At Crysta's behest, I am posting the first of what she calls my Young
Mara fics. If you like it, I have more. If you don't, blame Crysta.
Look! There she is! She's hiding behind Luke! Get her!

--Chris

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

Rating: PG
Disclaimer: George Lucas and LucasFilm Ltd. own the Star Wars
universe and Emperor Palpatine. Hats off, and my most sincere
appreciation to Timothy Zahn for creating Mara Jade, one of the
coolest fictional women around. I'm not sure if it is he or Lucas
that "claims" her, but if you ask me, she belongs to herself! (and
maybe Luke too. J ). All I know is that I have no claim to her.
General Neot-so, however, is a figment of my very own caffeine-crazed
imagination, even if he isn't much of a character at all. So no,
you can't have him.
Author's notes: Thank you to my betas; Crysta and Gill (who are almost
as weird as I am), Andorus, Angela Jade, Sulis, and Arica. You guys
are great.
This is my first plunge into the Star Wars galaxy, but if you like it,
I'll continue it as a series. I may actually try extending it into a
story, rather than leaving it as a vignette if I get enough people who
request it. Fan fiction is addicting. This is only my third story,
but I want to write more. More! More! More! As far as I am aware,
Mara's childhood and upbringing have never been explored. This is my
humble attempt at a portion of what it might have been.

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****************
For My Emperor
By Pseudo Psyche

"Unh!" Sweat flicked into the child's eyes when she ducked just as a
laser blast exploded against the wall above her head. Red-gold wisps
of hair were plastered against her cheeks as she tucked and rolled
into a corner. The move served to place her just out of the destroyer
droid's sensors long enough for her to aim her blaster and fire. Not
surprisingly, the droid's shields deflected the blast sending it
uselessly into a nearby plassteel pylon. It did serve however, to aid
the destroyer droid as it locked onto the girl's location and rolled
itself a half meter to the right in preparation to come in for the
kill.

Perfect.

The girl stood quickly and fired at the chain holding the
stereokineticscope above the droid's position. The equipment fell
squarely onto its intended victim, and not even its advanced shields
could protect it from the heavy load as the droid exploded, sending
shrapnel and sparks helter-skelter across the room in all directions.
The child had wisely flung herself behind a control panel moments
after she fired the fatal shot and now hunkered in safety with her arm
pressed against her eyes for protection.

As the final hiss of released coolant and stinging sparks died down,
she heard what she had hoped and almost prayed to the gods for, had
she known that there were no gods in the galaxy save for the one that
was clapping for her now. Slowly she removed her arm from her eyes
and then stood humbly, but proudly with her youthful chin held high
and her eyes boring into those of her master's guest, for whom this
little demonstration had been performed.

"Very good child." The prune faced man cackled. With his black cowl
framing his face, he looked frightening indeed, but fear was power as
the girl had well learned, and any praise from such a powerful man was
all she could possibly hope for or want. "Your delay during the first
few minutes of the exercise will be overlooked this time-- considering
your creativity and successful dispatchment of your target.

"Thank you my lord. You are most truly kind." The girl lowered her
eyes to the ground in respect and gratitude.

"You destroyed valuable research equipment." Her lord's voice
hardened suddenly and sent the hairs on the back of her neck standing
straight at attention. Still, she had expected this and was well
prepared in her answer.

Rather than keeping her eyes focused on the tips of her boots like
most children (and even war-hardened military officers facing this
man) would, the girl looked up, and focused on an undetermined point
in space somewhere above her master's right shoulder. "You have
taught me that the end justifies the means my lord, and your wish is
to be obeyed as well as any command. You wished me to destroy the
target, and I have done so-with the means available."

The man nodded in satisfaction and looked to his guest, a rather dull
general in the Imperial army, and smirked at his astonished face.

It was a simple and direct answer, and indicated either a highly keen
mind, or the mind of one with no more free will than the droid that
the child had just "killed", General Neot-so, was not certain which,
and he made bold with a question, temporarily forgetting his company.

"How old are you girl?"

She did not respond immediately, but waited for permission. Her
master, however, was not one to let such an insult pass unnoticed.

"You are here as my subject General Neot-so, you will not interrupt
unbidden again."

"I'm sorry Emperor. It will not happen again." Unlike the girl,
Neot-so found sudden fascination with his own boots.

"No. You will not." The Emperor smiled cruelly, and then motioned to
the girl. "Answer him." He commanded.

"I am eight standard solar years old. I will reach my ninth solar
year in three standard months." Came the prim reply.

Neot-so was visibly taken aback by the news that one so young could
fight with such tenacity, fire with such accuracy, and complete such a
difficult task as the one put behind this little girl with such skill.
His surprise was an obvious weakness, the girl noted. One that could
easily be taken advantage of if need be.

If the Emperor noticed this obvious fault on the part of his own
officer, he made no comment other than to widen his smile.

"She is trained well, no?" He asked.

"She is trained very well." Came the reply. The girl took no pride in
his remark. There was no use in accepting praise from anyone as
obviously as weak as he. "Is she to be your apprentice?"

The girl supposed what he meant was, was she supposed to follow her
Emperor around the way the black-masked man did. At least, that's
what she thought the noisy brute with the deep, hypnotic voice did.
She had only got a glimpse of him twice in her time training here, and
to be honest, the sound of his breathing apparatus frightened her a
little. It was something she would never let her master know if she
could help it.

"No. I have other plans for her."

She was glad that someone knew what she was supposed to do, because
she had no clue herself, and in that one ominous statement, she felt
in a small sense that someone was looking out for her. She bit back a
smirk.

"You are excused General Neot-so. I will speak with the girl now."

The general was obviously surprised at the sudden dismissal. He had
been brushed-off in favor of a child, but he bowed humbly and made a
quick exit.

The Emperor spoke again only after the officer left.

"You have done well Mara. But you must continue to improve. In life,
there is no allowance for delay. No room for mistakes! "

"Yes, my lord."

Mara paused, and then ventured out with a question. The only question
she had ever asked since she learned that questions were unacceptable
all those years before.

"My most Honored Lord and Master?" she began.

"Yes? Speak." Came the stern reply.

"Wha-- What are your plans for me?"

Once again, Emperor Palpatine smiled. A smile worse than the one
before, Mara noted.

"For starters, my child, one day when you are ready, and I see fit,
you will kill him." A bony, yellowed finger pointed in the direction
that General Neot-so had left minutes before. The Emperor gazed with
interest at his future assassin's face, gauging her reaction.

Mara swallowed hard and tried to think through the sudden hazy buzz
that filled her head. A droid was a droid. They were built, and they
were destroyed just as easily, but a living being. . .? Mara shoved
her heart back down into her chest and forced the incessant buzzing
noise into a disquieted corner of her mind. She must answer her lord
and master, the only one who had seen fit to care for her and provide
her with not only food and shelter, but with this excellent education.
It was only right that he expected her to use it for his benefit, in
whatever way he saw fit. Mara knew she should be grateful and serve
him to the best of her ability.

Mechanically, Mara found her voice.

"I will not fail you my Master."

Palpatine showed his good humor by his tight upturned lips.

"Perhaps you will be ready sooner than I expected."

Mara locked down on the buzzing in her head that was beginning to make
her nauseous and forced out the answer that was spoken from her heart.

"Anything for my Emperor."

The End
As it seems there are kind souls out there willing to humor me, I am
rewarding them with the second story.

***!!!***No one besides me ever likes this story! Could someone
please give me some insight as to why?***!!!***

Note: There are 3 completed stories in this series, and a fourth
which has been in fan fiction limbo since last November. I'm
currently trying to find interesting humanoid and non-humanoid aliens
from the Star Wars site to complete said fourth story, but in the mean
time, I'm spacing the remaining 2 stories out by a few days to buy me
some time in completing the latest one.

Also, it seems that I can't fit the whole story here, so I broke it
into 2 parts.

--Chris

***********************************
Rating:PG
Disclaimer: George Lucas and LucasFilm Ltd. own the Star Wars
universe and all the characters we know and love (or hate-depends on
your POV). Timothy Zahn is the exalted creator of Mara Jade, but she
belongs to herself. J I'm not making a single Republic credit from
this or any other form of revenue for that matter. My only reward is
feedback in just about any form from the kind folks in cyber-land. I
like reward (hint, hint). The story belongs to me.
Authors notes: All hail the mighty betas without whom I would surely
embarrass myself for all the world to see. Thank you and the
chocolate-covered Jedi of your choice to Crysta, Gill (you get a
chocolate-covered scruffy looking Nerf-herder), Andorus, Sulis, and
Arica (You're too young for Jedi, I'm sending you a stuffed Ewok)!
This is the second installment of the Stolen Innocence Series. The
first installment is For My Emperor.
Archivists: It has come to my attention that people are actually
asking to post my stuff on their sites. I haven't the foggiest idea
why, but if you'd like to archive something of mine, please e-mail me
and ask first. I seriously doubt you'll be denied:
jade_heart_@hotmail.com
Summary: Continues where "For My Emperor" left off. Nine year old
Mara continues her education for the benefit of the Emperor while
beginning to entertain disturbing thoughts.

**********************************************************************
****************
Belong
By Pseudo Psyche

A pale face with a piercing gaze framed by hair the color of the
shimmering sunset. A kind face that shone with love, despite the
choking dust in the air. The face was such a comfort, something Mara
knew so little of these days.

//Come to me.//

Mara stared at the face in confusion. It was the woman facing her who
spoke, but the voice was wrong. Scratchy and deep, not the silvery,
cooing tones that Mara somehow knew belonged to the woman. Somehow. .
.

//Come to me. Now!//

In an instant the loving visage morphed into the alabaster, wrinkled
skin of her lord and master.

Mara woke with a start.

For a moment she lay there, staring at the ceiling of her sleeping
quarters, desperately trying to pull the last wisps of her dream back
to her, to hold onto that woman just long enough to shove her into the
shrinking recesses of her memory before she was gone forever.

But it was too late. When Mara squeezed her eyes shut again, only the
disapproving face of her Emperor stared back at her.

What was she trying to remember again?

Shaking the last vestiges of sleep and shredded dreams from her
wearied mind, Mara practically leapt from her bed and pushed her sleep
shirt above her head. Quickly yanking on her blue jumpsuit and
pulling on her ankle boots over already socked feet, Mara grabbed a
tie for her hair after she combed her fingers through it to keep it
somewhat in place. She gathered her long locks into a ponytail at the
nape of her neck and hastily tied it there as she headed out the door
of her quarters.

She did not run down the corridors. Proper subjects of the Emperor
did not indulge in such childish endeavors. They walked straight and
tall, and in so doing, displayed the strength and discipline of the
Empire. As always, Mara was a very proper subject as she walked
briskly to the Emperor's ready room.

It did not occur to Mara to wonder how she knew that Emperor Palpatine
would be in his ready room at this late hour rather than his own
quarters until she arrived and the door slid open.

Cold and silence greeted her. The girl's brain was just able to
register these two unnerving sensations causing her to believe that
she'd gone to the wrong place, when her eyes picked out a shadowy
figure in the far corner.

The hooded figure stood facing the gray walls. Her Emperor was merely
a black spot against the smooth, polished plasteel that gave the room
such a dignified, austere look. In a moment, Mara realized that his
back was turned to her and inwardly she cringed: this did not bode
well. The deafening silence between them only served to confirm her
fear, and without knowing her offense, Mara tried to brace herself for
the coming punishment. Perhaps her earlier performance with the
training remote was not satisfactory?

"How was your sleep?" her Emperor asked in a low, venomous voice.

This was an odd question. He had never asked the girl about personal
matters before unless it had affected her training somehow. Now Mara
knew that she was not performing to his standards, she silently cursed
herself for her failure even as she answered.

"Satisfactory, my lord."

"Good." It was almost a hiss. "No disturbances then? Nightmares?'

Puzzled, Mara fought herself to keep from displaying her confusion on
her face. Emotions kept one from remaining focused, and they provided
information to the enemy: they must be shoved deep down if they must
occur at all. Another lesson of a good Imperial subject learned well.

"I do not believe so, my lord. I am quite rested."

Finally, and to Mara's relief, Emperor Palpatine turned to face her.
He slowly walked towards her as he spoke.

"I am relieved to here that, little one. I was afraid that dreams of
one who so heartlessly abandoned you might be frightening. I'm glad
to see that they were not."

Mara was as confused by the content of her master's words as by his
use of a childhood endearment that he had not used since the early
days after he brought her with him to this place. This place, her
home.

Emperor Palpatine seemed to pick up on this emotion and asked in a
tone that Mara was not sure was quite genuine, "You were dreaming,
were you not?"

"Yes, my lord, but I did not recognize the person from my dream."
There was that strange buzzing sound in the back of her head again,
the one that seemed to warn her that things were going to go from bad
to worse. Mara did not like where this conversation was going.

"The person who you dreamed of was someone who left you all alone a
very long time ago." The Emperor's eyes became as hard as his voice
with his next comment, "It was a good thing I was there to take you
and protect you from such disgraceful behavior."

Mara swallowed a lump in her throat. Her master's eyes seemed to
positively burn. "Y-yes, sir. Thank you sir."

Her master's posture seemed to visibly relax and he leaned back a bit.

"Oh my poor, poor girl. I've been working you rather hard lately,
haven't I?"

"Sir?"

"You are positively exhausted with all the exercises I have you run
through. Now, don't contradict me, I can tell." The Emperor's face
crinkled in an attempt at a half smile.

Mara wisely remained silent.

"No wonder you have such monstrous visions." Soft tones to match his
soft face, yet the buzzing in the back of her head continued.

For some reason, Mara was irked by the description of the dream-woman
as monstrous, but since she didn't know why, she quickly banished the
thought from her mind as the Emperor continued.

" How are your language studies coming?"

Mara swallowed. This was again unexpected. The more her lord threw
her off balance, the more uncomfortable she became. No longer the
confident young-warrior-to-be that she was in her training exercises
with the droids, Mara was beginning to feel very much like a naughty
little girl being killed with kindness. She hated not feeling in
control, but she refused to be disgraced even now before her
interrogator and idol. Her face held firm in its calm detachment.

"I am progressing. . .slowly, Your Highness."

Intense, hard eyes bored into the girl's face. She could almost feel
them dig under her skin in his scrutiny of her. She would not flinch
and willed her nerves into submission. She was not a weakling. She
was as good as an Imperial princess! So said the great deity, Emperor
Palpatine himself once, long ago, and she believed him.
Wholeheartedly.

Satisfied with her unwavering demeanor, Emperor Palpatine finally
lowered the boom.

"Understandable considering the physical strain you are under. I
believe a vacation is in order."

"A vacation?" she echoed hopefully.

"Yes, a vacation of sorts. To help clear your mind and further your
education. A working holiday, if you will. Tomorrow you will take a
transport to the esteemed Geihidian School of Corellia. There, you
will participate in the classes that have already been chosen for you
and return to me upon the completion of said classes."

Mara's face finally rebelled against its forced composure and fell
like a shattered mask before the Emperor. So this is what it took to
work past her carefully cultivated demeanor, she thought to herself
ruefully: rejection.

The Gehidian School was indeed a gallactically-renowned institution:
for the training of highborn court entertainers (or calandras), and
the daughters of lesser-known nobility who would be expected to
incorporate their lessons from the school into their arranged
marriages for the benefit of their well-to-do husbands. Daughters of
more influential nobility, and royalty went to finishing schools, like
the Trouseliak?chool of Coruscant. This was one of the oldest and
therefore most respected finishing schools of its kind. The Emperor
kindly allowed it to remain in operation after the formation of the
Empire as an example that not everything must change under his
leadership. Though usually impoverished in the wake of Imperial
expansion, most (formally) noble families would scrounge together the
scraps of their depleted fortunes to send at least one of their
daughters to the equally financially-strapped and now somewhat
deteriorated school, if for no other reason than the reputation and
respect that the mere mention of "Trouseliak?brought. Even Mara, in
her superior Imperial education knew that. A true princess of the
Empire should be sent to Trouseliak?To be sent to Geihidian meant
only one thing: Mara had offended her lord and master and was no
longer worthy of being called his "princess".

//Oh, how little you understand, little one.// The Emperor's voice
rang loud and clear, but in shock, Mara realized that his lips never
moved!

The Emperor's lips curled in a perverse grin as the realization
registered on his young ward's face.

//So surprised are you? Pity. I had expected you to ask about it when
you first came through the door like any curious child would. But you
held your tongue. You're growing up, girl.//

Aloud, Palpatine continued his discourse. "You hear and you
understand what I wish you to because we are linked little one. You
are special. And you shall be great. I will make you great. Never
doubt that. You are a Daughter of the Empire, a princess. I will
give you more power than you could ever have hoped to possess on any
dusty little back-world planet."

Mara flinched at a sudden memory of her previous dream. There was dust
in the air. . . Quickly, Palpatine continued:

"I have chosen you , Mara Jade. No one is above you in this honor,
but many are below. Would you disgrace an old man by making a mockery
of this honor with distorted visions of a dark time in your young
life?" the Emperor frowned sadly from beneath his cowl.

Mara rushed to rectify the horrible wrong she had done to her beloved
benefactor.

"Oh your Highness, I never meant to hurt your feelings! It was only a
dream! A silly, childish fancy! I am honored to have been hand-picked
by you! You are my Emperor!" The outburst was charged with the
energy of the young and the pliable. The Emperor smiled; there was
room to work with this young one yet.

"Ah, my girl, you bring warmth to this old man's heart."

Mara smiled, happy to have pleased him.

"And, as you are such a considerate little Imperial, I shall tell you
why you are being sent to the Geihidian instead of the Trouseliak?like the proper princess you are to me.

Mara returned to her invisible calm mask and listened carefully. This
was her Emperor, her wise benefactor and master, how could she ever
doubt him? He had an excellent reason for choosing the Geihidian for
her continued education, and now he would tell her. He would never do
her wrong.

"The Geihidian has a certain use. From its teachers, you will learn
the difficult art of entertaining." A wave of his hand put an end to
any protest the girl might have offered. "Entertaining is very
difficult to do properly, and I expect as good a performance from you
in that capacity as I would as a warrior. You will have need of these
skills as well when you are grown and are of use to me. Is that
understood?"

"Yes, master." She replied humbly.

"Good. You are excused to your room. You will leave at 0700. Japara
will take you. Your bags have already been packed appropriately for
you."

And with that, Mara left the Ready Room, determined to serve her
Emperor well.

The Emperor smiled. Ah the innocence of youth.

(continued in part 2)

Mara's arrival on Correlia was anything but eventful. Japara, a
member of the Royal Imperial Guard, turned Mara (identified by him as
Rone Ya-Ro, daughter of one of his personal calandras) over to the
headmistress of the Geihidian School. A member of the Royal Imperial
Guard was apparently something of a sensation, and pleasantly enough
Mara found that she was being treated as well as any princess at
Trouseliak?ight. In addition, apparently many Imperials sent their
higher slaves and daughters here, so that the school was doing better
than it had under the long-dead Galactic Republic. Thanks to her
prestige as property of a Royal Imperial Guard, Mara was given a
private room at then end of the first dormitory, and although it was
neither as spacious or as fancy as her quarters at home on Coruscant,
it was certainly better than being forced to live in the common room
with the other girls her age. They concerned her. Mara had never had
playmates. Her world was filled with Droid caretakers, and sentient
teachers and instructors who seemed almost as frightened of her as
they were of the Emperor. Mara did not giggle and chat, she gave
orders, something these girls would not tolerate, she realized.

"Fear is never an option. Fear is for the weak." Mara chanted to
herself as she unpacked her trunk. There were quite a few dresses and
other "girly" things. Mara cringed at them and altered her mantra "I
will not fail my Emperor. I will succeed. There is no room for
mistakes."

"Ya-Ro!" a stern voice echoed from the hallway.

No response.

"Ya-Ro! Identify yourself! Rone Ya-Ro!"

Oh poodoo! That's me! Thought Mara as she opened the door to her
room. "Here."

A native Correllian woman, late in her seasons, and (judging by her
considerable size) quite used to eating well, lumbered down the long
straight row between the beds of the common floor.

""Rone Ya-Ro, when you are called, you will answer. That, apparently,
is the first lesson you must learn. I am not here to yell for 10 time
marks while you daydream like a common dolt. I will not stand for it,
and neither will your master when he calls you to entertain."

Mara quelled the indignation that was rising in her throat, and
instead, answered humbly "Yes, mistress."

"Madame! All your instructors shall be addressed as Madame!
Insufferable little thing! Do you know nothing?"

Mara didn't answer, and apparently, she wasn't expected to. Madame of
the First Dormitory turned to leave, only turning back briefly to
inform Mara that her first class was in 20 time marks. After the door
closed behind her, The dorm's other occupants burst into a fit of
giggles and all eyes were on their newest bunk mate: Rone Ya-Ro, the
only girl who had managed to make a purple vein pop out on Madame's
neck before midday.

This is going to be a difficult assignment. Mara thought to herself
as she returned to her room and slammed the door behind her.

Surprisingly, Mara was well adept to the schedule. All students of
her age and rank wore the same simple azure dress and those beings
with hair wore it on top of their heads in a wide, loose bun. It
almost seemed like a uniform to her, and she liked the familiarity of
that. Mara quickly adapted to the role of "Rone", and accepted the
humiliation of being a mere servant of someone other than her Emperor
as a lesson in deception, a specialization that none of the other
girls could claim.

In addition, once she accepted the schoolwork as a mission that the
Emperor had sent her on rather than a chore, Mara found her classes to
be simple and even enjoyable. She excelled in tea ceremony and
conversation. Her table manners were already impeccable, and she was
able to catch up to and pass her peers in languages. In a very short
period of time, Rone was the darling of the school in her teachers'
eyes. Not because of who she belonged to, but because of her own
accomplishments and mastery of all she was taught. A true star.

Rone's success was not lost on her peers either. They soon became
very aware of her favored status among teachers that they had been
trying to impress for years. Many of the students had been at
Gehidian since age five or six, and this girl had been among them for
less than a term, and she dare to best them? It might not have been
so bad had she at least tried to get along. She was their junior by
experience and should have treated them with the deference they
deserved, but instead she carried herself as though she was as good as
anyone of them, perhaps better. The girl holed herself up in her room
when she wasn't in class, and barely spoke more than two curt words to
them at a time. What kind of calandra was that?

Mara was fully aware that the other girls in her dormitory avoided
her, and to be honest, she preferred it that way. They were all
stupid and inferior and spoke of frivolous things like hairstyles and
boys and the latest fashions out of Alderaan. Mara listened and
remembered all they said: which way the young princess of Alderaan
wore her dark hair and how they all wished their hair was as
beautiful; which diplomats attended which social functions on
Coruscant and how they all wanted to see the city-planet one day (Mara
smiled secretly at that: she lived on Coruscant-wouldn't they all be
jealous if they knew?), and which calandra belonged to which master.
Mara recognized some of the names, but most were unknown to her. She
made a note to herself to look them up in the Emperor's private
library when she got home.

For her part, Mara would lock herself in her room in her free time and
allow herself to become Mara Jade once more. Rone Ya-Ro belonged to
the school. Here in her room, Mara belonged to herself.

She spent her time furthering her language studies and practicing her
combat forms: no point in allowing her dexterity to slip. Besides,
when Mara made the connection between the precise hand-to-hand defense
forms and the exacting motions of the Uhari tea ceremony, she was able
to master it that much more quickly than her peers who had been
practicing since they were five! With her newly mastered skills, she
had practically been given free reign over her own activities as the
school Madams saw Rone as a well disciplined and bright calandra and
Mara learned the advantages of doing a job well for someone other than
her master.

In addition, Mara found, pleasantly enough, that the Emperor had once
again proven his infinite wisdom and care for his young charge: Mara
had not once been plagued by visions of the dream-woman since her
arrival on Correlia. In fact, she had become such a distant memory,
that Mara was sure his Highness was right; only a monster would
abandon a child. Her Emperor would never leave her, she thought with
satisfaction.

Sooner than she had expected, the term came to an end, and Mara packed
her trunk to be taken to the private docking bay. She made sure that
she packed everything. She had not been told that she would not
return to the school, but she had not been enrolled in another term
yet either (as she found out by going through the headmistress' data
pad in her office when the woman was entertaining company).

Outside in the dormitory itself, girls packed for their vacations home
and giggled as the chatted over their plans and how pleased their
masters would be when they showed off one newly learned talent or
another. Holo-addresses were exchanged and confirmed to continue the
gossip between friends even though the term break only lasted two
standard weeks. No one asked for Rone's holo-address. Mara would
have been hurt by that had she been Rone, she thought to herself, but
she wasn't Rone, at least for not much longer.

Locking her trunk and slinging her bag over her shoulder, Mara did a
quick once over of her room to make sure she hadn't left anything
behind. Satisfied with her final inspection, she turned and exited
her room into the main hall.

Outside, a house service droid awaited instructions from the daughter
of the High Duke and Duchess of Amarna, Jeynn Halnikk who was still
fussing over her voluminous, gauzy dresses. Mara had listened to her
whine and complain all morning as her father's protocol droid packed
and repacked her travel bag three times over, and her ladyship still
hadn't made a final decision. Mara quelled her curiosity as to
whether the overwrought protocol droid's head would explode if this
went on much longer and instead motioned to the school's service
droid.

"You there. I'm ready to go to the docking bay." She ordered, and
the droid beeped in compliance as it began rolling towards her.

Amazingly, Jeynn suddenly ceased her half-hysterical babble as she
turned fiercely golden eyes on Mara. "I am already using the droid,
Rone." She said evenly as the air gills near the ears of the young
semi-humanoid began to flare.

"No, you're not Jeynn. You're packing. Again. By the time my stuff
is at the loading dock, and the droid is back here, you'll be done."
Mara eyed the garments spread across her bed suspiciously, "Possibly."

"Who do you think you are talking to, calandra?" the air gills were
fully extended now and beginning to flash with tinges of blue and
orange; her frustration with her wardrobe forgotten now that she had a
better target in her sights. Mara wondered briefly if this girl had
any real fighting ability, but threw thought out the window as she
decided to find out first hand.

"You." She replied simply. It was not said with any malice, but
neither was it murmured with the deference belonging to Amarnian
nobility.

Jeynn's voice was low and tight with barely restrained rage. "How
dare you, you little low-life-know-nothing twit! You imposter!
Coming in here and acting as though you were as good as any one of us!
As good as me! You're nothing but a base calandra who is so bad at
her given profession that your master never even sent you for training
until you were too old! Education is wasted on you! You didn't even
know the basics of the galactic tea ceremony when you came! Your
mother should have known enough to train you on that! But even she
realized how worthless you were and didn't waste her time! Ha! And
you think waltzing in here with your nose in the air and your ugly
face hidden behind your private bedroom door makes you one of us?
Makes you good enough to steal a droid right out from under my chin?
You'll never be one of us, no matter how the Madams pet and compliment
you. You're nothing."

Somewhere between Jeynn's rising voice, and the word "nothing", Mara
stopped seeing her nine-year-old age mate, and just saw blinding white
rage descend in front of her eyes like a curtain. She flew forward
with a scream, arms and legs flailing as all attack training fled her
mind (luckily enough for her opponent). Jeynn, surprised at first,
held her own as she hit back with all she had and then some. The few
girls left in the room were a cacophony of frightened screams and
cheers egging the combatants on. Duke Halnikk's protocol droid made
feeble protests, but would've been ignored even if the girls had heard
him over the noise.

As the fight continued, Mara managed to rein in some of her rage and
realized the stupidity of her rashness. Fighting the daughter of
nobility was rarely recommend. And fighting an opponent who was so
obviously below her skill level was just plain embarrassing. Mara
could defeat her easily now that her wits were about her, but she was
fighting a living being, not one of the training droids, destruction
was not an option. Mara switched tactics and continued the fight so
that minimal damage would be done to the loathsome little brat. She
would not intentionally hurt Jeynn, but she wouldn't lose the battle
or concede defeat either. Mara had just yanked a hair clip from
Jeynn's head, temporarily blinding the girl with her own bluish-gray
hair when the high-pitched squeal of the Headmistress' whistle pierced
the din. Everyone froze and looked in surprise at the doorway where
the Headmistress stood. . .with the High Duke Halnikk himself.

Jeynn recovered first, standing straight and facing her father. To
her credit, she did not dissolve into mushy tears, Mara noted with
satisfaction before giving the Headmistress her full attention.

"What is going on here?!" the Headmistress practically screeched. She
almost appeared to be trembling in her shock at the disastrous scene
before her. Jeynn took the opportunity to pour out the horrible story
of how the calandra Rone, had viciously attacked her over the use of a
droid. She was an excellent storyteller and her voice trilled over
the fierceness of the battle while her hands swept back and forth in
demonstration as little lady Jeynn defended herself bravely against
the lunatic animal Rone who pounced upon her prey unprovoked. As
testimony to that, Jeynn motioned to the protocol droid who only
moaned and softly lamented its failure to protect its mistress. Mara
herself was so taken with the tale that for a moment she forgot that
she was Rone and was beginning to admire Jeynn's considerable fighting
skill. The storyteller's accusatory finger pointed in her direction
quickly brought her back to reality. Finally, Jeynn's tale at an end,
Duke Halnikk forewent the trivial formality of asking for "Rone's"
side of the story as he turned to face his daughter's attacker.

"Who do you belong to, girl?" he demanded.

Mara's blood boiled in her veins and her heart swelled with anger at
the impertinence of this relic of the old republic, this Duke. Never
before had anyone dared to speak to her in this way. Somewhere
between the humiliation and anger, Mara found her voice. With eyes of
burning emeralds and a face of barely contained rage, Mara stated
slowly and clearly, "I belong to myself."

Whatever effect she had expected the statement to have, it was not the
sudden croaking laughter of the old man as he asked "No, really.
Who?"

Mara was stunned as much at the Duke's response as at the words that
had just come from her own mouth. But the shock dissolved into
well-cultivated anger as the man's mocking voice continued. Allowing
her eyes to harden and glow green fire as her jaw and body went
battle-ready rigid, Mara repeated the blasphemous words slowly so that
there would be no misunderstanding.

"I. Belong. To. Myself."

The laughter suddenly ceased and the noble Duke's eyes hardened in
response to Mara's. Mara didn't have the chance to ask herself
whether or not she was intimidated by the figure before her. As she
watched his face quickly morph into a mask of rage, and braced herself
for whatever the coming onslaught might be, a commanding voice sliced
through the room.

"The girl belongs to me."

Mara turned quickly to see Japara approach from the doorway at the
other end of the hall. The commanding stride and bearing of a member
of the Imperial Guard quickly melting the anger on Halnikk's face, had
Mara bothered to turn and see it.

Japara continued forward both physically and verbally: "The girl is
mine. Any disruption she has caused can be discussed with me."

The noble Duke Halnikk stood in awe of the red cloaked figure. Though
not in his formal uniform and helmet, there was no mistaking the
Emperor's seal on Japara's vest, nor the distinctive cut of his claret
cloak. It was rare for an Imperial guard to be seen out of uniform,
but it did happen, and the sight was no less impressive. . .or
intimidating.

Halnikk was a proud man, but he was not stupid. His slack jaw quickly
closed itself and he remained silent. Japara cast a withering glance
in Mara's direction as though he were truly angry with her, but Mara
had forgotten Rone Ya-Ro long ago and returned the gaze. In a moment,
she could see that he really was upset with her and though she didn't
know why, tendrils and whispers of her erroneous statement moments
before echoed in her memory and stabbed straight at her mind and
heart.

Betrayer!

She had betrayed her beloved Emperor with her treacherous statement.
Thrown away the precious gift of his care and training with her
careless words. Mara's soul retched at the realization, but her face
remained impassive as Japara "dealt" with the High Duke of Amarna.
The sound of his voice was like the wordless drone of an engine deep
within the bowels of a ship as Mara's conscience slipped away from the
situation at hand even as her eyes darted between the Imperial Guard
and the Republican relic in rapt attention during the exchange. Her
focus was elsewhere.

Soon, Mara found herself following five steps behind Japara, like an
obedient, subservient calandra, with the school's service droid
carrying her trunk beside her. They arrived at the loading dock in
silence, and Mara entered the shuttlecraft after Japara while the
droid efficiently loaded the trunk in the ship's storage room.
Nothing was said until the craft's pilot got clearance to take off and
Japara had been satisfied that the appropriate course had been set so
that they would arrive back on Coruscant on schedule. It was only
then that Japara addressed the Emperor's ward who had taken her
position by one of the few, small view ports that dotted the hull of
the craft.

"Quite an interesting day, Mara." He said solemnly.

Mara started at the use of her true name, but quickly recovered,
hoping that the weakness hadn't been noticed by one who would report
directly to Palpatine. She turned towards him and replied with equal
tone: "It was as interesting as interesting goes in such a boorish
place."

Short and to the point, Japara thought, but the twitch the girl had
made did not go unnoticed to his trained eye. What Emperor Palpatine
was doing with a jumpy little ward that was to be trained as an
entertainer was beyond his understanding, but then, it was not his
place to question his Emperor. Not his place at all. He turned and
took his leave of the girl to attend to more important matters with no
word of "goodbye". She was just a child after all, and a servant
below him, he was sure. There was no need for formality. He was
merely the babysitter.

If she took offence, the girl didn't show it. She had other things on
her mind. Thoughtful green eyes returned to the view port. In a
short while she would have to face her lord and master. In a short
while, he would know, somehow, of her temporary disloyalty. He would
know that she had failed him, and it made Mara heartsick. What made
it worse was the momentary feeling of confidence and strength those
four careless words had given her. It was proof in her mind that she
was not worthy of serving her Emperor.

Mara stared blankly out at the vast expanse of space; her earlier
words echoing empty and hollow in her brain.

"I belong to myself."

She had almost believed it.

Almost.

The End

Here is Ye olde third installment of my young Mara series. Is part 4
anywhere to being done you ask? *turns to Crysta* Crysta, have I
e-mailed you anything to beta for me lately? *Crysta shakes her head
"no", obviously annoyed*. There you have it folks, it's not even in
the beta stage yet. But still, this fic ain't so bad.

--Chris
*******************************************************************
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Any and all things Star Wars belong to George Lucas and I
do this in fun. I'm not makin' a dime off of this. My story belongs
to me.
Series: Stolen Innocence
Other Stories in the Series: For My Emperor, Belong
Summary: Mara returns to Coruscant and her Emperor certain that a few
careless words have destroyed her future. Sequel to Belong.
Author's Notes: Thank you to my beloved betas Crysta, GillPicard,
Sulis, Andorus, and Zab?Without you, my shortcomings (as few as
they are ;-) ) would be out there for all the net to see.
People, I thrive on comments. Please let me know what you think. The
rest of this series may not get written anytime soon otherwise. (Yes,
I'm serious.)
*****************************************
Forgiven

By Pseudo Psyche

Mara stepped from the shuttlecraft ahead of Japara in the Emperor's
private docking bay on Coruscant. She wished she could say that it
was good to be home again, and in a way it was. She had had plenty of
time in the cold of space to think of her actions and words while
traveling from Corellia to Coruscant, and she had come to a
conclusion: she was as devoted to her Emperor as ever. But the guilt
from the scene at the Geihidian still lingered.

In her mind, the scene had become known as The Betrayal:

"I belong to myself."

What had she been thinking? How could she have been so stupid? As
the hiss of the repulsor lifts died down behind her and she obediently
followed Japara, now fully clad in his Guardsman uniform and helmet,
out of the landing bay.
To any of the Imperials they were passing, Mara was a common sight: a
young girl with a quick pace and a determined visage that made her
look much older than her nine years. Her presence among them, when
seen, was no longer considered unusual, and as always, was
unquestioned. The girl was walking behind an Imperial Guard with
determination that could not quite be called submissive despite the
traditional position of a servant.

The passageway outside the hanger leading to the restricted area that
was the Emperor's Private Receiving Quarters for more intimate
meetings was sparsely populated with higher-level officers immersed in
the duties of the Emperor. They walked briskly and coolly by the
Royal Guardsman and Mara while they attended to the service of the
Empire.

Secretly, Mara wondered if they could feel the shame radiating from
her, but outwardly, she emulated their pace and bearing and decided
that she wouldn't further disgrace her caretaker by any display of
weakness. Now was the time to face the music and take her punishment.

Emperor Palpatine had been informed when the shuttle had landed, and
Japara had received instructions to go directly to the Emperor's
Waiting Room with the child. So there was no wait when they reached
the door; it slid open immediately and Japara entered with Mara behind
him.

Mara stepped into the Ready Room much as she had months before when
she had last seen her benefactor. There was the same sense of dread
of rejection now as when Mara felt the last time with one difference.
Mara knew this time what her transgression was.
The cool, quiet, sterile environment that Mara had always drawn a
sense of familial comfort and security from failed to sooth her this
day. Nothing could ally her fears, and they were fears regardless of
what Mara told herself, that this was the end of the line for her.
Her thoughtless words would cut her off from the only one who had
cared for her all these years. Mara shuddered involuntarily.

Emperor Palpatine stood behind his chair at the head of the elaborate
table. His cowl hid his face, as was his custom, and for the first
time in her young life, it provided a sense of foreboding to the girl.

Japara, Royal Guardsman, took a few steps into the room and stopped
abruptly at attention. Mara followed his example and stood besides
him. No matter what the Imperials out in the hallway and hanger
thought, in here, before her Emperor, Mara Jade was not some easily
dismissable child, the responsibility of and subservient to the
Guardsman who she followed in here just now. And Mara was going to
fully enjoy the perks of her position these last few moments if she
had any say about it.

She stood before her Emperor and waited for Japara to give her away
and the punishment to begin.

The Emperor nodded in their direction. "Guardsman, you are
dismissed."
Japara turned and left without a word.

Mara's fear and tension almost choked her now; it would have been
easier for someone else to tell on her. She hadn't counted on having
to tell on herself, but apparently that was what was expected of her.
Mara had no doubt that Emperor Palpatine knew what she had done. He
always seemed to know. From the hidden observation room adjoined to
this one, she had seen Imperial officers and galactic senators cower
in his presence just from the sense of doom that permeated the room
without a word being spoken. Mara would not allow such a pitiful
state to befall her now. She stood straight and silent as she waited
for her own fate.

"Sit, Mara." Palpatine commanded, his voice betraying nothing.

As Mara approached the table, she noticed the traditional tea setting
of the Kynrie that recently become in vogue in the Imperial court and
that she had mastered better than the majority of her peers at school.
She silently took her seat and with her eyes appropriately downcast
in the manner of a properly bred calandra, and placed her right hand
delicately on the slate gray pot handle once the Emperor had sat in
his own chair. Careful not to spill a drop, Mara began to pour the
fragrant tea into the Emperor's mug. The movements were precise and
automatic, but more with a sense of contrition than she would normally
show. With her crime biting at the back of her conscience, Mara felt
rather small.

"You are rather quiet, child." The Emperor commented.

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Are you well?" The Emperor's voice hinted at false interest, as
though he already knew the answer and were only baiting her. Mara had
seen the tactic used to lure many an opponent into a false sense of
security. She wasn't biting.

"Yes, Your Highness." She replied curtly.

The Emperor leaned back in his chair and placed his fingertips lightly
on the edge of the table before he replied. "Good, good."

Mara endured the silence that followed as Palpatine sipped his tea by
focusing on the polished stone tabletop in front of her. The slate
gray swirled with white chaotically. It was like the heart of an
electrical storm, and oddly enough, it brought the girl a strange
sense of comfort, ironically understanding her silent plight. Her
focus on one blank spot in the stone deepened while she waited.

"So, your time at the Gehidian was well spent?" the Emperor asked
suddenly.

Mara came back to reality, mentally using several colorful Huttese
metaphors to express her annoyance at her own stupidity. Rule one:
Always be aware of where you are.

"Yes, Your Excellency. I used the time there learning how to better
serve you." The girl replied, hoping it was the correct response.

The Emperor did not comment further, nor did he move, and his cowl hid
his face from her. She waited.

Mara had prepared herself for the moment when she would be cast from
her Emperor's presence, but this wasn't right. It wasn't what she had
expected. Everything was too calm, too methodical. Mara never
realized before how much she admired that about her benefactor. Her
stomach twisted just a bit more, she didn't know what she would do
without his constant guidance and approval. Mara continued to wait in
the deafening silence with her chin held with just a bit of pride.

And then, the storm broke.

From the corner of the room, Mara caught the hint of movement. In the
far corner, a small, gray, airborne droid, the size and shape of an
utball hovered behind a planted ch'hala tree. It took only a moment
for Mara to realize that it's shape conformed to an Assassination
Droid, and, what was worse, it had it's blaster cross-hairs aligned on
her benefactor. An instant later, she leapt from her chair and faced
the unwelcome intruder, upsetting the delicate teapot and spilling its
contents on the table. The Assassination Droid, true to its
programming, ignored her and went straight for it's target, the only
other person in the room. The Emperor never moved as his eminent death
approached. Mara was not as inclined to such passivity and used her
recently vacated chair as a step to get on the table and leap across
it to tackle the machine.

In hindsight, this may not have been the best move. If Mara had
blinked at the wrong moment, all Sith Hells would have broken loose.
Assassination Droids may focus solely on their target, but they will
also dispose of any obstacle with just as much brutal efficiency as
they do their intended victim. Not to mention the fact that Mara had
no weapons on her. An error that she realized all too late.

Grabbing the sleek, floating droid in mid-leap, Mara pulled it close
to her chest and held on tight as her right shoulder slammed into the
wall opposite her. Ignoring the sudden pop numbness in her arm, she
held the machine away from her body as she slid to the floor and tried
to pull the electrical drive lines from their sockets, only to find
that one arm wasn't cooperating and the other one was all that was
keeping her from being terminated right there. Mara had hit the wall
harder than she had intended to, and as the first wave of nausea
flowed over her, she realized that the impact had injured her right
arm, which throbbed with pain.

With one arm damaged, Mara's only hope was to stave off attack one
handed. The droid's blaster would fire once and then self-destruct;
taking the droid with it, but it could still defend itself against
attack.

Rather than firing on Mara and missing the true mark, it's metal armor
began to heat up, first with prickly, electrical bursts, and then
steadily began getting hotter, shooting fiery pain up the girl's good
arm. If she held on much longer, her major organs would be fried and
the droid would be free. If she let go, her Emperor would be killed.
Mara was at a loss of what to do.

Mara began to curse her own stupidity and lack of training when
suddenly the droid ceased all activity and fell cold and still from
her aching palm.

Mara looked from the droid to her master, still seated in his chair.

"Tell me, girl, what is the meaning of this?" The Emperor began in a
deadly tone.

Still feeling small, and now utterly humiliated sprawled on the floor
with two aching, useless arms, Mara answered with just the barest
tremble in her voice. "The droid was coming after you. You were in
danger, my master."

"And did you not think that I was capable of taking care of a pitiful
little droid?" The reproach was heavy in his voice. Shame now burned
on her face.

"No, Master." She whispered, her head held down.

"What?"

Mara raised her head slightly so she could look up at the Emperor. And
answered more loudly, "No, Master."

"Then why did you rush at it and not only injure yourself, but make a
fool of me?" disapproval still permeated his voice.

"I'm sorry, Master. My only thought was to protect you." Came Mara's
hopeless reply

"Why?"

"Because you are my master. I serve you. I. . .I didn't think."

The Emperor's voice came soft, almost pitying. "No, child you didn't
think. There seems to be a lot of that going around lately."

Mara looked away in self-reproach.

"Child, look at me." The Emperor commanded. Mara obeyed and he
continued.

"Actions speak louder than words. You are my loyal subject. I know
that. And now you do too."

The realization of the test she had just been put through and her
success of passing it dawned on the girl suddenly. Rather than berate
her on her foolish comment at the school, the Emperor had shown her
what she already knew, she belonged to her Emperor.
The Emperor stood and held the girl by the shoulder. The electricity
that passed through her stung, and she winced at the pain, but when it
was over, she was able to lift herself off the floor using her stiff,
and still aching arms.

Palpatine returned to his chair, and Mara returned to hers, ignoring
the spilled tea that had run in a rivulet to the opposite side of the
table. She kept her face steady as she adjusted the position of her
injured arms next to her body. The Emperor did not ignore her effort
though.

"It will take a few days of rest for your arms to completely heal." He
said.

Mara grimaced slightly, she hated waiting around, useless.

"Oh, but you'll have things to do." The Emperor continued, as though
reading her mind, "I expect you to research effective methods of
disposing of Assassination Droids in my library."

"I will not fail you again, my master." Mara said, some of her old
spark back in her proudly held chin.

"I know, child. Which is why, when you've recovered, you begin your
new phase of training with this." He smiled. "Consider it a
Get-Well-Soon gift."

From his robe, Emperor Palpatine produced a metal cylinder about 28
centimeters in length and placed it on the table horizontally in front
of Mara.

Without picking it up, Mara observed that it was a tool of some kind
with a rubberized grip and a button. At its base were two deep gouges
that were obviously not part of the original design. Whatever it was,
it was second-hand and well used. Mara wondered at it's past owner
and if the violent-looking scratches had anything to do with the loss
of ownership. A perturbing sense of awe came over the girl as she
stared at the object. Despite its harmless appearance, this was
something powerful indeed.

"What is it?" she queried.

The Emperor's response was simple as he watched the girl closely from
under his hood.

"It's a lightsabre. A powerful weapon from a more brutal age."

Mara placed her right hand on the handle and a sudden sense of the
red-haired woman from the dusty planet flashed in her brain and was
gone. Mara started at the sense as if in pain, and hoped her liege
thought she was reacting to the prick of discomfort she felt as her
still-sore fingers closed around the cylinder. He made no comment as
she held it away from her body and pressed the button.

A humming blade shot from the hilt and glowed magenta in front of her.
She meant to try it out a bit, but she was already fatigued with the
strain of holding it steady, and shut it down a moment later.
Practice would come in a few days, as her master had said.

"Thank you my master. I appreciate your kindness." She said.

"This is a weapon, not kindness, girl. I expect you to use it well."
Said Palpatine sternly.

"Yes, Master."

He nodded and dismissed her to her room to recuperate.

As Mara left and the door closed behind her, she rubbed her
dully-throbbing shoulder with her free hand and stared at her new
acquisition in her other. She was sore all over and wanted nothing
more than to reach her quarters so she could sit down with a bacta
pack and maybe get something for the pain. Her sore limbs were the
only thing keeping her from walking briskly down the hall in relief.
Things had gone much better than she expected. She still belonged to
her Emperor.

Mara was glad.

The End