remnants in the air. “She shouldn’t stay.”

Han shifted listlessly to the waiting room chairs and sank down onto one. “If you dare say this was the will of the Force-”

“I wouldn’t,” Luke assured him, settling down onto the chair next to Han.

“I know, kid,” Han said, and his gruffness fell away. “I just…” He sniffed and pursed his lips as if holding back tears. “I thought I was going to lose her, as well. I can’t…” Han put his head in his hands, and his shoulders began to shake.

Luke had never seen Han cry before. Even in his lowest moments, Han had always been in control of himself, and yet it seemed this tragedy had cracked the final layers around his heart that Luke had never seen beyond. He put an arm around Han, embracing him through his sorrow and wondering how any of them would ever find happiness again.


________________________________________________


29 NRE

Han Solo tugged at the collar of his uniform and then decided that desperate times called for desperate measures, so just unbuttoned the damn thing. He leaned against the wall of one of Coronet House’s meeting rooms which had been repurposed, it seemed, as an interrogation cell.

Han had to admit, it looked bad. Governor Sekel was dead, and his bodyguard Manel Wain had been taken to the medcentre to treat his head injury, screaming all the while that Dracmus and her bodyguard had done it. Colione herself had also been taken to the medcentre, but was still unconscious and unable to tell them anything. He’d asked Chewie to accompany her to make sure no one said anything about the attack, or worse, tried to interfere with Colione’s treatment.

Han had then ordered Coronet House to go into lockdown, and had immediately called for the Deputy-Governor Olayne, since he had no direct jurisdiction and knew the investigation must be handled through the correct channels.

Han knew her vaguely - she’d been a Corsec Commander when Leia had been Governor. Olayne was by the book, and had a reputation as being somewhat cold-hearted, yet capable. Something she proved by taking charge of the situation as soon as she arrived, hustling Dracmus into the meeting room for questioning. The Selonian, however, was clearly confused and distraught, still in the midst of an panic attack that showed no signs of abating.

Fetching her a glass of water, Han patted her lightly on the shoulder and waited for her to calm down. Olayne stood to attention with her hands clasped behind her back, clearly irritated by the time it was taking.

“What happened, Honoured Dracmus?” Han asked softly when he breathing had returned to a less alarming rate.

“I...did not see,” Dracmus said somewhat pitifully. “Every time I would turn, they would disappear - they were so quick, and I was so confused - they attacked Colione, and then the blonde one. Then the next thing I remember Sekel was dead and I was alone.”

“Who?” Olayne demanded. “Who disappeared?”

“As I said to you, I did not see!” Dracmus wailed.

“How convenient” Olayne said, her words dripping with derision. Han shot her a hard look, but the woman was unperturbed.

Dracmus looked up at Olayne her mouth agape. “Surely you cannot be thinking I had anything to do with this.”

“We know that there has been severe tension between you and Governor Sekel for some time,” Olayne said, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet. “The conflict between Selonia and Corellia was the primary season General Solo was invited here to mediate in the first place.”

‘And then your Human League orchestrated a terror attack to disrupt those negotiations!” Dracmus exclaimed.

“Yes,” Olayne’s eyes gleamed. “And you came to Corellia personally to meet with Sekel and lodge a protest regarding the release of Sal-Solo. Motive, and opportunity.”

“How can you say such things?” Dracmus asked, deeply and visibly upset.

“What’s more,” Olayne continued, “Manel Wain claims that he was attacked by your bodyguard, and the evidence demonstrates it was her blaster that was used to shoot Sekel. Security has not found any unauthorised personnel inside the building to support your claims to the contrary.”

“They disappeared!” Dracmus said, wringing her claws in despair.

“The man’s had a head injury,” Han said reasonably. “It is possible that he has confused Dracmus’ bodyguard with someone else.”

“Yes,” Dracmus nodded her head. “The very same who attacked us!”

“Even if that is true, Dracmus,” Olayne said, deliberately leaving off the honorific and making the Selonian wince. “I cannot allow you to leave Corellia until the facts have been determined.”

“But...Honoured Solo, you cannot be agreeing to this?” Dracmus gave him a look of utter betrayal.

“I…” Han cursed inwardly - this was why he hated politics. “I believe you Honoured Dracmus,” he said, ignoring Olayne’s snort of disagreement. “But we have to sort this out, and I think it’s best if you stay here for the time being.”

“Am I being imprisoned?” Dracmus demanded.

Han told her an emphatic no, just as Olayne said “yes.” Han turned to the Deputy Governor with surprise. “You can’t detain her,’ he argued. “She’s Den Mother of Selonia - you don’t have the authority.”

“I can do whatever I wish,” Olayne said, puffing out her chest and raising herself to her full height. “Clan Leader or no, she is a suspect in the assassination of Corellia’s Head of State. She’s best kept in the detention cells here at Coronet House, for her own protection as much as anything else.

“You talk like she’s already been found guilty,” Han argued.

Olayne looked at him coolly. “That is for the courts to decide. And you, General Solo, have no standing in this matter. The New Republic has no cause to meddle in Corellian affairs without invitation.” Then she turned on one heel and stalked out of the room.

Dracmus was rocking back and forth on her chair, whining pitifully. Han rested a soft hand on her shoulder, aghast at the turn of events.

“It will be alright, Honoured Dracmus,” he reassured her. “Trust me.”

_______________

Micah sat at the bar of The Master Race, trying to look nonchalant as he sipped his ale. Luckily there was a mirror mounted along the back wall, and he could watch the meeting that was being carried out at Thrackan’s usual table with relative ease, using the Force to enhance his hearing. Lila was working behind the bar, and he saw that she was casually glancing over as she idly wiped down the countertop. He was grateful to have her as an ally, and knew that they’d be able to compare notes later.

Two young Zabrak were seated across from Thrackan although he seemed to sneer at their presence, for their youth as well as their race. None of the other League members would go near them, seated a safe distance away and glaring at the pair with malice.

It had taken him a few moments, but Micah now recognised the Zabrak as the very same who’d escaped from he and Syal at NRI headquarters. He’d searched the recesses of his memory for their names - Whit was the boy, he remembered making a joke about it. And the girl...Toula, he recalled after some contemplation They had given no other names, but Micah was certain it was them. It made a strange kind of sense, they were bound to resurface eventually, although Micah saw no sign of the datapad they’d stolen from Syal.

Shada had recently commed him with intelligence from his mother that the Zabrak seemed to be working for a Sith Dark Lady, and that they’d been recruiting on Coruscant, handing out some kind of silver disc. It seemed they were recruiting Thrackan’s band as well, Micah mused, although it seemed like an odd partnership.

“Is is done,” Toula was telling Thrackan, and it was clear from the expression on her face that his distaste for her was returned at him tenfold. “As our Lady promised.”

“We’ve heard nothing on the holonet,” Thrackan said, cocking his head to the side. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“What you know does not concern me,” Toula responded shortly. “You will see soon enough that we have delivered on our mistresses’ promise.” She reached into the pocket of her black coat and set a small disc on the table. “You can expect to hear from her when she needs the favour returned.”

Thrackan took the disc and examined it closely, as if perhaps expecting a trick. But after a few moments he shrugged and stowed it in the breast pocket of his tunic. “So where are you off to now young ones?” he asked, and Micah turned his head slightly so he could hear better.

“That does not concern you,” Toula said, and beside her Whit huffed in clear irritation.

Thrackan examined his fingernails with clear artifice. “Heard you two were gathering yourselves an army of sorts.”

Whit glowered. “Who told you that?”

Thrackan shrugged. “I have friends on Bastion.”

Bastion? Micah furrowed his brow in confusion - it was an minor planet, although Micah was not surprised that Thrackan would have friends there. Vlim Disra, otherwise known as The Imperial, reigned over Bastion as if it was still the Empire, although technically it was a Republic world. It was last haven for Imperial sympathisers, and he supposed a logical choice for a Sith looking for allies.

“Tell me what the Dark Lady intends,” Thracken asked. “I may be able to help.”

Toula was unmoved, and she glanced towards Lila at the bar with obvious distaste. Not for Lila herself, it seemed, but for her situation. Guilt flooded through Micah again, and he wished he’d been more persuasive in getting Lila to leave.

“You just play your part here,” Toula told Thrackan coldly as she stood. Micah turned back to the bar to hide his face, handing his empty glass over to Lila as pretext for doing so. She refilled at and handed it back, and Micah busied himself in taking a large gulp. He did not dare look at the Zabrak as they left the establishment in case they recognised him, nor did he want to appear too interested in engaging Thrackan as some of the other League members were doing.

“We’re going to have to wash down those chairs,” Saul complained, and Thrackan laughed.

“Wash?” he said. “No, no, we have to burn them. Zabrak scum.”

“Why’d you let them in, boss?” Seline asked. “And actin’ so high and mighty, too, as if they weren’t horned devils.”

Micah chanced a glance back over at Thrackan, and saw him wave a dismissive hand. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend, Seline,” he said airily. “By tonight everyone will know that a dirty Selonian killed our dear Governor, giving credence to all of our warnings. Within a few months we’ll have good public opinion back - what’s more they’ll be clamouring for our protection.”

“And then?” Seline asked eagerly.

Thrackan smiled secretively. “And then, we give them what they want.”

________


Han was in a deep if not restful sleep when he was awakened by the intrusive buzzing of his comm, and it took several swipes at the desk before he finally hit on the answer button.

“This better be an emergency,” he growled - he’d been up half the night already arguing with Olayne.

“I assure you it is, General Solo,” a frantic voice came through the comm. “Please come to the command centre immediately.”

The call disconnected abruptly, and Han swore but hauled himself out of bed, quickly getting dressed and making his way downstairs to the command centre. He wished Chewie was there to back him up, but the Wookiee had insisted on going back out into the city. Olayne had made a statement confirming Sekel’s death and asking for calm, dispatching Corsec out into the streets to quell any trouble. Chewie had accompanied them, knowing that people were far less likely to try and start a riot with a Wookiee around.

Han strode into the command centre, still rubbing his eyes blearily. “What’s all this about?” he demanded as he was met by Olayne, her face stony.

“The Selonian has escaped,” she told him.

“What?” Han was incredulous.

“That bodyguard of hers got out the medcentre somehow,” Olayne told him, leaning over the shoulder of a tech and examining a screen displaying the city grid. “Broke her out and they’ve fled.” She looked up and pierced Han with a steely glare. “If she’d been down in the detention cells rather than in guest quarters we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Han sighed, since he’d been the one to convince Olayne to keep Dracmus under house arrest rather than in proper detention.

“Deputy,” the tech said urgently and pointed to the screen. “Look, a Selonian coneship has just taken off from spaceport 52.”

“Stop them,” Olayne ordered.

“Haven’t the spaceports been shut down?” Han queried, looking over towards the techs who manned the aerial towers.

“Yes, General Solo,” a young tech answered. “But they’ve circumvented the security net somehow.”

“They’ve had help from their Selonian sisters here, no doubt,” Olayne all but growled. For the first time, Han realised that every tech in the room was human, a confronting difference from the staff he remembered. What kind of government had Sekel been running?

He walked over to the communications section and nudged a tech in the shoulder. “Get me Commander Allien from the Nonsense on the comm,” he ordered. It took a few minutes to connect, Han glaring at Olayne the entire time.

“General Solo?” Allien’s crisp voice flowed through the speakers.

“We’ve got a situation down here,” Han told her brusquely. “Governor Sekel’s been assassinated, and Den Mother Dracmus and her bodyguard are witnesses-”

“Murderers more like,” a security officer next to Olayne muttered, and Han shot her a deadly look.

“They’d left the planet in a coneship,” Han addressed Allien. “Probably headed towards Selonia. I need to you head them off and return them to Corellia.”

“Understood, sir,” Allien responded. “I’m scrambling fighters now. Commander Antilles is with them.”

“Good,” Han nodded. “Have her take point, and patch her through to me.”

__________

It was good to be in an X-Wing again, not just on maneuvers or a joy flight, but back in the thick of things. Syal’s fighter screamed through space, Corellia falling further behind her as she followed the Selonian coneship.

“I see them, General Solo,” Syal said into her comm, and her droid R7 beeped from her chute behind the cockpit.

“Good, hold course,” Han ordered. “You’ll be able to intercept them before they get to Selonia.”

“They’re not headed to Selonia,” Syal told him as she tracked their intended course and scanned the coneship’s systems. “They’re gearing up to go into hyperspace.”

“Shavit. I thought coneships weren't equipped with hyperdrive?"

"Well this one is," Syal told him, looking at her scanner. "Looks like they've sacrificed shields to power it."

"If they escape we’ll never get her to come back,” Han said anxiously. “Can you disable the ship?”

Syal leaned into her controls, pushing the X-Wing’s speed to capacity and drawing into targeting range. “Unknown,” she answered, looking at the technical readouts R7 had put on her screen.

“We’re on your Six, Rogue Eight,” the leader of Green Squadron’s voice came through the comm, and Syal saw that seven X-Wings were in formation not far behind, ready to back her play. “Awaiting further orders.”

“Hold formation for now,” Syal told him, turning on her targeting computer and adjusting her sights. The coneship was there, right in the centre, derelict and slower than her X-Wing but even the slowest ship in the galaxy was lost when they jumped to hyperspace.

"I have a shot, General Solo." Syal hovered, keeping the coneship in her weapon sights. "Should I proceed?"

“Can you disable rather than destroy the ship?” Han asked again, his voice pained.

Her R7 unit beeped a reply, and Syal read the message on her translator. “No,” she relayed. “They have no shields and R7 isn’t certain that they would stand even a single blast, and from the design of the ship I can’t take out any of their engines without also destroying the reactor. Probability of elimination is thirty percent.”

She heard Han growl through the comm, and knew it was a tough call. But it wasn’t hers to make, and Syal kept the ship in her sights. “I can fire on your order, General. It has to be quick, they’ll make the jump to hyperspace soon.”

There was chatter in the background which Syal couldn’t make out, although it seemed like someone in the room was urging Han to order the shot. He swore and gave them a few choice words in response, reminding whoever it was that he was still in charge of Republic vessels.

"Han?" Syal asked, watching the ship move to the outskirts of the range on her targeting computer. "It's now or never! Should I fire?"

There was a long, tense moment, and Syal’s finger nudged the trigger, ready to fire as soon as Han gave the order. “Should I fire?” she repeated desperately.

"No," came Han's strangled voice through the comm. "Hold your fire."

Syal turned off her targeting computer and sighed, watching the Selonian ship disappear into hyperspace. Her gut told her that Han had made the right choice, that even low chances of destroying the Den Mother’s ship was too much of a risk. It would likely cause trouble back on Corellia once it got out that Han had given up the chance to apprehend the Governor’s likely killer, but Syal knew that it would be much worse if they'd killed a sovereign, even if she was fleeing custody.

“Green Leader, take your squad home,” she instructed.

“Copy, Rogue Eight.”

Syal turned her ship around, but instead of heading back to the Star Destroyer she steered it towards Corellia. “General Solo, permission to come planetside?”

“Get here as soon as you can, Syal,” Han said tiredly. “I hope you’re not expecting to sleep tonight.”

Syal sighed, knowing just how fraught the Corellian situation had become, and how easily it could descend into a full-blown crisis. “Uncle Han, I’m not expecting to sleep for the next week.”

 

Oh, the flashback! I understand Luke's putting his "now what's next" with Mara to the side for the immediate needs. So incredibly poignant with H/L!!!!! As for the present time stuff, so riveting and fraught with intrigue! I watch too many crime dramas but Olayne is as likely to be behind the attack on Sekel for whatever reasons. Like Sekel isn't running things right and I think I can.

 

I'll say it again - it's important, and excellent, that you featured Leia experiencing a serious brush with the Dark Side, because both she and Luke carried major potential for darkness within them. Leia is always seen as this fierce, amazing, and intimidating character - as well she is, obviously - but the "Dark Side focus" still often tends to stay stuck on Luke. It's also an ugly but very revealing way for her to cultivate empathy for her human disaster of a father. I'm really really glad you included this in the subplot.

 

Thank you! There is some definite corruption going on in the Corellian government... As for Luke, he's between a rock and a hard place, and its easier to internalise everything rather than actually dealing with it - his sister's health and wellbeing must come first!

Thanks! Leia's brush with the dark side was very important for me to include, because in a lot of ways she is a great deal like Anakin, although that is so hard for her to acknowledge and accept - Luke always wanted to her come to a better place of understanding about their father, but not like this. And yet perhaps it's the only way she can understand him - in feeling the pull of the dark side herself in a similar situation - Leia may be less outwardly emotional than Luke, but she does have the same fierce, protective love which she has to learn to control.


A/N: Now, this fic is on the home stretch - eight chapters to go, so I will probably up the posting schedule to twice a week. I'm anxious to get it all done and dusted so I can start working on the sequel!

In the meantime, here are the final "cast" pics for recently introduced characters:

 

@Gemma

Chapter 34



2 NRE

Luke held out his lightsaber, his arm fully extended and the green blade directed towards the floor. Mara stood a few feet away, unlit saber in hand.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

Mara sighed and thumbed on her saber, the blue blade shimmering to life. She adjusted her stance and brought the blade up, holding the hilt with both hands and keeping her thumb on the switch.

“Remember,” he reminded her. “To correctly pass the blade you have to shut it down before impact and then reignite almost instantly.”

“I understand the concept, Luke,” Mara edging forward into position. “It’s the execution I need to get right.”

Luke smiled to himself. “A year ago those words would have meant something entirely different.”

“Yours was the execution I never did get right, did I?” Mara laughed, and then almost immediately sobered. “We’ve come a long way since then.”

“We have,” he agreed. For a moment their eyes met, and the mood shifted from playful and light to something else - something neither of them were ready for. Luke cleared his throat and looked away.

He and Mara had never spoken of the night they spent together three months earlier. When he’d come back from Naboo they’d resumed their training as if nothing had happened, and Luke was somewhat relieved. No matter how he felt, any increased intimacy between them was fraught with danger.

How would that look, he had asked himself, the galaxy’s lone Jedi bedding his only student? And it was not just that – Mara had reached out to him in comfort and solidarity, and he had recklessly sought distraction. His pain had been too great to bear alone, and Mara had taken it from him, if only for one night. He had felt her draw his sorrow out of him, a truly selfless act which touched his heart deeply. But was it something more? Luke didn’t know, and he was too afraid to ask Mara how she felt, for risk of ruining what they did have.

“Skywalker?” Mara raised an eyebrow at him, once again composed and aloof. The moment had passed, quickly enough that Luke wasn’t even sure it had happened.

He refocused his attention, locking his arm in place and bracing it. “Sorry, I’m ready.”

Mara struck quickly, arching her sabre up in the attack stance of Form V and then bringing it forcefully down onto Luke’s blade. Her movements were precise, thumbing off the blade just before the impact point, and then reactivating immediately afterwards, having the effect of her blade “passing though” his. It was an advanced lightsaber technique called trakata he’d learnt from the holocron of Jedi battlemaster Skarch Vaunk. Mara had proved herself proficient in the basic techniques and styles of lightsaber combat, and he was eager to explore new possibilities with her.

“Well done,” Luke said approvingly, but he did not deactivate his blade. “Let’s see if you can do the same in a battle situation.” He held his saber hilt with both hands, pivoting slightly on his feet and moving into the striking stance. If done correctly, Mara’s pass through would throw Luke off balance as he put his weight into the strike, expecting to meet resistance. Then she could reactivate her blade and counter-attack during his confusion.

Luke kept his eyes focused on Mara as he swung - Master Yoda had drilled the importance of eye contact into him quite literally. Sometimes Luke could still feel Yoda’s gimer stick hitting him between the eyes when his gaze had wandered self-consciously to the blade. With time had come confidence, however, and now he knew exactly where his blade was at all times.

Luke put his full weight behind the blow, but at the last moment Mara faltered, her eyes flickering towards his blade to judge the correct moment to deactivate her own. But she was too late, and there was a resounding crack of impact.

“Your eyes can deceive you,” Luke said, remembering the words Obi-Wan had once spoken to him as he stepped back and deactivated his saber. “Always look at your opponent,” he added. “And trust yourself.”

“That was the easy thing about being an assassin,” Mara said ruefully as she deactivated her saber and clipped it to her belt. “You never had to look anyone in the eye.” Then she rolled her gaze upward. “And yes, before you say so, I know that easier isn’t better.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Luke protested with a smile.

“Sure.”

Before Luke could retort he felt a familiar presence on the fringes of his consciousness, and turned to the entrance of the training room. His sister stood under the large archway, and Luke wondered how long she’d been there. Since her ordeal on Naboo, Leia had become very adept at hiding her presence and feelings in the Force. Luke had not pressed the issue, but he was worried about her - Mon Mothma had given her several months bereavement leave, much of which she and Han had spent on Naboo.

“Leia,” Luke greeted her, and enfolded her into his arms as she approached. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?”

Leia pulled back and gave him a smile. “I’m here to become a Jedi,” she told him. “I promised you I would.”

Luke was speechless for a few moments, blinking stupidly at her. He looked over at Mara, who somehow didn’t seem surprised.

“I know it seems sudden,” Leia told them, a crack appearing in her outward composure. “But I’ve given it a great deal of thought, and discussed it with Han. This isn’t a whim or a flight of fancy. This is what I want.”

He didn’t doubt her sincerity or resolve, and yet Luke was still uneasy. “But what about your position?” he asked. “Your Ministry?”

“I’ve resigned.”

He shared another glance with Mara, and from the almost imperceptible flicker of her eyebrows he could tell she was not about to get involved. When Luke turned back to Leia, he could see her disquiet at his reaction.

“Leia,” he told her. “There’s nothing more that I want than for you to embrace your Jedi potential. But you have to be sure.”

“What makes you think that I’m not?” she asked, the barest hint of a scowl flickering in her face.

Luke sighed, rubbing the side of his face anxiously. “I just...I remember the moment I decided to become a Jedi,” he told her. “I wanted to become like the father I had never known but always loved. I wanted to impress the old Master who had such faith in me. I wanted to avenge my aunt and uncle, and punish the Empire for their senseless deaths.”

“What are you saying?” she challenged him. “That you wouldn’t make the same choice again?”

“I would,” he told her seriously. “It was the right one, but I made it for the wrong reasons.”

“What does it matter what your reasons were?” Leia asked, her voice faltering.

“Intent matters,” he said softly, taking her hands in his. “Training to become a Jedi shouldn’t be an escape - it took me a long time to realise that, and it cast a shadow over my early training - one that didn’t disappear until Endor.”

Leia was quiet for a long time, dropping her hands from his grip and stepping back. Her gaze was downcast as she considered his words, her arms resting defiantly on her hips. When she looked up at him, steely determination burned in her deep brown eyes.

“I’m going to become a Jedi, Luke,” she said forcefully as she stared him down. “Either you can teach me, or I’ll take your holocrons and learn myself.”

Luke didn’t doubt her words, and trusted his sister implicitly. Wasn’t it exactly what he’d wanted, to share with Leia their Jedi heritage? And yet he’d committed to Mara as his apprentice, and he’d been adamant about following the structure of one-on-one training. On the other hand, he’d also wanted to have a flexible approach to the new order to prevent making the same close-minded mistakes of the old.

“Would you object, Mara?” he asked quietly. “To me training both of you at the same time?” Luke knew he could not deny his sister her request, and wasn’t quite sure what he would do if Mara withheld her consent. Luckily when he looked over at her, Mara gave a small shrug of her shoulders.

“No,” she said. “Of course not.”

Leia smiled gratefully, and yet Luke sensed an unease between the two women - one he had not felt between them before. But he dismissed it. If it became an issue, they would work it out through training. A new joy filled him at the thought of the days ahead. After so much heartache, surely Leia’s determination to become a Jedi only boded well for the future.

“Well,” he grinned, putting his arms around his sister and hugging her tightly. “Let’s get started.”


__________________________________________________________


29 NRE

A storm was brewing in the distance, a light smattering of rain rippling the lake surrounding the Varykino villa on Naboo. It was the first wave of the storm, the mountains beyond the lake misty with a torrent that would soon sweep across the waters towards where Fin Delrond was standing on the villa’s open balcony.

He found the place deeply unsettling. It was the ancestral home of the Naberries, and had been adopted by the Skywalkers, infected with the light side through years of family gatherings and celebrations. The villa was luxurious with every want or need catered to - the linens in the bedrooms fresh even though no one was there to occupy them, the gleaming marble floors polished and in every aspect a home awaiting the return of its family. Fin felt the bile rise up in his throat - what right did the Skywalkers have to such splendor when Fin had never even seen his birthright on Coruscant - the Delrond estate that in all likelihood had been destroyed to eliminate all traces of their once great aristocratic House.

He remembered little of his early years on Dathomir under the tutelage of his father and the Nightsisters, who’d taught him their strange magic. Fin could recall only patches of those powerful spells, his young mind unable to retain them all. What he did remember was the desperate flight away from the planet one day, and ever since then Fin and his father had been nomads, drifting from star to star hunting for artifacts Sith and Jedi alike, and waiting for their chance to strike.

Now was that time, Fin told himself as a bolt of lightening cut through the darkened clouds in the distance with a powerful crack. He would be the storm which would would rain down death and decimate the Skywalker line.

His father approached and joined Fin to watch the storm grow closer. “Are you ready, my son?”

Fin nodded. “The caretaker?”

“Taken care of,” Svel smiled.

"This place reeks of Skywalker," Fin said distastefully, turning back towards the dark sky, light drops of rain falling onto his cheeks. He could feel their presence here, seeping from the walls as Fin had traced his hands idly over them; glimpses of the history they contained flashing before his eyes.

Anakin Skywalker had once stood where Fin did now, his mind troubled by the dragon which had already taken root in his heart. He saw the dark-haired woman, her hair unbound and her expression soft, her presence enough to calm the fire that burned in the dragon’s belly. They had been married here, at Varykino, and when Fin had held Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber he’d been assaulted with images of sickening happiness - soft teasing words and light laughs and sweet, playful kisses.

He saw through time and across years, to when the dragon’s children had discovered Varykino for themselves, exploring every inch of the estate, combing through records in the library, joint meditation on the terrace and the playing games in the gardens. He saw the laughter of children, of dark-haired relatives from every corner of the planet visiting their Skywalker and Solo kin, of late nights and lazy afternoons, rambunctious conversation in the dining hall and quiet relaxation on the beach.

The only dark vision was of Organa-Solo weeping, her belly still distended from childbirth. She had lost a child sometime in the past, a great sorrow which had weighed down her otherwise pristine glimmer in the Force. But other than that Varykino radiated light, the power of the Force strong within its walls.

"Let us depart," Svel decreed, interrupting Fin’s musing and clasping his shoulder. “If you are ready?”

Fin dwelled on the stolen memories for a moment longer, relishing in their imminent defilement before following his father down to the shoreline where their small boat waited. They drifted along the surface of the water for a few minutes until they were a safe distance away, and always Fin’s eyes were locked on the villa. The rain had reached the lake, lashing down on them furiously but he did not mind a storm. He was drawn to its unpredictability and power, so ignored the rain plastering the hair to his face and dampening his black robes.

"Fin?"

Turning his gaze back to his father, Fin nodded and held out his hand. Svel smile with pride and placed a small detonator in his open palm. His eyes drifting back one final time to the lake retreat, Fin savoured one last look before pressing the detonation button, sending a signal to the charges and pulse bombs they had placed within its foundations.

Explosions rocked Varykino, starting from the heart of the villa and making the land itself shake with the force of the blasts. The stony foundations broke apart and the surrounding trees caught alight, the greenery soon consumed by angry red flames which quickly spread up through the forest which blanketed the mountain above.

Then the twin domes of the villa combusted with the secondary charges, debris shooting up into the air and falling into the lake, rippling the water. But by the time the waves reached their boat the waves were only powerful enough to rock the hull slightly. Still, in his excitement Fin gripped the side of the boat with one hand to steady himself - this was the beginning of the end, and he was going to enjoy every minute of it.

On land what was left of the villa was soon engulfed in flames, a black acrid smoke rising into the air as the stony walls crumbled and fell.


__________________________

It was close to midnight on Corellia before Micah was able to break away from the celebrations at The Master Race. Deputy Governor Olayne’s speech confirming the death of Sekel the previous day had been broadcast on the holonet, and Thracken had insisted they replay it over and over again. The escape of the Selonian Dracmus had also been confirmed that morning, and although Olayne had urged for calm there had been a clear accusation behind her words directed at the Selonian community in Coronet City.

As Micah walked briskly through the dark streets of the Human Quarter he could already see mobs forming, and knew that there would be a brawl in the Old Town that night. But there was nothing Micah could do about that, and had more urgent business to attend to. Between himself and Lila they’d pretty much figured it out - once drunk the Human League lackies were only too eager to spill what had been going on in those leadership meetings.

He’d left Lila at the bar, forcing himself to believe her assurances that she could take care of herself. The League had seemed to accept the idea that he’d taken a liking to her, and he’d given Seline some extra spice for exclusivity - as much as that made Micah’s stomach roil. But he couldn’t have brought her with him, because as much as he trusted her they both knew it was better if she didn’t know the truth about his identity.

Micah ducked into a narrow alley between a bakery and cafe, both closed for the night so thankfully empty. He pulled out the comm Han had given him and typed in the code, sticking in an earpiece so that their conversation wouldn’t be broadcast.

“Micah,” his Uncle’s strained voice flowed into his ear. “Are you alright?”

“Yes - is this line secure?” Micah asked hoarsely, his throat dry from the shouting and revelling he’d had to partake in earlier that day.

“Of course,” Han answered. “But to be honest kid, I’ve kinda got my hands full at the moment.”

“This is important,” Micah told him. “You have to get a message back to Coruscant, there’s going to be an attack.”

“What?” He could tell that he’d gotten Han’s attention. “When?”

“I don’t know,” Micah said desperately. “Soon. Look, I don’t have much time. All I know is that the Human League was behind Sekel’s assassination, and they’re counting on the Republic’s attention being elsewhere. There’s ships headed to Coruscant from Bastion.” That was the tidbit Lila had been able to find out from Thracken himself - he’d been in contact with Vlim Disra who had apparently boasted about the surprise they were going to give the capital.

“They’d never get past the fleet,” Han argued. “Coruscant’s too secure.”

“Trust me,” Micah said, then abruptly shut off the comm as he heard two people walk by the alley. He couldn’t be away too long, otherwise it would raise suspicions and so decided not to comm Han back. That was everything he knew, after all. Micah’s thoughts turned to his mother and younger sister at the Jedi Temple, a fierce pang in his heart that he hadn’t been able to find out more, and earlier.

He just hoped Han could get the message to Coruscant in time.

_____________________

“So, what are they?” Mara looked at the small silver disc which hovered in the centre of the Temple analysis chamber. She looked over at Shada D’ukal and Ghent, their faces blue from the reflected light of the analysis equipment.

“It’s advanced, whatever it is,” Ghent told her, his eyebrows creased together as he studied the technical readout.

Mara gave him a scornful look. “You’re Director of New Republic Intelligence, and your best assessment is advanced?”

Ghent gave her a look. “You haven’t given me much time to work with it, Mara. Slicing isn’t all running sims and eating sweets.”

Shada smirked. “Says the man who always requests a kilo of fizz bangs with the regular NRI shipments.”

“I can sense the dark side,” Mara interrupted, not wanting them to be distracted. “Other than that it just look like an ordinary datadisc.” Mara pursed her lips in frustration. She’d never been particularly attuned to mechanical objects, not like Luke was. “That’s why I asked you both to take a look.” She’d heard about Sith imbuing objects with dark power, but it didn’t feel strong, enough for that. It was rather like a remnant - likely from the Dark Lady if she was the one who’d instructed her Zabrak apprentices to hand them out to their allies.

“I’ve checked with Karrde,” Shada spoke up, turning immediately back to topic. “We ran across something similar a few years ago, where communication devices were disguised to look like datadiscs, but your equipment should be able to sense that.”

“Jaina seemed to think that’s what they were for,” Mara told her. “Their contact who stole the thing said the Dark Lady was going to communicate with her followers somehow.”

“Well, with my expertise we might be able to find out,” Ghent said, typing one-handed into his personal datapad that was linked via cable to the Jedi database. “It could be that their encryption is just too advanced for the normal scanner, but I know a few tricks. Although,” he glanced at his screen and frowned, “there does seem to be abnormally high data readings - there’s some complex software here, it might take me a while to slice it.”

“I’ve got nothing but time,” Shada said dryly, and Mara shrugged in return. “While I’m here I’ll be able to to follow up about the Academy catering.”

“Catering? Oh, right.” Mara remembered she’d complained to Shada weeks ago about it. She’d been spending so much time at the Academy in Luke’s absence she’d been forced to eat the dreadful cafeteria meals far more often than she would have liked.

“They’re a local company, the best we could get on short notice,” Shada told her as if it was a matter of the utmost importance. “They’re cheap, too, since they bring up lower-levellers to use as staff - they’re treated fairly, I checked it out. I’m trying to broker a deal with an Ithorian company which should be more sustainable long term.”

“And more edible, I hope,” Mara said absently, still watching Ghent work. “I’m sick of nerf surprise, in which I think the surprise is the meat’s not really nerf.” She knew how serious Shada took her work brokering the trade and supply deals for the Academy, and also knew that she was being kind in trying to distract her, but Mara was still anxious. She had that proverbial bad feeling.

“How’s it going, Ghent?” she pressed him, peering at his datapad but it was just a sea of numbers.

“I’ve gotten through the first layer of encryption,” he said. “There’s definitely communication software here - one way only, looks like it can only receive messages. I’ll try to get the overwrite key to cut into an transmissions, but there more code here. A lot more code. Wait-” Ghent looked concerned, leaning forward and typing even more furiously onto the datapad. “I’m getting an energy spike from the disc. Something is happening.”

“A communication?” Mara asked, watching as the disc began to vibrate in the analysis chamber. “Can you intercept it?”

“No...agh!” Ghent abruptly pulled his personal datapad from the Temple interface a split second before it shut itself down and the entire room went dark.

“What did you do?” Mara asked into the darkness, the only light a blue glow from Ghent’s datapad - it was the only electronics in the room still active. After a moment the emergency lighting kicked in, flooding the room in a dim orange glare.

“It wasn’t me,” Ghent said, his face very pale. “I got my datapad unplugged just in time before they went off - they’ve infected the entire system, it’s shut down.”

“Did we trigger it?” Shada asked.

“No,” Ghent shook his head. “This was what was meant to happen - any disc attached to an NR database was timed to release the virus.” He cast worried glance around the room and and took off, Mara and Shada following close behind.

“Is it just us that’s down?” Mara asked as they walked, at the same time typing a message in her wrist comm to the Jedi she knew were on Coruscant to come to the Temple. “Your datapad’s still working.”

“All roads lead back to the mother database at NRI,” Ghent told her, quickening his step. “I keep my datapad separate from the hub for this very reason - if I can get back to NRI I may be able to reboot the system.”

“So that was their plan?” Mara mused almost to herself. “They wanted us to bring the disc here?”

“I don’t think that’s likely, Mara,” Shada shook her head. “If they wanted to infect the system they’d try to do so at the source - there’s thousands of staffers who could be bought off and convinced to take one in.”

“Probably,” Ghent agreed as they walked out of the main Temple doorway. Mara halted in her tracks as saw the atmosphere above was alight with blaster fire. Her heart leapt into her throat as she remembered that Jaina was on maneuvers with Rogue Squadron that day, and therefore likely in the thick of the battle above.

Ghent swore. “I was afraid of that.”

“Someone’s attacking,” Shada looked up at the sky. “It looks like at least a dozen Star Destroyers, Imperial Era. But how, I thought there were satellites up there to take out any threats?”

“It’s all connected to the NRI hub,” Ghent told them, stowing his datapad in his jacket and hopping onto his speeder bike. “Which means the defence system is down too.”

“They’ll have to engage in an old fashioned dogfight,” Shada nodded.

“I’ll try to get everything back up as soon as I can,” Ghent told them. “Whoever they are you’ll need to hold them off until then.” He ramped his engine and then sped off in the distance of the Intelligence Centre.

Mara looked back up at the sky and saw that a Star Destroyer had broken through the upper atmosphere and was opening it’s lower hull to release something down onto the city.

“They’re not fighters,” she breathed, squinting to see hundreds of small mechanical objects drop deliberately to the ground. “They’re battle droids.”

 

JadeLotus - you're raising this bar of excellence ridiculously absurdly fantastically high.

~!

The now-scenes - a virus and battle droids Wow, something tells me Micah's tidbit of valuable info is a tad late.

~!

The flashback - yay for Leia's decision. I like Luke's insight about intent mattering. Hmmm. So L/M are still doing the tap-dancing down the Egyptian river Denial - they are toppers and past masters at it.

Eagerly awaiting more and happy there are two posts a week.

 

Thank you! Micah's information may still come in handy ;-). And as for flashback Luke and Mara, they're so deep down that river they navigate it easily...for now.