Well, for a year now the many talented writers on this list have continued to
delight and captivate me with their charming tales. Perhaps it is time I
muster some courage and attempt to contribute more than my usual chatter and
begging :) And as Rebirth is quickly approaching -- I fear the events of the
book may change my point of view. This is totally a work in progress, only a
few chapters are close to being finished. This is the first fic I've posted
with a plot (hopefully it has a plot), actually it is a continuation of my BP
challenge piece -- so yes many of you have already read the first bit. Love
to hear your critiques. Ok -- I know I'm babbling again.

To all those brave souls who have shared their imaginations - you are
inspiring. Also, thanks to Anna for playing fill in the blank and wading
through a half finished chapter - somehow making sense of it :) Finally, my
most sincere gratitude to Jackie for her encouragement and expertise wielding
that red pen of hers. This never would have continued without you.
Thank-you.

Just a warning - there are many place and time changes in this first chapter
which are meant to be seamless so if you are feeling a little like "What the
….?" Have patience :) Hopefully its not too bad without the formatting -
but if you need I can email anyone who wants it a pretty copy :)

"Dawning"
Chapter One
By Niqella

Rating R

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Lucas, this is just for fun and there is
no infringement intended, -- & as Timothy Zahn once said "we just get to play
in his driveway." Oh, what a fun driveway it is :)

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

'Blue'.

'Green'

'Blue.'

Mara Jade Skywalker propped herself up on one elbow starring determinably
into her husband's shining blue eyes. "Blue eyes, blonde - I might as well
be carrying a Luke clone."

"Green," Luke answered with a wry smile. Drawing her into a kiss, he cut
any attempts at a rebuttal. "I'm willing to concede the blonde hair although
there is a definite tint of red."

Rolling back onto her pillow, Mara ran a hand over her expanding stomach and
Luke's quickly reached out to join hers. "We'll just see who's right," she
quipped smugly.

Lovingly Luke sent a wave of the Force to their son as he leaned in to brush
his lips against Mara's belly. "She'll see," he whispered, grinning up at
his wife's skeptical face with eyes aglow, "won't she… Han?"

"When Hutts can run, Skywalker," she spat, knocking him in the head with a
pillow with one clean swoop. "We're not naming him after that scruffy
looking nerf herding ex-smuggler brother-in-law of yours."

Luke had nothing in his defense but a wry smile and eyes of admiration for
his wife. He loved her like this, blazing like Tatooine's suns. Debate and
jest had become a cornerstone of their relationship. She could feel his
emotions, his joy and happiness. This had become their time; the few hours
before day break, when hopes mingled with reality. As newlyweds Mara would
reach out to him in her dreams, waking in his arms to make love. Sometimes
they would meditate. Often discuss the trivial aspects of life. In the
worst days of her illness, she would wake to find his eyes swollen and red,
and in those fleeting moments she could open herself to his love and comfort,
and cry softly in his arms. A part of her had come to rue the dawn, which
pulled her from the warmth of their bed. Only a few weeks ago she even
dreaded the first few rays of sunlight. The waves of nausea began at first
light and would stretch into midday -- Mara was certain their son had
inherited Luke's farmboy chrono. Lately they basked in the joy of impending
parenthood, negotiating the attributes of this new life. Nothing existed
beyond the view of their room. The day was unsullied and full of
possibility. There was peace.

"Does this mean Talon and Chewie are off the list as well."

'You are enjoying this, aren't you Skywalker', she thought. In the years
since they married she had discovered her husband's love of baiting her.
Mara knew this game; it had become a sort of dance, playful and sexy, and he
only got better at it. She rewarded him with her typical green-eyed stare. .

Reaching up, Luke pulled a damp curl back from her cheek. "Mara," he
breathed bringing them to the truth of the matter, "we are going to have to
call him something other than "him" or "he" at some point." Luke leaned back
against a wall of pillows, "What about Jade." He threw it out there partly
to goad her some more, but she knew there was a part of him that was serious.

Sighing, she rolled back onto the bed to gaze up at the ceiling. "I liked
Ben, or Owen." She turned her head back to those blue eyes.

Luke tangled a hand through her unruly mane, and suddenly her farmboy was
lying next to her. "I thought we decided to give him a name that means
something to both of us."

"Yes," she whispered softly, 'I know I'm the one holding back. You have
learned patience.' Mara was thankful for his lightheartedness; it calmed her
own uncertainties. "I just don't want him to bear the responsibilities of the
past." Gently she pulled him closer, she had taught Luke to laugh again and
he in turn had shared his capacity for tenderness. Even after seven years of
marriage the intimacy of their relationship frightened, excited, and pushed
her forward everyday. "There will be enough on his shoulders simply being
our son, the Skywalker legacy alone…" she paused, feeling his twinge of
remorse towards his heritage. 'Life holds more than the past, Luke.' "He'll
have both our names regardless, I want him to have his own as well."

"He will," Luke murmured. His breath was warm on the side of her face,
making her inhale languidly.

Just as she knew he loved to see her fiery spirit, Mara loved the simplicity
of a dreamer in Luke. They were the first things, which attracted each to
the other, the one quality that was the most unlike themselves. She craved
the man that lay beside her each night, with his hair disheveled and the
emotions of his heart so clearly on his face, the titles and robes stripped
away. It was that man with whom she had built a future, created a new life.
Falling in love with Luke meant loving each aspect of him. The Jedi Master
and his sense of responsibility, calmness, humility, and his quest for wisdom
and balance. Under all that resided a rogue; the spirited pilot and warrior
who was her comrade, her partner, the man who could match her wits for wits.
But it was the earnest eyes of a farmboy she said yes to when he proposed a
lifetime ago. It was that earnestness, his faith in good, and his pursuit of
peace, which were the qualities she wished the most for their son. 'May you
have your father's light, little one.'

Turning into his embrace, she ran her fingers through the disarray of Luke's
hair, and gave in to the rush of hormones, which seemed to besiege her body
of late. Now in the latter half of her second trimester Mara began to see
why some woman claimed to relish pregnancy. She might even dare to say she
felt sensual. Healthy and strong, her stomach and breasts showing the growth
of life. After months of illness, she truly felt alive. Still part of her
continually stood guard, waiting for the enemy virus to make its attack. It
was a battle she prepared herself for, one she would not fail. Thank the
Force, it was one she had not yet been required to fight again.

Vibrancy radiated from Mara in the shelter of shadows, where she had no need
to hide the curves of her evolving body from the rest of the galaxy. Luke's
fascination with her lines led his hands over the smooth surface of her skin.
Her mouth sought the taste of him. Both of them eagerly taking what the
other offered, and demanding more. 'I love you, Mara,' echoed through the
back of her mind. His spirit washed over her, mingling with her own, and
then wrapping their son, who's tiny presence reached out with recognition, in
warmth and unwavering love.

For those joyous moments before dawn they were one whole. It was only the
three of them, and they lingered there in the light between reality, and
dreams…

* * * * *

The heavy oppression of humidity surpressed the desire to move, and any rebel
attempts were squelched by the sweet calming speech of the nearby falls
conversing quietly with the pool of water below it. Nothing could make her
move from this spot, nothing…

She felt the tiny presence reach blindly out with the Force even before the
first whimper pushed its way through his pouting lips. Pulling her hair from
her heat drenched nape, Mara leaned forward to rest her chin on her knees and
gently set the low hanging cradle beside her in motion. The baby cooed in
his sleep, comforted by the reassuring presence of his mother. 'I'm right
here. Shhh. Go back to sleep.'

With a fingertip, Mara pushed a wry tuff of damp blonde hair off to the side,
tilting her head to admire her son's soft pouting bottom lip and the faintest
hint of his dimples.

"I told you he looked like you," she remarked, not having to turn around to
discover Luke's own dimpled smile observing them.

"But his eyes, Mara..." he said softly, with pride, taking a seat next to her
and dropping his head to kiss her bare shoulder, "are the most mesmerizing
shade of green."

Swiftly she turned in his arms, to meet him with her infamous green eyes.
Rarely did she observe her husband gloat, but his glee at winning a bet with
his wife was unmistakable. "Don't get cocky, Skywalker," she scolded. But
her glare disintegrated under the pressure to conform to his own smug smile,
his sheer delight pushing its way into her core. "Next time!…" 'Next time…'
the words rolled off her tongue with such ease and echoed in her head. She
paused. A small ache in her heart whispered 'will there be a next time?'

"Next time we'll have a girl," Luke offered without hesitation, his sparkling
blue eyes offering love and support, 'always the optimist.' "Red hair,
green eyes," his fingers, tracing a lock of hair came to rest along the
groove below her ear, his thumb tenderly stroked her cheek as if wiping away
the tear she defied to let fall.

For a moment she studied him in silence. Even behind the years of his face
she could see the tenacious farmboy whose blind optimism made him a hero. A
short huff of laughter escaped her lips. "A Girl?" she queried the arch of
her eye pulling the corners of her mouth into a soft sly smile. "Are you
willing to lay odds on that, Jedi?" She watched his own smile broaden.
"Double or nothing."

"You have yourself a bet, Jade," he answered, pulling her into his kiss.

The baby gurgled happily from his cradle, as if requesting to be part of the
pact. In one fluid motion Luke leaned forward, eagerly gathering him up
before stretching back into the long cool grass holding the wee boy at arms'
length and gliding him through the air as he once did his model X-wing.
"Your mom's going to owe me big, my little one," Luke soothed as he brought
the baby into his chest for a landing.

Mara peered down at the two of them. This was one bet she would be just as
happy losing. Boy or girl, a victory would simply be another child. It
seemed too much to believe, impossible. But since meeting Luke, Mara had
come to know how saturated in possibilities life can be. Hope was all they
needed. Still a bet was a bet, appearances needed to be maintained, and Mara
Jade never lost. "Don't count your credits just yet, Skywalker," she warned,
lying down beside him she drifted off to sleep...

Squealing laughter poured through Mara's ears as she awoke. Luke still
slept soundly beside her, the baby lying on his chest. The laughter echoed
with such frolic and fancy. It seemed to ripple over the pond and spread out
through the forest. She closed her eyes and let the cool wind lap over her.
Then looking back out on the meadow the laughter began to take shape.

Enthusiastically a small girl pursued a fliitterling through the meadow. Her
red-gold mane flowing behind her like streamers on a kite. She ran wild
through the tall grass, which at times seemed to swallow her up, squealing
like a Jawa with a new droid. Laughing to herself Mara watched invigorated,
feeling the child's glee racing through her.

Closing her eyes, Mara could envision the blades of the grass moving swiftly
pass as the child ran. And then suddenly in her mind she was that little
girl, she was 5 years old and she was free.

A voice was calling her from the edge of the meadow. There was urgency in
the tone although it was attempting to maintain a degree of calmness. A warm
familiar presence, as distorted as the voice, pulled at her through the
Force, reining her in. 'Mara. Come here.'

Someone was calling her. 'Luke?…'

She looked back towards the shade of the forest, where Luke slept with the
baby. No one was there.

Suddenly a blast came from above. As the child, Mara spun around. She
starred up into the sky, the sun camouflaging the attackers, four troopers
descending from the sky on speeders. Only one horrified thought existed in
her mind, they've found us.

"Mara!" Strongly the voice bit out.

Cutting through a maze of grass she ran towards it, a beacon of safety. She
ran hard. Not looking behind. Blindly pushing forward. Not knowing where
or who, only sensing her life depended on getting to that voice. An image of
a trooper swooping down against her back leapt through her mind, and she
threw herself over a fallen tree just as the hum of the bike swept overhead.

"Mara!"

She was close. The voice focussed her, lifting her head she saw the goal.
Safety and strength. It ran towards her in the form of a man, his green eyes
panic stricken, his lightsaber drawn, charging forward as another speeder
barreled down on him. Blast bolts scattered in a frenzied array as they were
deflected off the saber. A woman was visible by his side, a mane of fire
glistening in the sun behind her as she ran full force, igniting her own
saber.

A speeder circled above, setting up its attack as another hurtled across the
field towards the woman. Suddenly, turning to leave herself defenseless, the
woman cast her weapon away. It arched swift and high into the air. With
grace and precision it sliced through the back of the hovering attacker,
toppling him to the ground. Without hesitation the saber returned to its
master's hand, as she pivoted and rolled under the other oncoming attacker's
machine at the last second, blade extended upward taking out the bike's
control.

Back up on her feet, the woman joined the man in his defense. Quickly they
worked to hold the last two troopers at bay. A deflected blast bolt managed
to eliminate half the problem, as it took out one of the remaining troopers.
And suddenly it seemed as if the odds were in their favor.

Mara continued to run full tilt across the field, as the last trooper broke
off its attack to make a round long sweep of the clearing. The man cut his
weapon's lightstream while he ran forward to meet Mara. Seeing his face sent
a calm through her, an assurance that it would be ok. Time and space began
to slow as she etched their faces into her mind.

Abruptly a cry broke from the woods. Watching as the relief upon the older
woman's face crumbled into terror, Mara's body jerked to a stop. From the
woods an army of stormtroopers emerged, their armor creating a low rumble as
they ran forward. The couple ignited their weapons, although they were
surrounded, a determinism and protectiveness emanating from them that struck
Mara to the core.

A sudden wave of understanding flooded through her.

"Moma!"

Binding herself with the younger version of what she now realized without
doubt was she, Mara cried out with recognition and desperation.

"No, Popa!"

"Run Mara!" Her mother cried out, but Mara's feet were fixed to the ground.
'Go Mara! Run!' A wave in the Force reached out and pushed her away.

Like energy dispersed from a blaster, the air in her lungs burst through her
lips in the form of a sudden sob. Stumbling backwards her eyes never left
her parents who stood helplessly in the middle of the meadow desperately
searching for an escape which would never come. 'Run Mara! ' And then she
ran. She ran with more might than her small legs possessed. Her eyes
focused intently on the promise of freedom held within the forest on the
other side of the clearing. Mara could feel herself being guided, the image
of her father's face, gentle and reassuring, shimmered through the trees.
The Force radiated through her, it made her steps sure and light.

Then in an instant she was flying.

A trooper held her tightly in his grip, pulling her onto his bike as he
gained altitude. Slung over the front of the speeder, she flung her arms out
pleading for the grasp of her parents who slipped further away like stars in
hyperspace.

'Mara!'

Luke's voice ripped through her mind. With a jolt Mara opened her eyes,
finding herself standing by the pond on Yavin, the troopers, her parents,
even her younger self gone. Immediately she tried to orientate herself,
stretching out to latch onto Luke's presence.

'Mara! They've found us!'

Swinging around like a sensor homing in on its target, she brought her saber
to life with a hiss as it crashed violently into the amistaff of an attacking
Vong. The warrior's strange, hooded eyes bore into her; the determination,
power, and hatred of an entire species pouring into his attack. Breaking
their lock, Mara shoved her attacker backward. They circled each other, like
vornskrs fighting for territory.

"Coiq ta cil tu civva" Eyes never leaving hers, the Vong warrior spoke,
his scarred chin motioning at her, "Yuux ti vac,… Jeedai." With vigor and
determination, his massive structure lunged forward, amistaff leading.
Parrying, Mara vaulted herself skyward; body and saber rotating inward to
clash mid air with her foe's weapon from behind. The force of her blow
multiplying with the intensity of his own inertia preceded o knock him off
balance, as she landed behind him.

Quickly the Vong regained his footing, just in time to catch the weight of
Mara's second blow with his amistaff as it came hurtling towards him.
Pulling back he pivoted outward, the fanged end of his staff thrusting a
vicious stroke at Mara's head, which her saber rose to meet, leaving herself
exposed to the strong sweep kick which followed.

She caught the force of his foot with her stomach, inhaling sharply. Letting
her body move with the punch, Mara hit the ground, rolling backward and on to
one knee, only to be met by a swift backhand to her left temple.

Her face slammed against the stone floor.

Everything slowed, as Mara's senses flickered erratically. Attempting to
shake her head, things blurred, then cleared sharply for a moment. A surreal
glow lit the distance, drawing her eyes along the cold gray line of the
floor. Trying to reclaim her vision from the blur before her, she strained,
with ragged breath, and the light took shape. It danced like Philokian Fire
Moths, bobbing and turning in a hypnotic rhythm against the temple walls.

Coruscant. The Jedi temple on Coruscant.

She tried hard to gather her bearings, only still vaguely aware of the
warrior behind her, his dark mocking laughter dulled by the pounding in her
head. Slowly her eyes began to focus, the moths morphing into a master
wielding his saber with accuracy and grace.

'Luke?' she whispered, with confusion into the distance.

Then, echoing through the Great Hall, came the soft whimpering of a baby.
Panic gripped her heart and threatened to swallow her from within.
Frantically she forced her uncooperative eyes to search the room for her
son.

Until Luke's spirit brushed against hers, making everything clear. Closing
her eyes she could see the wee child wrapped tightly in his cloak, tucked
into a crook of the temple wall.

Furiously Luke battled, his opponent on the defensive, driving him back away
from their son. Under the assault the Vong suddenly fell to his knees, and
the Jedi Master quickly lifted his blade to end the fight, then hesitated.
Through their bond Mara could feel his danger sense flare, and she could see
his eyes flash back at her wide with recognition. "Mara!"

Filling her mind with his vision, her left hand stretch out for him, and her
saber flew ignited from the shadows. Spinning over she came to face her
husband's fear, immediately deflecting a deadly strike while drawing the
holdout pistol from her forearm. The blast knocked the Vong back, allowing
her to scramble to one knee, but she fell short of her feet as the staff came
charging back at her, only stopping to savor the kill.

His mutilated nostrils flared, a snarled smile twitching at his torn lip.
"Ti Caqi!" He hissed. "Die you now, Jeedai."

Mara! Luke's cry rang through her ears as he charged across the room.
Lifting her weary head, she scowled up at the figure towering over her
through the curtain of her wild red-gold hair, her weapons caught helplessly
at her sides. The Vong's eyes darkened.

With a howl, his arms held high, he struck out, heaving every molecule of
strength downward.

The Force surged through Mara, her eyes glowed and fell beneath their lids.
Reflexively her right shoulder rolled back, the staff, millimeters away,
chasing her. Fluidly her shoulder continued to drop, levering the opposite
forward, her hand sweeping low along the floor to grasp her blade and sank it
deep into the armorless seam of his side.

Victory washed from his face, and the new tide of shock and defeat swept
through his massive structure. His darkened eyes opened wide with
understanding, meeting Mara's - who now held him close as if in an embrace,
and then fell shut.

Mara pulled her saber from him and his body slumped to the ground. A breath
pushed its way violently from her lungs, and she tumbled backwards, verging
on collapse.

Luke's arms wrapped around her as she collided back into his chest, pulling
her against the wall. The baby's cry growing louder.

"Where is he?" she pleaded, almost deliriously. Her breathing raging out of
control, she steadied herself against the stone, slowly letting the Force
sooth her mind.

Urgently but with love, Luke wrapped his hands through her hair and drew her
head to his. A burst of energy rippled through Mara as they merged in a
stream of light, leading her to their son who fussed softly only a few meters
away.

"He's safe, Mara," he whispered reassurance into her ear, "but we have to
get out of here." His lips pressed softly to hers, wiping the tears from her
cheeks as he did so. And relief eased her spirit, giving her the strength to
look out into the darkness.

A low rumble shook through the temple and over Luke's shoulder she could see
the Yuuzhan Vong warrior Luke left in defeat rising to his feet, as a platoon
of his comrades flooded up the temple steps. Gripping her hand, Luke spun
himself outward to face the attackers.

The steady beat of the Yuuzhan Vong march increased, with a snap hiss,
lightsabers were ignited, the baby cried, and the Vong charged.

A sea of nothingness rolling forth behind masks of disfigurement.

* * * * *

With a gut-wrenching start, Mara bolted upright in her bed; one arm wrapped
protectively around her swollen belly, the other outstretched like a magnet,
drawing her lightsaber to her. The cool familiar cylinder made contact with
her grip, bringing it to life just as a hand grasped her wrist. The soft
blue glow from her saber shimmered over the thin layer of sweat, which
covered her skin and dampened her sheath and bedding, and she found herself
face to face with her husband.

"Mara!" Luke's face mimicked the concern in his voice, his eyes quickly
surveying her for the problem and his mind probing hers. Immediately after
seizing her wrist, his hands traveled to her face to lend support and brush
her hair back off her brow, unfazed by the ignited weapon, which quickly fell
disengaged to the bed. Through their bond, glimpses of her dream rocketed
before his eyes. "Mara?"

Had it only been a dream? The Force still swept the past and future around
and through her, whispering the truth. A vision.

Mind racing, she took a ragged breath, her green eyes glowing as they bore
into Luke's. "They've found us," Mara stated, each word emphasizing the
dread and weight, which accompanied the knowledge. "The Vong. They've found
us... they are here on Coruscant just waiting, but they'll be coming for us…"
for the baby. Her arms clutched a little tighter around their unborn son,
and in turn Luke pulled her into his hold. A half sigh, half sob of
exhaustion escaped her lips. "Can you feel it? The void out there. The
quiet. It's them."

"I know," was his simple reply, "they are close." Closing his eyes tightly,
Luke drew the Force around them and their bodies back to the bed.

Covering his eyes with her hand, her words were muffled by his chest.
"Don't." She could feel him reaching for the future, "I don't want to know.
It won't help." Tilting her head back, Mara stared up into his clear blue
eyes and there she found the only future she cared about, and it gave her
strength.

"The future is always in motion," attempting a weak, but characteristically
wry smile she regurgitated Jedi wisdom. He smiled back with acknowledgement
and Mara rested her head against his throat. Together they would protect
their son; they would their way.

'Run Mara.' The images of her parents lingered before her.

A waking alarm sounded on the environmental controls and rays of light
streamed through the windows. Immediately they were assaulted by the stimuli
of Corsucant's morning activity. Mara's eyes flinched briefly, adjusting to
the day. Luke pulled her protectively a little closer. They clung to one
another, quiet and still, planning an escape.

Well this chapter definitely was a group effort. Thanks so much to Jackie
and Anna for their help when I was fleshing it out. Thanks to Christie and
Maara for giving it a once over. And thank-you to Cheryl for the beta swap &
helping me polish it off. It is all much appreciated.

Rating - This chapter is PG
Disclaimer - As Timothy Zahn once said 'I'm just playing in Lucas' driveway'.
And what a fun driveway it is - no harm or infringement intended.

Dawning
Chapter Two

"Here, drink this," Luke held the glass of Pilaya juice in front of her, his
free hand slid supportively along her shoulder and down her back as he sat.

Mara winced at the bitter taste. "I thought this was supposed to make me feel
better," she choked.

"It will, just drink it," he patiently ordered. His eyes were tired, in the
daylight they revealed the weight he carried willingly upon himself.

With narrowed eyes she scrutinized him for a moment, and then softening, she
poured the rest of the concoction down her throat. Her lips pursed, as her
mouth fought to rid itself of the horrible taste. Luke's hand traced small
slow circles along her lower back, and his presence washed over her. A deep
purifying breath filled her lungs, lifting her body and her spirit.
Exhaling, she let all her anxieties go.

"Better?," he questioned.

"Yes," she nodded, "thank-you."

Luke's head dipped to kiss her shoulder and then rested there. She pressed
her cheek against his soft sandy hair. "How much time do you think we have?"
Mara asked.

"I don't know. Perhaps a week." he answered. Turning his head, he brushed
his lips against her shoulder again, and then lifted his eyes to hers. "I
don't think anyone really knows how established the Vong may already be here.
We've always suspected there were a few scouts on planet."

Pushing herself up off the chair, Mara stepped toward Coruscant's cityscape,
shining through the transparisteel. "What I feel out there is more than a
few scouts, Luke."

Suddenly, the city became a barricade, and the sights and sounds she had come
to know and love held shadows. //Run Mara. Run.// Warnings and flashes of
her vision echoed through her mind, amplified by the waves of hormones in
which her emotions swam.

Joining her at the window, he wrapped his arms around her, like an anchor.
"I'm going to get you and the baby out of here."

The statement jarred her; she spun around in his arms. "We," she emphasized,
"are all getting out of here, Skywalker."

"Mara, the government is not going to let me go that easily," he said. His
arms held her shoulders firm, "we could probably get an exit visa for you,
for medical purposes."

"I'm not leaving without you and we are not telling the NR about the baby."

"Not the baby," he explained. "You are still in remission, Mara, but the
symptoms of your pregnancy have produced wide spread rumors about a relapse.
It would be understandable that you might seek treatment off planet."

She pulled away from him, withdrawing into the room. "No," she bit out.
"I'm not leaving without you." Mara could feel him about to counter and she
rushed forward to end the debate. "Besides, it would never work. They would
require medical documentation we can't supply and that would risk exposing
knowledge of the baby."

"If Cighal could…" he began.

"Cighal's transport has been missing a week, Luke, remember?!" She threw her
hands up in surrender, fighting back the tears that welled in her eyes.

Standing across the room from him, she could hear the breath he exhaled
sharply - like a heavy blow to the gut. Raking a hand over his head and down
his neck he looked over at her, fighting to maintain his composure. His
weary eyes glistened with threatening tears, and two years of suffering
pounded against him. NRI refused to acknowledge the Calamarian healer and
her team's disappearance, and for the past week Luke's heart did the same -
denying what his mind and the Force kept telling him. Ally after ally,
friend after friend, he watched them fall.

Mara felt the grief eat away at the man she loved so dearly. Closing the
distance between them, she opened herself to him. Grasping his hand, she
squeezed it tight against her belly and with tenderness her other hand cupped
his face.

"We can do this Luke," she reassured him. "You've planned this out and Leia
and Han have established an entire network. Kam and Tionne, and others have
already found their way out."

"Mara, we aren't just any refugee family. The NRI - the galaxy, are watching
our every move."

"Since when did that make a difference?" She questioned, her tone harsher
than she meant it to be in the wake of her own exhaustion and fear. "What
happened to the Luke Skywalker who used to break into detention centers?!"

"He became a husband and a father!" Luke protested, his voice steeped in
emotion. For the first time since they discovered this new life, Mara could
fully feel the fierceness of her husband's love and concern for their son.
"If anything was to happen to the two of you, because of your connection to
me…" Luke swallowed hard and dropped his head, teeth clenched firmly
together, fighting the darkness of his fears.

She pulled his chin up to match their gaze. "Hey," she whispered with the
perfect mix of tender firmness. "I thought we sorted all this out in that
cave on Nirauan." Bashful acknowledgement spread over his face, although the
protectiveness in his eyes did not fade - it never did, he simply held it
back. Kissing his cheek, Mara let her love spread light over his fears.
Only together would they survive this, as they had so much before.

"Sometimes I wish I was just a moisture farmer," he said with a sigh of
surrender, his eyes glanced down and then back up at her.

"And that's what makes you a great man, Luke," Mara reflected. "But you are
just a man. You don't have to carry all the weight of the galaxy. You don't
even have to carry all the weight of us."

Reluctantly, he nodded and she stroked his cheek tenderly, both of them
making amends for their behavior of late.

"It's just," Luke pulled her close, his hand brushing over her stomach, "you
are already carrying so much of *us*," he smiled as he held her tight, their
laughter breaking the tension.

"Skywalker!" she chided, swatting his shoulder, and then falling into his
embrace. They stood there for a few minutes just holding each other,
gathering strength from their bond.

Abruptly, a string of electronic tones radiated through the hallway, and the
sound of slightly scuffed boots rushed towards them. Luke and Mara pulled
apart to face the intruder, whose gruff voice gave away his identity without
need of the Force.

"I'll show myself in," Han Solo snapped at Artoo as he breezed past the
droid. "Luke! Mara!" he called out, making his way quickly down the
hallway, the small R2 unit scooting along at his heels.

"We're in here," Luke answered just as Han rounded the corner into the
livingroom.

Mara could sense the distress in her brother in-law's emotions and even the
Force blind could see it from his appearance, his face slightly haggard and
unshaven. What's wrong, was the obvious question but she wouldn't have to
ask.

"Fey'lya." Han growled. It was amazing how one word could say so much.
"That scruffy Bothan is up to something."

"What now?" Luke sighed.

"It's Leia," Han answered and Mara could sense her husband's spine go rigid.
"He had two of his goons on our doorstep at dawn, summoning her to his
office."

"What!" Luke exclaimed, sharing an incredulous glance with his wife.

Mara let out a soft huff as her son's foot landed firmly between two of her
lower ribs. Instantly her hand reached out to sooth him. In many ways, it
was a simple attempt to ease her own growing uncomfort: physically and
emotionally. She breathed in - *My feelings exactly, Little One*

* * * * *

Councillor Leia Organa Solo stared intently out at the Coruscant skyline.
Breathing in, she attempted to drain out her aggression, but it only pooled
at her hand, which clenched the smooth metal grip of her cane. Letting the
Force build in her, she closed her eyes and pushed the anger further down.
If only she could dispel Fey'lya's voice with such ease.

"Councillor, you can't think the Senate so ignorant as to not know the extent
of your involvement with the Jedi," the Bothan baited with his usual degree
of condemnation. His refusal to let go of this matter was beginning to wear
thin.

"No," Leia curtly responded as she pivoted away from the glass. The sharp
pain in her legs, an ever-lingering reminder of the Yuuzhan Vong's presence
in the galaxy, reinforced her resolve. "No, I believe the Senate is well
aware of my involvement with my children, and my brother. You, Chief
Fey'lya, seem to be the only one shocked by it."

Quickly volleying, Fey'lya played the role of the stalwart leader with his
usual gusto, "Only shocked, Councillor, that you would undermine the safety
of the New Republic in order to further your own political interests."

And there is the point of the matter. Leia held no misunderstanding that
this had anything to do with Fey'lya's concern with Jedi activities and much
to do with his own insecurities and rivalry with herself. "I assure you as
difficult as it was to watch this government turn its back on a group
instrumental in fortifying the seats upon which you sit, there is no
conspiracy on my part," the polite anger pushed its way through clenched
teeth. "If I were grooming a Jedi elite to take control and reinstate myself
as Chief of State, I would have stepped forward long before the Yuuzhan Vong
issue." A sigh of frustration concluded her remarks and she allowed her free
arm to shift some of her weight to the chair in front of her.

"Your inability to explain your recent absence and activities does not lean
favorably in your defense," replied Fey'lya.

Leia studied the current Chief of State. Despite his diligent attempts to
maintain a veil of reserve, she could sense his uneasiness and a certain
degree of desperation. "I was unaware that I am in need of a defense."

Trust was as foreign as the Yuuzhan Vong when it came to Fey'lya. He plotted
his political path from youth and, in Leia's mind, undermined and hindered
anyone or thing that threatened to deviate him from his plan. Fey'lya could
be a great leader -- when the needs of the galaxy mirrored his own.
Therefore, since he took office, Leia found herself continually questioning
her decision to step down. And Fey'lya knew it. It was an unspoken fact.
Few doubted what the outcome would be if a campaign was waged between the two
leaders. But there had been no campaign. Leia retired from office, and for
lack of any real competition, Fey'lya stepped into her place. Still, Fey'lya
never missed the opportunity to discredit his predecessor.

"Frankly, I find your accusations, Chief Fey'lya, insulting and tiring. My
absence from Coruscant, as I have explained before, was necessary for my
recovery." //We are on a diplomatic mission…// echoed softly in her mind.
No, she told herself, this is different. Continually she reminded herself
that her activities of late were just as much of a refugee relocation mission
as her trips to Dantooine or Duro. There was no political insurrection, only
a humanitarian effort. A contrivance of safety for Jedi escaping the growing
persecution of the Peace Brigade. However, the evidence never eased her mind
for too long. Something troubled her. Not about the project, but rather
that she felt such an urgency to keep it covert from New Republic
Intelligence. A haze seemed to surround the direction this government was
taking, a government she desperately wanted to hold together.

"I do not mean to question your loyalty, Leia," Fey'lya offered, the thick
politeness undermining the statement. "We sympathize with your personal
circumstances of late and were disturbed by your experience while in the
Vong's custody." He stiffened again, "But perhaps you have become too
personally involved in this conflict to see what is best for the citizens of
the Republic."

"My brother and his students are citizens of this Republic too, incase you
have forgotten," she harshly reminded, attempting to restrain her mounting
frustration and finding herself too tired to continue. "I highly doubt that
it is in the public's best interest to hand over the few resources they have
to protect themselves."

Fey'lya's patience was disintegrating exponentially with her own and Leia
could feel the tension and anxiety driving him forward. "The Yuuzhan Vong
have assured the New Republic they are willing to find a peaceful resolution
to these hostilities." His violet eyes narrowed. "I will not allow the Jedi
to impede that process."

"The only process my brother and the Jedi wish to impede is the enslavement
of New Republic citizens," Leia stated.

"The Yuuzhan Vong are looking for resources. There are enormous
opportunities for economic and scientific trade between our governments. We
are hopeful that an arrangement can be made." Fey'lya stated, his voice
distant and cool, like he was making a statement for the press.

Leia stared incredulously, letting the essence of his words roll through her
head and mingle with the weight of his political position. It chilled her.

"I dearly hope we are not gambling the safety of billions on the possibility
of developing new markets." Her voice was low, trembling with the emphasis of
each word, sarcasm racing with the pace of her own frustration. "Or that
this government is naïve enough to believe that the Vong are going to create
employment opportunities and sell us coralskippers." Her hand gripped her
cane and grasped onto the thin thread maintaining her composure before
proceeding. "They are not here for a scientific trade forum, Chief. The
Yuuzhan Vong are creating an Empire."

"They wish to negotiate," Fey'lya bit out.

"Negotiate!" She exclaimed. "Negotiate what? Your own meagre position in
that Empire?"

Fey'lya's fur ruffled like wind across tall grasses. "Let me remind you,
Princess, I am Chief of State, my interest is solely in maintaining the
welfare of the New Republic…"

"And it hasn't been so long ago since I was sitting in your seat, Chief
Fey'lya, that I forget how things work in this government. Your interests
are right where they always have been," she stared back at him, unflinching.

The Bothan's fur continued to bristle agitatedly along the top of his crown.
If Borsk Fey'lya felt it necessary to take stock of whom the players were,
she was more than willing to lay the credits on the table.

"You are letting your personal involvement cloud your judgement and
jeopardize the possibility of a peaceful resolution," he accused. Air
circulated quickly through his lungs, almost visible as he exhaled with a
huff. Then he gathered his composure, his mannerisms shallow. "You have had
a distinguished career, Leia…" His words hung in the air of the room.

"Had?" she questioned. Fey'lya's clenched jaw and the slightly awkward shift
higher in his chair gave her the answer she sought. Absolute indignation
emanated from Leia. Her shoulders rose with her breath and then set
themselves squarely back down with purpose, like a rancor preparing to
attack. "Are you dismissing me from my post?"

The leader sitting before her lifted his eyes to the challenge. "Your
courage…" he began, "and service with the Alliance and during the formation
of the New Republic won you a permanent place in this government and with the
public. However…" Leia scanned his face, assessing whether he would have the
courage to outright dismiss her. Both parties bore down on the other.
Behind the protocol and civilities, vibroblades were drawn. And then,
Fey'lya's eyes dropped, only for a fraction of a second, and he hurried to
finish, "I would hate to see such a noble political career tarnished by
misconceptions."

A mental sigh was released, obscured by the durasteel of her composure.
"Your concern is heartwarming, but my family and I have survived the trash
compactor before, Fey'lya."

"No one would fault you if you were to step down because of your health,"
changing tactics, he seemed to still be recovering from his inability to
follow through.

"This has nothing to do with my health," Leia strengthened her resolve.

"The majority feels that if you plan on maintaining your role in this
government, you must severe your connection with the Jedi."

"The majority being yourself and a few vocal Senators," she threw back.

"I speak for the Senate."

"This is another purge, Fey'lya and you know it."

"We are trying to maintain your dignity."

"And yours with the press."

"The choice is yours, Leia. You can distance yourself from the Jedi or
resign," the Chief of State's hand fell squarely on the desk, his nostrils
flaring.

"I will not," her cane slammed against the marble floor, "see the history of
this galaxy repeated!" They were playing on the edge and this time there
would be no stepping down.

"The threat of a new Empire is looming. But it isn't hidden behind a Jedi
cloak." Her eyes darkened, letting down her barriers to the truth. "No. You
are defending the wrong perimeter against a coup, Borsk. The harder you try
to hang onto your command, the more vulnerable you become." Pent up
frustrations spilled forth and then like a safety net, the Force rippled
through her pulling her back from the darkness of her anger. A fraction of a
moment passed, her shoulders smoothed out, and she set her balance, "If you
want me removed from this government, you can do it yourself."

"You can't escape this, Leia." Fey'lya disputed weakly.

"They've asked for the Jedi this time, Borsk," she spoke with such calm and
passion, it was mesmerizing. "What will be next? How long until they ask
for you?" Silence besieged the room. Her eyes bore into Fey'lya whose
massive structure, in comparison to her small frame, seemed to collapse as
she turned to leave.

A quiet awakening transpired, she walked slowly away, cane in hand. Reaching
the door she paused. Looking back across the room, the divide between
herself and the establishment she had spent twenty years building was
suddenly visible. To walk out the door meant she would be leaving it behind.
Memories, fears, and hopes raged around Leia and standing there in the eye
of the storm arose a woman of the past. A warrior who watched her homeland
destroyed and comrades perish in order to fight injustice. An inspiring
leader, dulled by years of bureaucracy, re-emerged; shining into the darkness
as Leia stepped forward into the corridor.

"This is only the beginning," she stated. The beginning of a new war, and
perhaps, a new rebellion. Luminescent strength poured forth from her, the
cane, the wounds of age, invisible, as she stood framed in the doorway.
Raising her hand to the control panel as if to bid farewell, she breathed
"May the Force be with us all."

And the door fell.
* * * * *

C was alive with the steady vibrations of life, seemingly oblivious to the
strife of the galaxy around it. Hovercrafts and transports hummed along,
weaving through the undulating obstacles of the city in a well-orchestrated
dance. Gliding along with traffic, and then swooping off to each individual
destination. It was a masterpiece of movement. Against the grandeur of his
office's observation wall Borsk Fey'lya, Chief of State of the New Republic,
appeared only as a stagnant piece of the mural. He sat there alone, much
like how she envisioned the crumbling Imperial Remnant had before the
Alliance took C. Every government had a rise and a fall. Politics was
nothing more than a game. A game Senator Viqi Shesh excelled at.

She stood there watching him from the shadows. Sitting slightly slumped, his
cream fur bristled rhythmically with the slow continual contemplating tap of
his fingers along the arm of the chair. The empty silent space around him
mimicking his vulnerability. Perhaps ten years ago he would have been a more
formidable player, he was shrewd and self-serving but his lack of vision, and
insecurity crippled him. Furthermore, occasionally the old Bothan possessed
a sense of loyalty, and right now it was waging a war deep within him; too
selfish to stand firm on the moral high ground and too weak to grasp the
opportunities to come. It made the game far too easy for her to step in and
play.

Startled, Chief Fey'lya swung his chair around as Shesh stepped into the
room. "Senator," he nodded gathering his composure.

Shesh, smiled demurely, sweeping a lock of midnight hair back behind her ear.
Standing poised in the middle of the large room she looked the very image of
Kuatian purity and innocence, but her eyes danced with the exhilaration of
power. "Good Morning, Chief," she answered. "You asked to see me?"

"Yes," the Bothan waved her in and towards a seat. "I wanted to discuss your
role within this government - I have a proposition for you."

"I am intrigued," playing along she took a seat. This was all simple
formality, a stage to watch the work of the past year slip into place. Every
step had been choreographed, each fact. She knew exactly what was next, as
if she had written it herself.

"And I impressed," he began. "The Gyndine Sector negotiations were a great
success. Your talents for negotiation are an asset to the New Republic."

"Thank-you," she said, simultaneously maintaining her air of humility and
confidence. "However, I have never known you to be a man of many
complements, Chief Fey'lya. Surely there is more on your mind than my work
in the Gyndine Sector?" Shesh pressed, folding her hands comfortably across
her chest and leaning back into the chair.

"Insightful and matter of fact," Fey'lya said with a degree of sly strategy,
his confidence built weakly on his misperceptions of her. If he only knew.

"These are all qualities I like in a Secretary of State," the Chief scanning
carefully for her reaction to his statement, and she played the role of the
controlled but eager politician to the last note. "That is if you accept
the position," he continued. "Otono's resignation was unexpected but
understandable. However, I don't believe this has to be a loss." Sealing the
offer he flippantly added - as if the idea where his, "I feel confident your
skills would be a good match."

"How could I refuse," she replied with her usual tact.

"Good then, it's settled," Fey'lya nodded.

Former Secretary of State, Jakeq Otono, had resigned suddenly yesterday, for
personal reasons. The holoreports would cite the devastation of Otono's home
planet of Tynna, and the recent death of his eldest son, as the Secretary's
reason for stepping down. Most of the Senate would translate the press
statement as a cabinet shuffle, due to Otono's criticism of Fey'lya's
negotiation policy. Fey'lya had given Otono a way out and the Secretary,
undeniably weary after recent events, took it.

Otono had once been a key Senator during Organa Solo's leadership who bridged
the transition from one administration to the other, but didn't fair well at
wartime politics. Still, he was a more than competent politician, well
educated, possessing a vision of the New Republic as it once was before the
Empire, with a heart for the people he represented and an abiding love for
his family. Until recently, the majority of the Senate was indifferent to
him, as was Fey'lya. But to the Peace Brigade, Otono was an opponent of
resolution with the Yuuzhan Vong, and to Senator Viqi Shesh, his position was
an opening to power. Ten days earlier, far from the watchful eyes of the
holograms, the Senate, and even Chief of State Fey'lya, a Peace Brigade
squadron captured and killed Otono's eldest son and held his other two boys
for ransom. The price: his silence and his resignation.

Smiling, she knew the Bothan saw her as nothing more than a skilled orator, a
pawn whose talents he could exploit to keep his own political head above
water, and easy to cut loose if necessary. He was unaware of the network,
time, and energy spent on guiding him into choosing her. The Chief of State
believed himself to be fully in control. And that opinion was a triumph, a
puppet oblivious of his puppeteer. Extracting information from him was
nothing more than pulling the right string.

"Although," she said, studying his every mannerism, "I know there are some
in the cabinet who believe a selection with experience along the lines of
Organa Solo would be better suited."

The huff that escaped the Bothan's mouth was audible. "Sometimes experience
is a weight around one's neck." He remarked, giving her a glimpse of his
meeting with the former Chief of State.

Shesh was well aware of his meeting this morning with Organa Solo; she was
responsible for rallying a few notable senators, many opposing the former
Chief and a few supporters, in order to ruffle Fey'lya's fur. Divide and
conquer. The exercise accomplished its purpose, Fey'lya was off balance and
blind. Leia Organa Solo will be your downfall, Shesh thought, and you don't
even see it.

Fey'lya's distraction was short, but Shesh had already gathered what she
needed to know, before the Chief redirected himself. "You have the support
of the Senate, and most importantly myself. Do not read too much into Admiral
Kre'fey's nostalgia. The military is always eager to fight a war. However,
what the New Republic needs right now are ingenuity and foresight."

Somewhere deep within him, Shesh could sense he too might be fighting his own
bouts of nostalgia. However, pride and insecurity would repeatedly keep him
from acting on it. He was a child rebelling, determined to find his own
way. Smugly confident, and doomed to fail.

"I am honored that you trust so highly in my abilities," she said.

"The press will be notified later this morning," Fey'lya explained. "I trust
you won't mind saying a few words."

"Of course," she nodded.

"Good," the Chief replied standing as a protocol droid shuffled into the
room. Walking around his desk he held out his hand. "This is going to mark
a pivotal day for this government. There are great things on the horizon."

Smiling, she grasped the offered hand firmly, "There are indeed, Chief."

He breezed past her to confer with the droid, and his aide who had just
entered. As he stood behind her signing documents Shesh gazed out the
observation wall. The whole city, and the galaxy it represented, lay before
her. Colors, motion, sounds. A well orchestrated dance, and it would all
follow her lead.

"Great things indeed," she breathed.

* * * * *