Here's my first fic on this group. English
is not my native language, so please have mercy and tolerate my
grammar. Feedback is ever welcome.

...............

"Here to learn" (1/?)

Disclaimer: George L. owns everything, I own nothing. I'm not writing
this to make any money, but solely for my private fun as a fan.

Rating: PG-13 (with a view to the future installments, it's pretty
harmless yet)

Place in the Timeline: during the time of the Jedi Academy trilogy
(I'm basically giving you some extra scenes with the L&M interaction
that I would have loved to read about, but KJA didn't bother to write
about.)

Long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

It was somewhat past midnight according to Yavin IV time. Luke was
sitting on the rooftop of the Great Temple to meditate. His times of
meditation had always been a precious refuge to him - they were the
times when it was just him and the Force, when he seemed to dive into
a crystal clear lake of serenity. But since his experience with the
dark side during the days of the Emperor reborn, they were also times
when so many pictures came to him, pictures that were locked in his
mind as if etched in with acid... Leia's eyes as he raised the sword
against her... Himself, kneeling before the Emperor, his black cloak
flowing onto the floor like a dark puddle spreading around him.
Saying: "My father's destiny is also mine."... His father... Darth
Vader standing on the gantry on Bespin, stretching out his
hand: "Join me...". The last glance from his dying father's eyes -
"Tell your sister you were right.". Thanking him for having redeemed
him; not knowing that his son wouldn't be able to redeem himself, not
knowing that the Emperor that he had killed would return, and return
again. ... Himself, standing defiantly before the Emperor: "I will
never turn to the dark side ... I am a Jedi, like my father before
me.". His "never", the "never" for which the Emperor had tried to
kill him, causing his father to sacrifice his own life so that he
could live, that "never" had lasted a mere 6 years...
And in the darkest recesses of his mind, there was the memory of the
part in him that enjoyed being called "*Lord* Skywalker", enjoyed the
knowledge that he had been given *power*. Yes, at least in the
beginning he had used the power to sabotage the Emperor's efforts,
but still...

(To be continued...)

Thanks to those who gave feedback reg. the first part. I know it was
short for a chapter, but it was not the whole first chapter, more
like the first part of the first chapter.

So here's more of it.

Disclaimer: I don't own SW; I'm not making money from this.

Summary of the beginning: Luke being haunted by memories of his stint
on the dark side.

.........................

//To say that I haven't earned the best credentials as a Jedi would
be an understatement//, Luke thought. (Feeling too uneasy to continue
meditating, he had decided to just sit and think.) //But yet here I
am, trying to teach others how to be Jedi.//

But who else was there to do it? Ever since Yoda's passing, Luke had
always remembered the Jedi Master saying to him: "...last of Jedi you
will be. Pass on what you have learned.". How could he have disregard
his Master's last wish? Luke shivered as another memory surfaced
within him: Once in a quiet moment, he had asked Master Yoda why Obi-
Wan had taken on Darth Vader as his apprentice. Yoda hadn't been
willing to say much, just like always when he had asked about Vader -
or Anakin Skywalker, for that matter. He had simply replied that Obi-
Wan had accepted this apprentice because it had been the last thing
that his beloved Master Qui-Gon Jinn had asked of him as he died, and
therefore Kenobi had considered it his sacred duty to do so.

Luke asked himself - not for the first time - whether he was
unknowingly bringing on a disaster just as Obi-Wan had been. After
all, the lastest events pointed into that direction. Gantoris'
horrible death, and Kyp vanishing after showing signs of being in
trouble with the dark side. He didn't know whether or not he would be
able to protect the remainder of his apprentices. But yet *he had* to
protect them and lead them, keeping them safe from the dark side and
the despair that it brought; which was why he couldn't and wouldn't
share his deepest concerns with them, even though having no-one to
share the burden made it all the more heavier.

Sensing a slight ripple in the Force that announced the presence of
someone else, Luke turned around and saw Mara standing close behind
him. As her steps were very quiet - a trait that stemmed from her
training as an assassin - he hadn't heard her approaching.

"Hey, what are you doing here at this time of night?", she asked. "I
was meditating a little", Luke replied. "For your spiritual
development? Or because you couldn't sleep?", Mara asked in the
slightly sarcastic tone that she had brought to perfection. The
latter was true, but Luke was not going to tell Mara that - he knew
that it would only result in further questions that he would feel
even less comfortable answering. "Actually, for a Jedi it's possible
to diminish the need for sleep to a great degree. But why are *you*
here at this time? Do you find it difficult to sleep yourself?" "Does
that surprise you?", Mara snapped back, "After all, I'm the one whose
ship has been stolen by your runaway apprentice.". "So you're only
worried about your Headhunter? What about spending just one thought
on Kyp, or do people not count in your equation?" Mara fumed: "Yes, I
*am* worried about what Kyp might do to my ship! *And* about what he
might do to himself. I mean, what do you think?". Her anger being
spent for the moment, she added more quietly: "Actually, it's not
just what has happened. It's also that I can feel something in this
place that's *not right*. It's not a distinct presence, not something
I could pinpoint, but it's there. Maybe it has something to do with
this place being an ancient Sith temple, I dunno."

Luke sighed. //So Mara is feeling it, too.// Carefully trying to
maintain his composure, he said: "It hasn't just been a Sith temple.
It has also been an important place in my life.". "Yeah, I know. When
it was a Rebel base." Luke nodded. "Tomorrow I'll show you
something." "Tomorrow? Why not today?" "Because it's in Corran's
room, and we don't want to wake him. - But there *is* something I can
best show you at night, so if you're up to it..." "Might as well.",
Mara replied. They headed downwards.

(To be continued)

Hello!

Here it is, the new chapter. *Much* thanks to my wonderful beta
Sienn! :-))

Background to this chapter: It's during the time of "Dark
Apprentice", after Kyp has run away but before he has returned to
attack Luke alongside the ghost of Exar Kun. To refresh your memory
in regards with the last two installments (for those who want to read
them again, the message numbers were 12882 & 12893): Luke had been
sitting on the Great Temple's roof at night trying to meditate but
not really being able to because he had all kinds of terrible
memories coming up that had to do with his time on the Dark Side.
Then Mara came up and they had a short exchange where they talked
about being concerned about Kyp and the looming threat from the Dark
Side that they could both feel. After that, they went down from the
roof together because Luke wanted to show something to Mara "that can
be best shown at night".

Disclaimers still apply as usual; the rating for the whole fic is PG-
13.
_____________

"Here to learn" (3/?)

Without a word, Luke led Mara through the temple. As they entered a
tunnel, he pulled out a glowstick, but Mara gestured to him to put it
away again. Moving in the dark had been part of her training under
Palpatine.

They walked down the ancient pathway. Even though Luke knew the way,
going it in complete darkness was a different experience for him. He
and Mara both felt awed about entering the deep, dark womb of the
moon that had been there long, long before them, and had remained
unaffected by all that had happened on the surface during thousands
of years. None of them dared to break the silence, until the tunnel
ended before what seemed like a solid stone wall.

Mara examined the wall with her senses and through the Force. "It's a
door, isn't it?", she whispered to Luke. "Good observation", he
replied, his approving smile invisible in the darkness. He worked a
hidden switch, making the stone panel slide inside. The two walked on
through a path that curved slightly to the left, then widened and
ended in an underground grotto.

In there, it was hot and humid and smelled of sulfur. The stones were
warm, too, and moist with condensation that had formed on them like
many beads of sweat. When Mara drew a deep breath, she felt the acrid
air burn in her throat. At first, there seemed to be only pitch-black
darkness; but Mara's sharp eyes adapted to it very quickly, and she
noticed that there was a tiny opening in the stone ceiling which
admitted some dim starlight that allowed her to make out her
surroundings.

Most of the grotto was filled by a pool of water that was dimly lit
by the glow of the algae in it, but still seemed dark and deep,
perhaps as deep as the moon itself. Steam rose from its surface, and
glittering bubbles arose in the water as lively as if the pool was an
animate being.

"Mineral spring?", Mara said. "Yes. The water is very good for your
muscles and bones." "You've brought me all the way here just to take
a *bath*?", Mara asked incredulously, with a slightly mocking
undertone. Luke stayed serious. "The warm water will help us relax,
which will help us to attune ourselves to the Force. So this is
actually a serious exercise. We're here to learn after all." "We? As
in "you included"?" Mara's incredulous tone became just a hint more
sarcastic; and if there would have been more light, Luke would have
seen the raised eyebrow and the fire-spitting green eyes which were
her trademark.

On the inside, however, she felt uneasy; realizing that
the "relaxing" that Luke had just spoken about was a weak area of
hers, one that she hadn't really been aware of before. As the
Emperor's Hand, she had learned to be on guard and react quickly,
more quickly than anyone else. Even when woken up at 3 a.m., she
would immediately snap into an alertness that few people were capable
of. But *relaxing*, being at ease when the need for attention wasn't
there; that was another thing, one that hadn't been part of her
training.

Mara didn't like it when anyone discovered a weakness in her.
Especially when she hadn't been aware of that weakness herself. *And
especially when it was Luke.* The Jedi Master, however, stayed calm
and matter-of-factly. "Yes, me included. The teacher can learn as
much from the students as vice versa. - But enough talking. Get into
the water."

Mara took off her boots and stuck a foot into the water, slowly,
hesitatingly. Luke was puzzled. "C'mon, you don't wanna go in there
with your clothes on, do you?" No, Mara didn't want that, but... "It's
all right, I'm not looking. And besides, there's not enough light to
see by anyhow." "So? Didn't you teach us yesterday that a Jedi
doesn't need his eyes to see?" "Well, if you see it from this angle,
then I could see through your clothes, too, so..."

"Skywalker!" Luke couldn't see Mara's face in the darkness, but then
he didn't need to see it to know that Mara was fuming. Why in the
world did he let such a remark slip out? He had insulted her, and he
knew it. "Mara, *I'm sorry*. Sometimes I say stupid things. And as
for being able to see through your clothes - I never tried such a
thing, and neither do I want to. So please calm down and get into the
water now."

"All right.", Mara said, her anger gradually subsiding, "But may I
say that for someone I wanted to kill not too long ago, you're
testing your luck quite a bit?" "There is no luck, only the will of
the Force.", Luke retorted in a lighthearted attempt to have the last
word, feeling relieved that he hadn't made Mara totally
uncomfortable. As Mara slipped out of her clothes with her natural
grace, he indeed saw only a shadow in the corner of his eyes.

Mara lowered herself into the pool. The warm, bubbly water felt
excitingly wonderful on her skin, like nothing she had experienced
before. Noticing how easy it was to float in the water, she spread
out her arms and looked up towards the stars that were visible
through the opening in the ceiling.

When she lifted her head again and looked into Luke's direction, he
had already slipped out of his clothes and into the water without
even making a ripple. "Like it?", he gently asked. "Yes. It's
unusual - but it's good. Is it save to put your head under
water?" "Sure.", Luke replied, "You can even *drink* the water if you
like to. It tastes a bit weird, but it's really healthy."

Thus assured, Mara let herself sink under the surface, relishing the
water's warm embrace while her hair floated upwards with bubbles
playing in it. She took her time, and only when the need for air
started to make her feel uncomfortable did she come up again. "Mmmh,
that's special.", she admitted. "The Emperor had spa pools in his
palace; but they were just artificial, nothing like here. And of
course I wasn't allowed to use them." "The Emperor didn't allow you
much leisure or fun at all, I suppose?" "I didn't *want* much.
Sometimes I was allowed a few days off in between assignments, then I
would hit a cantina or something. Simple pleasures, you know? I was
all right for me, I didn't know any different."

Luke could easily relate. It was a thing that he and Mara had in
common in terms of their background. On the moisture farms of
Tatooine, it was considered normal that 12-year-olds already had to
work as hard as adults; and even though it had never been spoken out
loud, Luke had always felt that with his being only a foster son,
Uncle Owen had expected him to work even harder to earn his place in
the family. Leisure time had been a rare thing in his youth; and he
had also spent it with simple pleasures, like hot-rodding his
treasured landspeeder or hunting womp rats in Beggar's Canyon.

"But for someone with little practice, you can relax just fine.",
Luke said to Mara. "Yeah, I'm learning!", she replied with a little
laugh that Luke had never before heard from her, but instantly found
charming. Then she again sprawled out her limbs, relaxing and
enjoying it. Floating in the warm water, Luke now relaxed himself
also, letting his consciousness spread out through the Force. With
the presence of that consciousness, like with an invisible hand, he
gently touched the bubbling water, the air, brushed against the
smooth stones, against Mara's body... Her *naked* body.

In a split second, Luke sensed that Mara likewise felt that touch and
drew his presence back in - but too late. "Skywalker! What is
*this*?!" "I'm sorry, it wasn't intentional! Mara, please..." Mara had
moved backwards, irritated. Her ire seemed to fill the air like so
many fiery sparks. "I'm really sorry, please..." And Luke meant it. The
last thing he had intended was to disturb Mara. After the first
moment, she felt that he meant it, too; and slowly allowed herself to
relax again.

The next minutes were spent in silence, leaving Luke time to think.
Why had Mara reacted so strongly? And why had she been that shy about
taking her clothes off? After all, to Luke, Mara had always made the
impression of someone who felt very comfortable in her body; her
movements having the primeval grace of a beautiful forest
animal. //But then, I shouldn't be surprised. With her looking the
way she does, she's probably always gotten a lot of attention from
men; possibly more than she wanted to get.//

Luke recalled how he had seen Mara in the guise of a dancer in
Jabba's palace. He knew that his sister remembered being forced into
the position of Jabba's dancing girl slave as the worst humiliation
she had ever been subjected to. And the dancing costume of "Arica"
had been just as revealing as Leia's. What must it have meant for
Mara to be put on display in such a way, having to perform sensual
dances for all the lewd scum headed by the fat, drooling Hutt crime
lord himself?

Luke also remembered about Mara telling him that most of the few
Imperials who had known her had thought that she was "just a
courtesan". He had seen some of Palpatine's concubines on Byss and
remembered how these women had seemed to him as if they were empty
shells, already dead on the inside; and having seen that, he didn't
have to wonder much about what treatment they had been subjected to
by the Emperor.

Even if Mara never had to actually perform that kind of "services" -
her function had been a different one after all - just the *thought*
that she was one of those who performed them would have caused
people, especially men, to look at her in a way that wasn't exactly
respectful.

Had Mara sensed something in him, something that he hadn't been aware
of himself, that had reminded her of these unpleasant experiences?
Luke knew that despite of all his Jedi self-control, he was not
beyond carnal desire. But Mara? Not that he hadn't noticed that she
was alluringly beautiful; but he had never let his thoughts dwell on
that fact. After all, he was well aware of the nature of their
relationship, which was still more truce than friendship; and a shaky
truce at that. It was enough of a miracle that she had agreed to come
to him for Jedi training. He just couldn't afford to allow himself
any feelings that would jeopardize the hard-won trust between them.
Provided he even *had* such feelings. //But if it's true that she has
lost her trust in men, I would be glad if I could help her regain
that trust.//, Luke thought within a corner of his mind.

In the meantime, Mara was alone with her own thoughts; although she
felt too bewildered to think clearly. As audacious as the touch of
Luke's invisible "hand" had been in her books, it had felt
*pleasant*, bringing with it, like a warm and tender glow, the
promise of closeness. Closeness she feared. She didn't admit that
even to herself, though; and didn't understand just why she had felt
so shy. She wasn't prudish, after all. Working as the Emperor's
secret agent, she had used her body as a bait whenever necessary; and
during those rare leisure hours that she had mentioned, she had also
had lovers for her private pleasure. //But nothing too close or too
complicated.// //Not like it would be with Luke//, a voice from a
deeper level of her consciousness added. With Luke, who would want
her mind, body and soul; as she knew within the deepest recesses of
her heart, though her mind did not.

Luke was the first to break the silence. "Relax some more, Mara.
You're still a bit wound up." //As if *you* didn't have anything to
do with that!//, Mara thought, but sensing Luke's innocent
friendliness, she decided she might as well be friendly herself. "So
this is the `serious exercise' part?" "Yes. And I want you to
approach it with concentration," Luke said calmly and gently.

"Relax. Breathe. Feel your breath. Feel the Force. Open up. Expand.
Flow with the Force." Luke's gentle voice was pleasant, soothing; as
was the warm water. Relaxing more and more, Mara felt her body's
boundaries dissolve; until there was no more body, just the water and
her breath. And within her breath, there was the Force; her breath
*was* the Force, and the Force was her.

And because the water was woven into the Force, she was also the
water. She could feel every rising bubble, every tiny ripple. She
could sense all living entities in the grotto pool, down to the
tiniest bacteria. She felt them living, dying, being born; and it was
her who lived and died and was reborn every moment.

Then she sent her consciousness further downwards, all the way down
into the depths of the moon which seem themselves alive in their own
way, ever in motion with volcanic activity and other, slower
movements which could only be measured in terms of millennia, but
still existed; and still were palpable to Mara, for now she *was* the
moon, was rock, ages old, unshakable.

After what could have been minutes or centuries - for time didn't
matter in that realm - she surfaced from the depth again and turn
upwards. Her skull split open to let pure light stream in (or pour
out?); the stone ceiling split open; and she found herself floating
upwards and expanding all over the jungle, feeling it awaken in the
almost invisible first tinges of dawn.

Soft, orange morning light from the rising gas giant; then suddenly -
a piece of darkness, a shadow like an ugly spot of spilled black
paint. Mara recoiled instinctively. //NO!// - //But he can't get
here. Not yet.// She didn't know whether those were Luke's or her
thoughts; but she instantly knew they were true. //He can't get here
yet.// And the darkness was gone, like a bad smell in the room
vanishes when you open the window and let in fresh air.

Floating freely and joyously again, she hovered over the jungle, over
the moon, over the Yavin system, over the entire galaxy. She could
feel every single star; young stars just born, lying in their
luminous nebulae cradles; dying stars; countless systems, known and
unknown, each teeming with life. The whole galaxy was within her; she
*was* the whole galaxy; and simultaneously, inexplicably, she was
still Mara Jade.

Then she felt Luke beside her - or rather, his life essence,
his "Lukehood", so to speak - and realized that he had been coming
with her during all of her journey. They both reached out
simultaneously and made contact, like touching each others hands,
though there was no such thing as a physical hand on the level they
were on. Just a short touch it was, hardly more than brushing against
each other; but Mara was amazed at how quickly their individual
vibrations adapted to each other (or maybe had always matched?). She
felt his life essence vibrate in unison with hers, separated, yes,
but the barrier seemed not thicker than a fine silk veil; and she
knew that with one more little push, the veil would vanish, and just
as she was one with the galaxy, she would be one with Luke. One with
Luke. //NO!// Again, she did not know if it came just from her, or
from both of them; but that sudden upsurge of fear and resistance was
enough to send them both back into the confines of their bodies and
their usual consciousness.

The sudden transition wasn't painful though; and Mara and Luke both
emerged from their meditation feeling profoundly refreshed. Mara
opened her eyes, not remembering when she had closed them. "Hey, can
you take me on a trip like that again some time?" "I didn't *take*
you, Mara," Luke replied. "You were able to do this all by yourself -
well, yourself and the Force, actually." "Wow!" "Does that mean you
liked it?" "Sure I liked it!", Mara replied. "It was better than
sex!" Luke blushed and averted his face as she mentioned the
word "sex". Good thing for him that the grotto was too dark for Mara
to see it, otherwise she would have derived great amusement from his
reaction; even though she was embarrassed about her words herself,
albeit for a different reason. What kind of behavior was that for a
cool, worldly ex-Emperor's Hand smuggler - to get all excited about
something and *show it*?

As they were already on their way back, Luke asked a question that
was more difficult for him to utter, though he felt he had
to: "During the whole thing, did you ever feel something like a
darkness?" "Yes," Mara said with a slight shudder. "But I also felt
that he can't get to where we are. Not yet, anyhow." Dread crept into
Luke's heart - "Are you sure it was a `he'? Not just an `it'?" "No,"
she replied with certainty. "It was a *he*." Luke remained silent. He
had felt the same; but he would not say it. No reason to get Mara as
worried as he was. She was his student, after all; and it was his
duty to protect her. Protect her from what he feared, if he could;
and from his fear as well.

When they came back up into the temple, they encountered Corran Horn,
who was notorious as an early riser. "Good morning, Keiran.", Luke
greeted him with a smile. "Do you mind if Mara and I come into your
room for a minute?" "Not at all.", Corran replied. "Mara and I have
an appointment anyhow." "Appointment?" "Oh, yeah, we're going off
into the jungle together." Was it just Mara's imagination, or did she
see a frown appear on Luke's face? A frown of *what* - jealousy? She
had no time to figure that out, though, for that expression vanished
after a split second and Luke replied, smiling: "Ah yes, for your
morning run, isn't it?"

Then they walked into the room. Mara noticed with some appreciation
that Corran had kept it neat and clean, just as she kept hers. She
asked: "So, what's the thing in here you wanted to show me?" Luke
pointed to a certain stone block that was rather close to the
floor. "See what's scratched in on this one?" Mara crouched down to
read the inscription. "'The Empire or Us - there is no compromise.
Biggs Darklighter, Wedge Antilles, Jek Porkins.' - Two of them are
dead." With a wistful glance, Luke replied: "Yes. You know, people
think that I must be feeling great about being the person who managed
to blow up the Death Star. But I am thinking of all the people who
died out there so that I could get through and fire those torpedoes."

Mara realized that it had never occurred to her to see it from that
angle. Within the culture of the Empire, which was what she had grown
up with, TIE pilots and stormtroopers had always been considered
expendable resources. She knew that in the Rebel Alliance, there had
been a different set of values; but now she realized for the first
time how much Luke had cared about the people he had seen die during
those years of war - how much he cared about people, period. Not
really knowing what to say, Mara commented: "Well, I suppose most
great achievements are made by a team effort." "Your work must have
mostly been a solitary one, though." Mara shook her head in
disagreement. "The Smugglers' Alliance *is* a team. And besides,
what's so bad about solitary work?" "More than you think. Solitude is
good if it helps you to find yourself and gain insight, but not as an
end in itself. Cutting oneself off from others leads to the dark
side."

Mara said nothing, the thoughtful expression on her face giving no
hint as to which thoughts were behind it. Then she changed the
subject: "Did you also leave an inscription somewhere in here?" "No.
I guess back then I didn't feel like I had to leave a record of my
name because I expected to come back alive. When you're twenty years
old, you still feel like you're immortal." "And when did you lose
that feeling?" Luke remained silent for a moment, pressing his lips
together until they became a thin line, his eyes narrowing and
darkening. "About the same time I lost my hand, I guess." He shook
his head, as if to shake out the thoughts. After a sigh, he glanced
towards Mara, and then towards Corran, who was still standing in the
door jamb. "Well, the two of you want to go, don't you?" "That's
right, we shouldn't lose the best part of the day," Corran
said. "Just my words," Mara agreed. She walked outside with him,
ready to greet the jungle that lay misty in the first morning light,
like someone just awakened who yet has to rub the sleep from his
eyes.

Looking towards the sky, they saw the light of Yavin's sun being
shattered into myriads of rainbows by the ice crystals that had
formed in the moon's atmosphere during the cold hours of night. It
was a natural phenomenon that recurred every morning, but they never
failed to feel awed by seeing it. Especially not Mara, who had grown
up on Coruscant, where there was no uncluttered sky to be seen at
all.

Corran and Mara prepared themselves with a few stretches; then
started off on their run, moving along the paths that were hardly
paths at all, just tiny little cracks in the thick jungle vegetation
that had been made by the animals coursing through it. They had to
watch the tree roots on the way; and twigs and the roots of nebula
orchids scratched their faces, but Mara didn't mind such minor
discomforts. For her, it was all pure enjoyment - the kaleidoscope of
the nebula orchid's colors; the sweet and pungent jungle fragrances;
the gold- and blue-striped woolamanders that came rushing past them,
tearing off whole clusters of leaves in the process. The enjoyment
was even heightened by the fact that after the previous night's
experience, she was still so much opened that she could very vividly
sense the living Force in all the beings around her, animal and plant
alike. She basked in their aliveness, drank it, and gave it back
through the joy that radiated off her.

The run in the hot, humid jungle air soon became trying for Corran.
Not so for Mara, who gave the Corellian a triumphant smirk,
thoroughly pleased at seeing how easily it would be for her to
overtake him if she wanted to. But they had agreed to run together;
so she stayed close to him, even though it meant that she had to slow
down more than she would have liked to if running on her own. "Hey,
what's the matter?", she called out to him. "We haven't even started
to warm up!" "Maybe *you* haven't started," he panted. Mara's smirk
became just a degree more pleased. Not only was she doing better then
Corran; but he even admitted it, as hard as it probably was on his
Corellian fighter pilot ego. Boy, was she enjoying herself!

When Mara returned from the run with Corran, Luke was already waiting
for her. "I take it you want to work with me alone this morning?",
she asked. "Yes", Luke said, the expression on his face more closed-
up than usual, "We'll go out into the jungle." Mara raised a single
eyebrow: "I just *had* a run in the jungle." "Yeah. You had a *run*
in the jungle. We'll have a *walk* in the jungle. Let's go."

Their walk took them deeply into the forest. Along the way, Luke
pointed out little things to Mara, directing her to feel the Force
around this stone or that plant, but she had a growing sense that
this was not the purpose of their walk. At least not its entire
purpose.

When they had reached a small clearing, Luke asked her to stop. He
pulled off his tunic in a quick movement and said: "Mara, I need to
ask you for something...". "That being?", she asked in a harsh tone,
knitting her brows into a frown.

//How is it that he seems to like to undress in front of me?//, she
thought; at the same time wondering just why it bothered her so much
at this moment. After all, during their bath in the grotto, he - in
fact, both of them - had been fully naked, and not just from the
waist up. But then, it had been dark; now they were in broad daylight.

It wasn't even that she disliked the sight as such, either. As slim
as he was, the young Jedi Master nevertheless sported some well-
shaped muscles. It was just that him being naked - or even just half
naked - in front of her in a solitary place like that created a
notion of intimacy that she hadn't exactly asked for.

However, Mara didn't have the time to think any further about the
appropriateness of the situation (or lack thereof). "See this?", Luke
said to her pointing to his left upper arm right below the shoulder.
And Mara saw it. It was a tattoo shaped in the form of what she
recognized as a Sith symbol, although she couldn't tell its exact
meaning. However, she could read the inscription that encircled it,
as it was written in the galactic standard script: "PROPERTY OF
EMPEROR PALPATINE".

"He had this done on you?, Mara asked. "Yes.", Luke replied, "After...
after he had broken me. To remind me that I was his, and his alone.
He said..." - Luke's voice trailed off until it was almost inaudible -
"that I'm just a slave and the son of a slave; and no matter what
power he would give me, I should never forget that."

"I have a similar mark. Here.", Mara said in a low voice, pointing to
the inside of her left thigh. "Not of the same symbol, but it also
has the meaning that I belong to the Emperor. I didn't feel ready to
have it removed yet, but I think I will... one of these days." She
noted with some gratitude that Luke had the decency not to ask her to
show him her tattoo. Instead, he just said: "I thought you have.
That's why I'm asking *you* to help me with this one. I want you to
take your lightsaber and scrape it off."

Mara's eyes widened. "Scrape it off?!? With a blade that cuts
durasteel like butter? I can understand that you want it removed, but
couldn't it be done by *normal* surgery?" Luke shook his head: "No. I
don't want anyone to know of this thing. If you won't help me to get
rid of it, I'll do it myself. But it would be easier if you did it."
Mara looked at him. She knew that Luke hadn't said it to get her to
do it, but had simply stated a fact. She swallowed hard. "All right,
I'll do it. I still think it's crazy, but before I let you cut off
your own arm..."

Without further words, Mara ignited her lightsaber. Luke suppressed a
shudder as the sight of the blue bladed saber he had once wielded
himself reminded him of how he had lost it in pain, and regained it
at a time of further pain and horror. So much pain, so much fear, so
much darkness. Darkness that clung to him like an ugly, sticky black
mass. But he would defy it. He would wash it off. *Burn* it off, if
need be.

Mara firmly grabbed his left arm with her free hand, saying: "You
must not move." Luke forced himself to smile to encourage her: "I
won't. Go ahead." Mara took a deep breath and carefully pressed the
sizzling blue blade against where the bottom end of the tattoo was.

Luke gasped; but apart from that, he didn't move nor make a sound.
Mara saw smoke rise from where the blade touched his flesh. The smell
sickened her. Through the Force, she could vividly sense the white-
hot agony that Luke was feeling. But she knew she had to keep her
hand steady no matter what. And she had to concentrate on drawing her
blade over the Emperor's mark slowly and carefully, much more slowly
than she would have wanted to, as to avoid the risk of inadvertently
inflicting a severe wound upon Luke.

When she was about halfway through, Luke started to quiver
involuntarily, so much that she had to tighten her grip on his arm
until her fingernails drew blood. Mara couldn't fully suppress a
shudder herself. Tears were running from her emerald green eyes as
she silently told herself //Carry on. You can do this.//

Luke likewise silently told himself //You can bear this. Just one
more moment.// After all, it wasn't any worse than when his father
had cut off his hand. And even then, he had uttered only one short
cry of pain. He fixed his gaze on a nearby tree as if trying to hold
on to it, but the tree and its surroundings started to blur and
darken before his eyes. He felt his stomach cramping, beads of cold
sweat forming on his forehead. //Just one more moment. It's not that
bad.//

Then it was over. Mara switched off her lightsaber and wrapped her
arms around Luke's waist to steady him. "It's all right. Just
breathe." Despite all his Jedi training, breathing didn't feel easy
to him at that moment, but Luke still managed to gather enough
strength to shove Mara's arms aside: "I'm fine!" "Near collapsing"
would have been closer to the truth, but Luke didn't want to show any
sign of weakness. Not in front of Mara.

"All right, let's have a look!", he said with a forced smile, turning
his head so that he could see the wound on his left arm. He
immediately wished he hadn't done so. The sight made him feel sick.
*Very* sick, in fact. He barely made it behind the nearest tree
before he had to throw up.

Mara turned away discreetly. The fact that Luke hadn't screamed
during the whole procedure even though they had gone so deep into the
forest that no-one but her could have heard him had told her volumes
about his need to maintain his personal dignity. Especially around
her. //No way I could hold his head while he vomits and still have
him believe that I respect him as a Jedi Master...//, Mara thought.

When Luke stopped retching, Mara stepped to his side. Putting one
hand on his shoulder, she used the sleeve of her tunic to wipe the
mixture of sweat, vomit, mucus and involuntary tears from his face
which was a greyish-white pale. "Luke...?" Her concern showed in her
voice. "I'm okay.", Luke said. "It's just that... the sight - and the
*smell* - of charred flesh reminds me too much of how we found
Gantoris' body..."

"And of other bodies you found.", Mara added. She knew about Owen and
Beru Lars. Luke nodded and remained silent for a moment. He had
instantly realized what she was thinking of. In a low voice, almost
to himself, he said: "I've always wondered whether those
stormtroopers killed them before they set them on fire."

Luke's words cut into Mara's heart like a vibroblade. //The Empire
has caused him so much pain//, she thought. - And yet he was allowing
*her*, the former Emperor's Hand, around him! And not only allowing
her around, but putting great care and effort into teaching her to
unfold her Force talent. It was a precious sign of his trust and
friendship. Asking her to do what she had just done had been a sign
of his trust, too. Mara couldn't think of many people who would let
someone who had once sought to kill them work on their arm with a
lightsaber. //Considering that he has only one natural hand left,
that's quite something, mmh?// While the light of Yavin's sun
caressed Mara's face, lending a golden glow to her cheeks and the
locks of hair that framed them, her lips formed a smile more warm and
soft than it had ever been seen on her.

However, the magic of the moment was destroyed the very next instant
as Luke said abruptly: "C'mon, let's go back!" and started to walk
away. However, he was still feeling so dizzy that after a few steps
he had to stop and lean against a tree. Mara looked at him,
worried. "You're all right, Luke? Don't you want to sit down a bit
until you've recovered?" Luke's eyes narrowed into dark blue slits,
his face turning into a mask of durasteel: "Recovered from *what*?
I've said I'm fine!" Using a Jedi technique to push away the
dizziness and pain, he walked away at a quick pace, obviously not
caring whether Mara could - or would - follow him. //Fine! There he
goes again, the great tough guy war hero and great great Jedi Master
who doesn't know any weakness, and doesn't need anyone to care about
him.//, Mara thought.

Then it occurred to her that even during the procedure, Luke could
have used his Jedi abilities to shut out most of the pain, but
seemingly had chosen not to do so. He had *wanted* it to hurt - why?
Because he had somehow believed that the pain would cleanse him?
Cleanse him from the taint of having served, of having *belonged to*
the Emperor...? In an instant, whatever compassion Mara felt for Luke
doubled, no, quadrupled. She knew too well what it was like...

Ever since she had slowly started to realize what the Empire had
really been, what it had done to people, she had been struggling with
the question what having been part of that system meant for *her*.
And not only having been part of the Empire, but having been in a
position so close to the Emperor himself, answerable only to him. How
much blood was on her hands also...? Yes, the way Luke saw it, she had
been used; but she wasn't willing to expiate herself so easily, to
deny her responsibility; and she half hated Luke for wanting to
excuse her so easily when for her it was not such a simple thing.

It was not without a reason that she hadn't had the Emperor's mark
removed from her leg yet. To her, her past involvement with Palpatine
still felt so interwoven with her being, so much part of who she was,
that such a gesture of putting it behind herself just didn't seem
appropriate to her. //You can't simply wash it off just like that.
Who knows, maybe you can't even scrape it off?// She knew what it
felt like to wonder how deep the taint really went and to almost hate
the people that were so kind to never ask that question, because they
*just didn't understand*.

Mara sighed and said: "It's hard enough as it is, you know. You don't
have to make it harder for yourself." Luke snapped back: "Have I
asked you? You're here to learn from me, remember? Not to tell me how
I have to deal with things." On the inside, a part of him was
startled about such harsh words coming out of his mouth; and Mara's
reply sounded just as harsh. "So? Yesterday night you told me a
different version!" "Mara, leave me alone!"

As Luke continued to make his way back to the temple, Mara
deliberately fell behind, drawing her eyebrows into a frown, like the
swift, curving movements of two beautiful and deadly red-gold snakes,
her eyes sparkling with anger while her full red lips formed the
sulky pout that Luke had secretly considered charming at other times,
though he certainly wasn't going to admit that now. //So much
for "cutting oneself off from others leads to the dark side"!//, she
thought.

Meanwhile, Luke quickened his steps even more; not so much to get
away from Mara (though that was what he told himself he was doing),
but to get away from himself; feeling shocked at his having pushed
away the woman he had trusted with his shameful secret just a few
minutes ago. But that was precisely the reason why he felt such a
strong urge to get away from Mara. The fear of having gone too far,
of having shown too much of this dark taint that was clinging to him,
too much of his shame and inner pain.

Soon, he didn't even walk anymore, he *ran*. Only when the pain in
the fresh wound on his left arm recurred did he stop, panting. Mara
caught up with him. Luke gave her an almost panicked stare from wild,
widened eyes; those big blue orbs that always gave him a fragile look
of wounded innocence, but innocence still. He said nothing, but the
look on his face was itself a scream. Mara stretched out a hand
towards him as if she wanted to put it on his shoulder, but didn't
dare to touch him. "You are not alone with this. I know what you
feel. You don't need to hide it. Not from me."
She wouldn't have thought it to be possible, but Luke's eyes widened
even more and Mara could very well see that the thought that she knew
exactly what was going on in his head, how much he suffered, seemed
to be even more unbearable for him. No one should know this about the
mighty Jedi Master. No one.
"I won't tell anyone, Luke." Mara reassured as gently as she
could. "I swear I won't ever tell anyone."
For a long moment, they just stared at each other. Slowly, gradually,
Luke regained his composure. The fear vanished from his face, he
straightened himself. But still, the smallest hint of doubt was edged
in his expression.
Mara sought his gaze: "Trust me, my friend." Luke nodded. They walked
back to the temple side by side, in silence that neither of them
dared to break.

To be continued...


*******************
Here to learn (5/?)
by Devi
*******************

R-rated. Content may offend - please refer to the warning below.

For disclaimer, please refer to chapter 1.

WARNING: In this chapter, Luke relives some dark episodes from his
past in the form of disturbing nightmares and memories. Contains mild
references to non-consensual slash (Luke/Palpatine), as well as some
talk about torture.

For the sake of those who are easily squicked, yet don't want to miss
out on a part of the plotline, I'm also posting a toned down
(censored) version of this chapter (it will say "toned down" in the
subject line) with the "heavy" parts removed and replaced by harmless
summaries.

Your feedback is ever welcome :-)

Special thanks to my beta Sienn!
_____________________________________________________________________

The next few days were all pretty much the same, distinguished only
by the increasing sense among the apprentices that there was
something *wrong* out there; something that was still impossible to
pinpoint, but yet was *real*; real enough to claim Gantoris; and
possibly Kyp, as everyone thought with a shudder, even though no one
spoke about "it".

Externally, however, the training was continued as usual; though with
the small, but remarkable difference that now, as he had discussed
with Mara Jade, Master Skywalker only taught the whole group in the
afternoon, leaving the task of instructing the other students in the
morning hours to Kam Solusar in order to free himself to spend that
time with Mara.

And the time they spent together was most pleasant to both, despite
the bewildering tension between them that flared up time and again;
or maybe just *because* of it, though neither the proud, reserved
master trader nor the shy Jedi Master would have ever admitted it.
Luke thoroughly enjoyed teaching as promising a student as Mara had
turned out to be. She was a remarkable combination of strength,
intelligence, stamina, and a will of steel; and she never got tired
of fostering her strengths and meticulously eliminating her
weaknesses.

When it came to her learning to use the Force, the fact that Mara
already had ample experience with that - even more than Luke himself
in terms of years - gave her a definite advantage over the other
students, but Luke could clearly feel that this advantage did not
*just* come from that. Mara's Force abilities had waned after the
Emperor's death, but now it was all coming back to her; and Luke
suspected that once her Force potential was fully restored and
completely unfolded, it would rival even his own. The pleasure of
working with such a talented student almost made him forget the grief
and worry that had been caused by the loss of Gantoris and Kyp.

As for Mara, she likewise realized with pleasure and amazement (most
of which she carefully concealed, though) that she had found herself
a very talented student when she gave Luke the promised lessons in
hand-to-hand combat. Once, referring to the moves he had just
learned, she said, "You know, normally one has to practice this kind
of stuff from the age of five to become any good at it."

Smirking, Luke replied, "Good thing you're only telling me this now!"

"Lemme guess," Mara said. "You were able to blow up that Death Star
because no one told you it was impossible."

"They *did* say that this shot was an impossible thing to do. But
tell that to a Tatooine farm kid who used to shoot womp rats! The
wompers were *moving* targets."

"I suppose Gavin Darklighter used to shoot womp rats, too?"

"I think he did," Luke replied. "I've never seen him doing it,
though - he was still a child when I left Tatooine and joined the
Rebellion."

"Some would say the same of you," Mara remarked.

"Oh, yeah!" Luke rolled his eyeballs. "You know, after I helped with
blowing up the first Death Star, those people from Alliance High
Command told me that I could ask for any reward they were able to
give."

//'Helped with', now that's a way to put it!//, Mara thought. Luke's
natural humility never failed to impress her.

"I told them that the only reward I wanted was to be allowed to serve
the Alliance," Luke continued. "Now at that time, I was twenty, but I
looked like sixteen; so this old general looked at me and said, `Not
that we couldn't use another good pilot, but do your parents know
you're here?'" Mara couldn't suppress an amused smile. "Well, I
replied, `My parents died when I was little, Sir.'; and he
said, `Then what about your guardians - your caretakers?' I told him
in brief what had happened to Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru. After that,
they didn't ask me any further."

"Guess they decided you had a valid reason to join their cause."

"Yeah. Join the Rebellion - orphans preferred!" Luke quipped,
recreating the same flavor of black humor that had helped him and his
comrades to survive those years of fighting against a seemingly all-
powerful Empire.

"So anyway, I was allowed to become a pilot for the Rebel Alliance;
but I still had lots of things to learn. I remember asking what
you're supposed to do when you need to pee while flying around in an
X-Wing." Mara smirked. "Hey, that's a legitimate question! After all,
such small ships don't have any installations for that. Well, I'll
never forget the answer I got - `You just do it and worry about the
mess later. Those orange suits are *washable*.'"

Mara ruffled her nose in disgust. Luke grinned. "Yeah, I never liked
the thought any more than you do, so I would usually take an empty
bottle with me when we went on a longer flight."

"I do the same when I'm moving around in a Headhunter," Mara
remarked.

"Really? I never thought that girls could pee in a bottle!"

"I would use a bottle with a wide neck," Mara explained with a
grin. "Plus I'm able to direct things with the Force."

"You would use the Force for *that*?!"

"Why not? Is it a sacrilege?"

"No. It just never occurred to me that anyone could think of doing
such a thing."

"Well, you'd be surprised to find out what I can think of..."

*****

Their shared training sessions were a pleasure; but what Luke and
Mara perhaps enjoyed most were the moments before and after when they
had time to talk. Through those talks, they found out many things
about each other; but what was more important to them was that they
both understood what the other could *not* talk about.

Though they had never voiced it, Luke and Mara had often felt
excluded when others had shared anecdotes about their parents and
happy childhood; but between the two of them, that problem just
didn't appear.

Neither did they bother each other with too many questions about
other topics they didn't feel comfortable with - the Emperor being
one of them.

Only once, Luke asked, "There is one thing I don't understand - how
is it that the reborn Emperor didn't find you, even though you used
to have such a strong link with him?"

Mara frowned and shook her head. "I don't understand that, either. I
was the Emperor's Hand for years; but when the Emperor returned, he
never even *tried* to get hold of me. Not to punish me, not to
reinstate me, not even to send me away and ignore me from then on. It
was as if for him, I had never existed. Not that I particularly
*wanted* him to know of my existence; but it was just so weird. See,
that's why it's hard for me to believe that this clone you
encountered actually was the Emperor in the first place. Palpatine
had owned me mind, body and soul; but this one had no power over me."

"He had power over me, though," Luke said in a low voice. Then they
fell silent, both feeling grateful that the other didn't expect them
to speak any further.

*****

Mara still started off her days by taking a run through the jungle
alongside Corran Horn. She did it because she liked the activity as
such (she had always loved to move her body); and because her pride
demanded of her to show Luke that he wasn't the only person she liked
to spend some time alone with.

Running with Corran was the best way for her to do so, since there
was no risk that the Corellian would develop any futile hopes because
of the fact that she spent some of her time with him every day. After
all, he loved his wife - he underwent the Jedi training in order to
prepare himself for rescuing Mirax from captivity.

In addition to that, Mara Jade and Corran Horn had started to like
each other as friends, despite the initial prejudice that the former
CorSec man had felt towards the ex-Imperial.

So Mara's days would begin by going out into the jungle with Corran;
and when she returned, Luke would already be eagerly awaiting her,
though he always took care not to look *too* eager - he had his
pride, too.

On one particular morning run, Mara picked up a bunch of nebula
orchids that had been torn off by a pack of woolamanders when they
had dashed through the foliage. She quickly, skillfully wove the
blossoms into her hair as she returned to the temple.

Luke's eyes widened with surprise when he saw Mara's unusual
adornment. As soon as they were out of anyone else's hearing range,
he blurted out, "Mara, that's...wow!"

Mara was amused about his inability to hide his excitement. Jedi
Master or not, sometimes it showed that Luke was still a simple farm
boy at heart. And there were times when nothing could be more
charming than a farm boy.

"Hey, you're making it sound like I didn't look pretty before I put
on those flowers!" Mara said in mock pouting.

//Boy, does he look cute when he's embarrassed!//, she thought when
Luke replied, "Of course you're..." //Well, `pretty' is maybe not the
word. Gorgeous. Breathtaking. So beautiful that the suns have to envy
you for the golden shimmer on your hair, and... - What am I thinking
again? Get a grip on yourself!// "It's just that I didn't expect to
ever see you wearing something so..."

"...feminine," Mara completed the sentence for him. //Heck, I should
stop teaching her about mind reading,// Luke thought. //Either that,
or I gotta work on my shielding.// "Hey, just because I've been an
elite assassin, it doesn't mean I'm not a woman!"

"I never thought you aren't," Luke defended himself. "How could I,
after seeing you with those silk veils in Jabba's palace?" He allowed
himself a little teasing smirk.

"You had enough time to admire my dancing costume?" Mara said with a
sarcastic look. "And I thought you were completely focused on
rescuing Han Solo!"

"I *was*. And besides, that brunette in the gold bikini looked even
better than you. Too bad she's my sister," Luke continued his teasing.

"Oh, you!" Mara's eyes darted to and fro, as if scanning the area for
objects to throw at him. Then she said on a calmer note, "Well, to
destroy the image you might have of me - I know how to create dozens
of elaborate hairstyles, with and without flowers. It was part of my
training. Remember, my public image - when I did appear in public -
was that of an Imperial courtesan, so I had to look the part. The
hair, the expensive evening gowns, the make-up - everything. And I
*like* flowers. It's just that I don't like to pluck them just for
the sake of decorating myself. I *never* killed any being for fun."

//I know, Mara.// The young Jedi Master glanced at the red-haired
woman, who looked like a picture of fresh, youthful beauty that was
perfectly enhanced by the still dew-covered, fragrant flowers that
resembled colorful jewels in the crown formed by her fiery hair.

"But these flowers had been torn off already when I found them, so
there's no harm in using them," Mara continued her explanation. "And
to tell you one other thing about me - but don't tell anyone! - I
liked some of the beautiful evening gowns, too. But they weren't
exactly the sort of thing that's practical enough for my lifestyle,"
she said with an ironic grin.

"Never mind, you have a good taste in flight suits."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"Did you expect one?"

And thus, another day began.

*****

That was just the days, though. The nights were yet a different
thing. Luke had many dreams come to him, and they weren't calm nor
good...

*****

He was a small child, maybe five years old; lying in bed at
nightfall, at the time when the suns had already vanished below the
horizon, but the air was still filled with the heat of the day that
was being reflected by the sand and stones. He was ready to drift off
into sleep; but before that, he had to say one more thing...

"Aunt Beru?"

"Mmmh?"

"If I'm a good boy... if I'm really nice... do you think that my daddy
will come back and play with me?"

The gentle woman gave him a strange, sad look before she
said, "Lukie, darling, your daddy is *dead*. That means he will
*never* come back. Now you be nice and go to sleep, yes? And tomorrow
I'll let you ride the dewback. Would you like to ride the dewback?"

The boy nodded sleepily, then closed his eyes. But as soon as his
guardian had gone away, he opened them again to gaze at the stars
outside the window. The bright, glittering stars of a desert night,
like so many diamond splinters, myriads and myriads of tiny lights...

...myriads and myriads of tiny lights encircling the reactor shaft that
lay at the heart of Cloud City.

The wind had subsided; and now it was so still, still as death. A
fresh wound where his right hand had been just a moment ago, it hurt
so bad; but not as much as those four small words that entered his
ears.

Entered his heart.

Ripped it to pieces.

"I am your father."

//No! No!!! NOOOO!!!//

The scream resounded in his mind, but on the outside, there was no
sound to split the deadly silence. He had no more voice; the Dark
Side itself had stifled or swallowed it.

The Dark Lord that was his cruel father strode towards him, his black
cape billowing in his wake like a cloud of smothering smoke. Luke
knew that he *had to* escape, even if it meant that he had to fling
himself off the gantry towards a long fall and certain death. But
when he tried, he found that he could not loosen the grip of his
hand; neither was he able to move his body in any other way. He was
paralyzed, or glued to the spot in the most literal sense, or both.

Nearer and nearer, Darth Vader was coming; until the sound of his
mechanical breathing filled the ears of his helpless son like a cold
and terrible storm; until, with one grab of his strong hand, he got
hold of Luke and pulled him towards him; then held him tightly to his
armor-encased chest, wrapping his black cloak around him so that he
could see no more. "Easy, my son. I'll take you with me now."

Shush now, Lukie, my darling, Daddy is here at last.

Luke woke up gasping with fear-widened eyes. Then he sighed with
great relief as he noticed that he *could* move. So it had only been
a dream. Soon, he calmed down and allowed himself to slip back into
sleep. However, it did not take long until he was assaulted by a
second nightmare, worse than the first...

He was in the Emperor's throne room on Byss, looking at a view screen
that showed the newest destruction brought by the Imperial
fleet. "Isn't it beautiful?" the Emperor asked him. "So much death
and destruction. So much pain out there. With each being's pain and
death, the power of the Dark Side grows. The power that is ours, my
young apprentice. Can you feel it?"

"Yes, my Master."

The Emperor smiled - an expression that only served to make his face
all the more ugly. "Ah, young Lord Skywalker, you have learned well.
You have become so powerful. Much better than the measly life you had
before, isn't it so?"

"Yes, my Master."

The Emperor showed his approval of this submissive answer with one of
his ugly chuckles. "Yes, yes! It was the best thing that could happen
to you that I made you submit to my will, so that you could claim
your right to walk in your father's footsteps and enjoy the gifts of
the Dark Side." "But in fact," the evil despot walked closer to him
and lowered his voice as if he was about to tell a secret, "you have
become an even better apprentice than Darth Vader ever was. So young.
So strong."

"You know..." He came even closer until he was standing right next to
Luke. "When your father was pushed into that lava pit by the accursed
Kenobi, it created the anger in him that gave him his power; but it
destroyed his beauty. But you, my young apprentice..." The Emperor was
now so close that his lips almost touched the ear in which he
whispered those words. Luke could feel the tyrant's hot breath on his
skin; and with it, through the Force, came a wave of greedy, hot
desire from the evil ruler. It was a nauseating sensation, but the
young man did not dare to move or otherwise react, for fear of
displeasing his Master. Palpatine kissed two of his spindly fingers,
with which he then traced the contours of young Skywalker's face
while speaking in a husky whisper, "...you... are just... as beautiful... as
your father once was. And just like he was..." - the tyrannical ruler's
fingers slipped between Luke's lips, seeking entrance - "...you are now
*mine*."

Luke was too afraid to move, or maybe unable to do so. He felt as
helpless as if he was a crushed insect stuck to the sole of a boot; a
sensation that only increased when he found that he couldn't even
make a sound either. It was as if he had suddenly lost his voice, or
as if the Emperor had been able to *take it away*. //No! No!
NOOO!!!//, he screamed within his mind, straining and straining to
get out at least one *real* scream. Somehow he knew that if only he
could scream, it would be over.

//NO!!! NOOOO!!!// The scream pushed against the insides of his
throat, which felt as constricted as if he was being choked. Slowly,
micron by micron, it made its way out; until it was finally heard.

"Nooooo!!!" - Luke woke to the sound of his own voice screaming. It
took him a few more panic-filled seconds until it faintly registered
with him that he was in his room on Yavin IV, on his bed, tangled in
sweat-drenched sheets. He held on to those sheets and curled himself
into a trembling ball while he fought desperately to get his mind
back into the present. He knew that, should he not be able to do so,
he would certainly go insane. When he became aware of his
surroundings again, he saw the silhouettes of Mara and Tionne in the
doorframe.

That out of the two of them Mara had been in more of a hurry to get
to him was evident not only from the fact that she had arrived at his
door at the same time as Tionne, even though her way had been longer
(her room being situated on ground level); but also from the fact
that while Tionne was fully dressed, Mara was wearing only a
nightgown made of some thin, white material. Since Luke's room was
still dark, all the light that was present came from behind her,
creating a golden halo around her red-haired head as well as shining
through that thin, white cloth to clearly reveal the contours of her
graceful body.

It was this sight that finally made Luke fully realize that he hadn't
died and gone to hell. //There are no angels in hell.//

"Master Skywalker, is everything all right?" Tionne asked. "We heard
you scream."

"Was I so loud?" Luke asked.

"Yes. Especially in the Force," Mara said.

"Well, it's all right now," Luke replied. "It was just a bad dream.
You can go back to bed, okay?"

//Must have been a *very* bad dream,// Mara thought. Nevertheless
she, as well as Tionne, followed his word and left.

However, Mara surprised Luke just a few minutes later by half-opening
his door again. While she waited for his invitation to come in, Luke
saw that she was still wearing the nightgown, though she had put on a
piece of daytime clothing - her brown Jedi robe - over it. He also
saw that she was carrying a bottle of Savareen brandy, and a glass.

"I thought you look like you need a drink," Mara said with her
characteristic dry matter-of-factness that at the moment seemed to
Luke like a lifeline to sanity.

"But Mara, I don't drink alcohol," he protested, but nonetheless let
her in.

"You need a drink," Mara repeated insistently while pouring him a
glass of the brownish liquid. Luke took a sip from it, feeling the
liquor burn in his throat. Well, at least it drove the bad taste from
his mouth. He downed the rest in one gulp.

"Hey, that's no water!" Mara cautioned him.

"I know," said Luke. "By the way, where did you get that stuff? I
didn't know we had a liquor store on this moon." Now that he was
feeling slightly better, his natural curiosity surfaced once again.

"I brought it with me when I came," Mara explained.

"Wait a moment - you brought *that* with you when you came here for
Jedi training?"

"Hey, what else did you expect?" Mara said with a wink, "I'm not just
a Jedi trainee; I'm also a smuggler. And besides, you didn't say that
it's not allowed here."

"It's not about not being allowed, it's just... unusual."

"Unusual - yes." //As was a Jedi Master that suffered from
nightmares.// Mara, who was sitting on Luke's bed, moved closer to
him before she said the next words. "That dream of yours - do you
want to tell me about it?"

"Before I do so, you better give me a refill," Luke said while
holding up his glass.

Mara complied with that request even though it made her worry even
more about his emotional state. Like he had said himself, Luke didn't
drink - normally. Calming oneself with the help of alcohol wasn't
exactly a Jedi Master-like thing to do. But neither was curling up
into a frightened, trembling ball; and confronted with the choice
between those two options, Luke had decided that for the moment, he
preferred the former over the latter.

Hesitatingly, he said, "The dream - it was about the Emperor."

"About what he did to you," Mara said in instant understanding.

Luke managed to nod, even though his muscles hardly obeyed his
command.

"What was it?"

Luke stared at her with a look of helpless fear that she had never
before seen on him. Not on Myrkr, when he had been cut off from the
Force because of the Ysalamiri. Not during their confrontation with
the crazy C'baoth from which they had barely gotten away alive.
Never. When he finally managed to speak, his voice was no more than a
broken whisper. "I can tell no living soul."

Mara wrapped a supportive arm around Luke's trembling frame, but he
stiffened in her embrace. The young woman did her best to send him
calming, soothing feelings through the Force. "It's all right.
Whatever it is, just know that whenever you'll be ready to tell, I'll
be there to listen."

Luke didn't reply, but during the long time of silence that ensued,
he slowly settled into her comforting embrace. It felt good to have
Mara around - especially now. He knew that if there was *anyone* who
could possibly understand at all what it had been like to have the
Emperor do those unspeakable things to him, it would be her, who had
been with that monster since childhood.

He couldn't tell, though. Wouldn't tell. How could he ever tell
anyone? It hurt enough to know within himself how much he had been
defiled, even without anyone knowing about the invisible filth that
he could feel clinging to his person.

But then, he also felt the burning, irrepressible need to find out
whether he was the only one to whom those things had happened. To
find out whether such terrible, inconceivable things could have
happened at all. To find out whether he was crazy.

It was only when he felt as if he would be ripped apart from the
inside by his unasked questions if he was to remain silent even for
one more nanosecond that he finally spoke. In a small voice that
sounded as if it had hardly been able to escape the throat it came
from, he said, "When you were with the Emperor, did he ever look at
you in a way that... wasn't right?"

It took Mara a moment to understand what he was talking about. "You
mean - whether he was leering at me?"

"Mm-hm."

Now it was Mara who stiffened as she remembered the way the Emperor's
eyes sometimes used to linger on the curves of his Hand's youthful
body. She squirmed a little in discomfort as she replied, "Well, I
*think* he did. It's hard to tell - I was just used to it."

//Used to it.// Luke shuddered as he remembered once again that Mara
had been in the Emperor's clutches for much longer than he had
been. //Force knows how much he did to her.// The next question was
even harder for him to utter than the first had been, as even
*thinking* about it made him feel sick. "Was it just looks, or...
touching also?"

Mara pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around
them before she answered. "Touching? Not much. I mean, sometimes he
did become a bit... *familiar* with me; like letting his hand rest on
mine. Stroking my cheek, or my arm. I didn't make much of it at the
time, I thought it was just his way of showing me his appreciation
for my service. Like I said, I was used to it." She paused before she
added in a lower voice, "I was not so much what he did that was bad;
the bad part was knowing what he *could* do. My life *consisted* of
servitude to the Emperor, I only existed to be at his disposal in any
way he could conceive of; so if he would have ever wanted to...enjoy
me, there would have been no way around it for me, and I knew that."

Luke blanched visibly. "He made sure that you knew," he commented.

Mara understood, and was shocked. "He did it to you, too, didn't he?
Giving you hints to what he could do if he wanted to?"

It took Luke all his strength to just nod. He again curled up into a
ball as he fought to keep his memories of the Emperor at bay. Mara
tried to soothe him by stroking his back; but he fearfully recoiled
from her touch, so she withdrew her physical arm while continuing
to "hold" him through the Force, offering the comforting warmth of
her presence.

When Luke spoke again, his voice nearly failed him. "The worst thing
is... if he would have... demanded... you-know-what... then... I... I... also...
would have... complied." He shut his eyes tightly, squashing the tiny
teardrops that had appeared in their corners, then let out a pained
sigh before whispering, "Don't you understand? He even made me attack
my own sister. If Leia had been any less strong and determined, I
would have ended up killing her... or breaking her myself, the way he
had broken me." Luke shuddered. "If he could make me do *that*...
there's no limit to what he could have made me do for him."

"The way he had broken you...," Mara whispered, almost to herself. She
didn't even want to imagine the things that those words referred to.

"Yes." Luke's voice was still no more than a whisper. "I never told
you what happened after I lost that fight in the cloning chamber."

"You told me that he decided that it was time to bring you into
submission..."

"Yes." Another pained sigh. "But I never told you *how* he did it."

"He tortured you, didn't he?" Mara's voice was an even lower whisper
than before. She was afraid of what she would hear next.

"Not he himself... he had others do it while he looked on."

//Looked on...// "He enjoyed watching it, didn't he?"

Luke buried his face in his hands to hide the tears he could no
longer hold back; but they soon seeped through his fingers. When he
could gather enough breath in between his sobs, he continued his
bitter tale of woe. "Yes. He just couldn't get enough of seeing me in
pain." More bitter sobs. "Sometimes they couldn't finish performing
the program of torture that he had wanted to watch because I passed
out too quickly. Then he would get so angry each time... he would...
punish me himself then. His favorite were those lightning bolts. I
would be hurting for days from those... as if my bones were on fire..."
Luke's voice turned into an inarticulate, anguished whimper.

//That perverse bastard!//, Mara thought as an all-too-vivid picture
of her former master's vile cruelty formed before her mind's eye.
Since the Emperor had also punished her with Force lightning at
times, she knew too well what her friend had suffered.

"Oh, Luke..." She wrapped her arms tightly around his quivering body,
struggling not to break into tears herself as she was overwhelmed
with compassion.

This time, Luke willingly gave himself to her comforting embrace. It
felt good to rest in Mara's arms; it felt good to rest, period. He
was so exhausted from all the painful emotions.

But still, he wasn't at ease. Mara could feel that there was more
that was haunting him. "He didn't just torture you physically, did
he?"

Luke's trembling lips parted, almost as if he was opening his mouth
to say something, but he did not speak. As the Emperor's Hand, Mara
had seen - and often caused - many forms of death and suffering, but
the stare she now got from Luke in lieu of words was enough to shake
her to the bone.

No, he couldn't tell about *those* things, it was impossible. There
were no words for this dimension of pain and darkness; and even if he
would find words, no one would understand or believe him. *You can't
know it if you haven't been through it.* And he who *had* been
through it would never be able to speak about "it"; for he couldn't
even risk to think about it. He was sure that if he ever was to go
through all of it again, even just in the form of remembering it, he
would go crazy or die.

But it was hard, so hard, to fight off the memories once they had
been evoked by a thought, or a word, or any other cue.

It came rushing back to him like a black wave. All dressed in the
grayish fog that seemed to fill his brain due to his fear; and yet so
vivid, like a detailed, high-definition holograph...

**The Emperor had injected him with a Sith drug. As much as he tried
to fight it, he could feel the effects of that poison kick in;
numbing, paralyzing his ability to reach out to the Light Side while
weakening his resistance to the Darkness without and enhancing every
single bit of the Dark Side that was already present within him. And,
as much as he had struggled to fight them off, there were still
enough of those inner bits of Darkness for his tormentor to work
with.

No, he no longer was the impulsive youth at war with his own anger,
as the Emperor had observed; but even for a seasoned Jedi, it wasn't
easy (to say the least) to stay clear of fear and anger - the
emotions that led to the Dark Side - while being tortured over and
over again. Those emotions were a natural human reaction to what Luke
had been subjected to already. But under the circumstances he was in,
they were a reaction that couldn't merely cost him his life. It could
cost him his soul.

Palpatine gloated over his victim, who had been strapped to a table
for convenience, even though the Emperor knew that it was well within
his abilities to stop his soon-to-be Darksider from squirming without
any external means. Ah, so the drug was already working as desired.
Time to begin...

The evil Sith pressed his claw-like hands onto Luke's face. At least
that was what Luke figured he was doing. He couldn't see what was
going on because he had been blindfolded. But he *felt* all the more.

At the same instant that Palpatine's sharp nails dug into the
delicate skin of his face, Luke could feel how the malicious tyrant
stretched out a mental claw that dug itself in even more deeply.
*Into his mind.*

//NOOOOO!!!//

Luke screamed within what he would have screamed aloud if he had been
able to. But of course, he had been gagged as well; so he had no
choice but to suffer his agony in silence.

//You asked for it.// Palpatine's voice was also coming from within.
Now that he had forcefully entered his victim's psyche, there was no
more need for him to communicate with Skywalker via audible speech.

Waves over waves of Darkness flooded Luke's brain, overpowering him,
breaking whatever little resistance he had still been able to put up.
Then the Emperor's invisible talons dug deeper and deeper into his
mind. Luke felt them prying and digging around in there; searching
for whatever memories they could use, then touching them up with dark
paint and presenting them to him.

It was all there, all the unhappiness of his entire life, all the way
back to his childhood when Uncle Owen had treated him so coldly and
harshly and he had understood that he didn't have real parents, that
he never would have real parents like everyone else...

//But that's not true, I did find my true father!//

//Your father? Hah! He did not so-called kill me because he loved
you, he only did it because he hated me. He would have killed you
himself, he would have killed *both* his children!//

//No! Not true...// Luke weakly tried to deny it, but he was already
overwhelmed by the next pictures. This time, they were of his
encounter with Vader on Mimban, when the Dark Lord had almost killed
him and Leia. No, they *had* died, and been called back to life by
the will of the Force and the mysterious power of the Kaiburr
crystal. Vader had killed both his children...

//See? It's true! He never cared about you. *No one* ever cared about
you. No one ever loved you. *There is no love*; there is only hate.
Hate is the only power. Nothing exists, except fear and hate.//

//No...// Though weakening, Luke still struggled not to give in. He
tried to remember the images of all the people he cared about; but
the evil hand in his brain ripped them from him to present them back
to him in the worst possible light. He saw Han before him like he had
seen him last, pointing a blaster at him and calling him traitor.

Then even those images where taken from him, wiped out; until in his
consciousness, there were only faded, gray shadows left of what had
been his memories of his family and friends. He had no one. He was no
one.

//See? *You will always be alone*, whether you choose to hate or not;
but only hate can give you power. Except for hate and fear, nothing
exists. You can choose hate, and enjoy power; or you can choose
nothingness, and be nothing, forever nothing. We come from Darkness,
and we go to Darkness. Darkness is the only reality.//

//No, no...// Growing weaker still, Luke made a last attempt to resist.

//Except for hate and fear, nothing exists. We come from Darkness,
and we go to Darkness.//

Luke felt flood waves of pure Dark Side energy inundating his
consciousness. It was like smothering, black smoke from a fire that
was not hot, but cold, deadly cold; the cold of the Dark Side that
turned his heart into a block of ice. He could no longer breathe,
could no longer feel anything except the ocean of Darkness that had
engulfed him. As much as he tried, he could no longer reach for the
Light; there was no more Light for him.

//See, there is nothing; you are nothing. You don't exist; unless *I*
am so merciful to grant you an existence as my servant. You're just a
slave and the son of a slave...// It was the last thing that Luke heard
before he fainted once again.**

"Luke! Luke, come back!" Mara was shaking him to get him out of what
seemed like a strange state of shock, frightened by his vacant
stare. "Luke, you're here; look at me, it's me, Mara!"

It took a long moment until he consciously registered her call and
was pulled out of his terrible reverie. His eyes slowly regained
their focus; but their pupils still resembled black lakes of pain
framed by small blue rims.

"You're here with *me*; not with him. He can't hurt you now."

Luke's lips opened again for another silent moment.

"And he can't punish you for whatever you tell me," Mara added.

Luke shuddered again. "He did things to my mind," he said in an
almost inaudible voice that resembled a hurt child's whimper. "I
couldn't resist... I was not strong enough..."

//Not strong enough? No one would have been.// Her eyes reflecting
her shock and concern, Mara stroked his cheek with the back of her
hand. "Gods, Luke..."

Luke averted his face and firmly covered his eyes with trembling lids
as they started to fill with renewed tears. Taking a deep breath, he
tried to will some composure back into himself. He didn't want Mara
to see him like this, so weak and shattered. But as he glanced at her
again, he was amazed to see a pair of warm green eyes that looked
back at him with nothing but compassion and - respect. Yes, as
impossible as it seemed, Mara still respected him, even now that she
knew...

Something melted inside of Luke. Letting his head sink against the
warm softness of Mara's chest, he allowed his tears to flow freely.
Mara felt them soaking her nightgown, but she did not care. Holding
him close, she stroked Luke's hair, shoulders and back with tender
hands, occasionally whispering whatever words of comfort came to her
mind. Most of the time, she remained silent, though; not wanting to
disturb what she knew was a precious moment, the moment that Luke was
finally able to cry about his manifold pain and weep for his lost
innocence. It was not the completion of his healing, this much she
knew also, but it was part of it.

Inside, she felt a compassion that the hardened ex-Emperor's Hand
would have never thought possible in herself. //Maybe tonight is a
healing for both of us,// Mara thought while shedding some tears of
her own that fell into Luke's hair as she kissed the crown of his
head.

After a time the length of which neither of the two could have told,
Luke was calmed, or maybe just exhausted. He looked up at what even
more than before seemed like and angel to him with eyes of cloudy
blue, his face still covered with the moisture of his sweat and tears
that shimmered like beads of liquid silver in the half-light of the
room. It has been said that no one is able to look attractive after a
fit of crying, but at the moment, it seemed like Luke Skywalker could
disprove that theory.

With her fingers, and then with her lips, Mara brushed those silvery
beads of moisture from Luke's cheeks. "He will never hurt you again.
*No one* will ever hurt you again if I'm there to hinder it." She was
surprised herself about the latter statement coming out of her mouth,
but both her and Luke could feel that it had come from the core of
her heart. Then, following an inner impulse, she let her soft lips
warm Luke's still trembling ones. Until, for a moment, he forgot
about his pain. Until he kissed her back.

*****

To be continued...

*******************
Here to learn (6/?)

By Devi

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

Overall rating is PG-13.

For disclaimer, please refer to chapter 1.

Much thanks to my beta Sienn :-)
______________________________________________________________________

Luke was dreaming again, but this time it was not a nightmare.

He was enwrapped in a blanket of fire. Somehow it didn't burn him,
but kept him warm, a gentle warmth that soothed his soul; and it felt
as pleasant to the touch as the finest silk. He could have lain there
like this forever, wrapped in that fiery, silken blanket, amidst what
felt like soft cushions of cream and silk.

Gradually, but smoothly, he made the transition to waking, like
slowly swimming upwards until he had reached the surface of the ocean
of sleep and dreams. Emerging, he found that the fiery, silken
blanket of his dream truly existed in the form of red-gold, soft,
shimmering hair that was spread out across his chest. He also found
that what his hand touched, although it was indeed as soft as cream
and smooth as silk, was really the cream-and-ivory colored skin of a
thigh that had been laid bare by a slipped-up nightgown.

Next thing, he understood that both hair and thigh belonged to Mara
Jade. She was lying on top of him, with their legs entwined. Since he
was wearing only a pair of sleeping shorts and her thin nightgown had
slipped up *a lot*, there was not much to separate him from the
living warmth of her skin.

//How did I get here?//, Luke wondered, taking his hand off Mara's
thigh. Turning his head as much as it was possible, he took stock of
his surroundings. He saw Mara's discarded over-robe lying crumpled on
the floor with an empty bottle next to it. Well, the sight of the
latter provided him with a plausible explanation as to why he could
remember so little of the previous night. But what was it that he
couldn't remember?

For a Jedi, there were proven ways to enhance short-term memory; but
those techniques required more concentration than Luke was able to
summon at the moment. And all the warm, tantalizing female flesh that
was present above and around him did not exactly help him to focus,
either.

Luke decided that there were two things for him to do: getting out of
that bewildering situation, and figuring out how he had gotten into
that situation in the first place. He tried to wriggle out from under
the young master trader, who was still asleep. It didn't have the
effect he had wanted to achieve, namely, him getting free from the
weight of Mara's body.

The effect it did have was twofold: first, a certain part of his body
rubbed against the body above it, making him *very* aware of the fact
that he had woken up with a hard-on. Luke gritted his teeth as he
suppressed a groan. //Great! Just what I can use right now! So much
for `There is no passion, there is serenity'...//

The second effect was that his companion snapped awake. Two green
eyes popped open and looked at him. Just when he had thought that it
couldn't get any more embarrassing...

"Mara, I don't know what happened; and I don't know if you can still
respect me after this, but..."

"Isn't that for the woman to ask?" the green-eyed one interrupted him
as she casually rolled aside, seemingly in no hurry to get off his
body. She remained lying beside him, propped up on her elbows, eyeing
him with tilted head and one eyebrow arched.

"What?"

"Isn't that what the woman normally asks the morning after - `will
you still respect me now'?"

//The morning after...// Luke gasped. Oh, no! The reason - the obvious
reason - why Mara and he were lying in bed together like this was
that they had...

So this had been "the" night... He had finally shared that ultimate
intimacy with someone; and it had happened just the way he had never
ever wanted it to happen: as the result of a drunken night that he
couldn't even remember; when it hadn't been the right time; and not
the right woman either, for how could he expect Mara, free-spirited,
independence-loving, wild Mara, to love him? What to speak of the
fact that he himself was still far from clearly understanding his own
feelings towards her...

And they wouldn't remain friends, either; for how could their
friendship survive *this*? Oh, damn! It was only his deep-rooted
sense of dignity that kept Luke Skywalker from banging his head
against the wall, or bursting into tears, or both.

But even without such reactions, Mara noticed that something was
troubling him. And it had nothing to do with the emotional anguish he
had suffered the night before; for she had kissed that pain away the
best she could and thawed the ice of Luke's fear with the warmth of
her body and soul until he had been ready to peacefully fall asleep
in her arms, reminding her of how he had been sleeping next to her in
the forests of Myrkr. He had been sleeping just as soundly and
peacefully back then, just as if he had somehow been convinced that
with her being near, nothing could harm him. And indeed, she would
have guarded him against all the dangers of the forest. She would
have done it because she had considered it her exclusive privilege
and duty to kill him; but also, yes, also because in some intangible
way, he had been *special* to her. Yes, even then.

So it had to be something different that was bothering him now. Maybe
her interrupting him with a joking remark when he had wanted to say
something about his fear of her no longer being able to respect him
had rubbed him the wrong way. Underneath his serene demeanor, Luke
was a sensitive person; and she had noticed that he did seem to mind
how she felt about him, so maybe... Well, she wouldn't know unless she
asked.

"What's the matter? Luke? Say something, please."

The young Jedi Master had to brace himself before following her
request. "Mara, I don't know what you think of me now; but you should
know that I still respect you, and that I know that we shouldn't have
done it this way."

"Shouldn't have done what?"

Luke swallowed hard. //C'mon, if you could *do* it, you can also name
it!//
With downcast eyes, he said the words - "Sleeping together."

The moment Mara understood what he meant, she was visibly
puzzled. "But we didn't sleep together!"

Luke didn't compute. "What? But we..."

"Yes, we did sleep together in this bed, but we didn't sleep *with
each other*."

"We did just *sleep*?"

"Yeah. - Disappointed?"

"About what?" No, Luke wasn't disappointed, just plain relieved. So
relieved, in fact, that he almost gave the young redhead a
spontaneous hug; but he restrained himself from doing so, taking into
consideration that they both weren't exactly fully dressed.

"That you couldn't add me to the list of your exploits." As soon as
she noticed Luke's relief, Mara's challenging wit immediately
returned in all its former glory.

"What list?"

"Ah c'mon, you know what I mean! Once a Rogue, always." Mara winked
for emphasis.

"Once a Rogue... Ha, I *knew* it was a bad idea to leave you alone with
Corran!" Luke, whose wit had also returned, rolled his eyeballs.

"Corran? Naah, Corran has to *behave* since he's with Mirax." Mara
mockingly drew out the word "behave". Then she returned to a normal,
serious mood, as did Luke. "You have no list?"

"None."

Mara pondered about the meaning of this reply. Had Luke merely wanted
to say that he didn't keep a list of the women he had amorous
encounters with; or had he meant that he had never... //Possible//, she
thought as she looked at what, despite a few wrinkles around the eyes
that Luke had since his brush with the Dark Side, was still the face
of an adorable, shy, innocent farm boy. But then, she couldn't ask
further. It was just too much of a personal subject.

However, even without Mara asking, the first part of her question was
answered as Luke added, "Why, did you really think I would keep a
list - a *tally* on that? Like the blood markings?" He was referring
to the red markings that X-Wing pilots painted on their ships to
signify the number of TIEs they had vaped.

"No, you wouldn't. Not you." //And that's one reason why I do respect
you, Luke Skywalker.// She gazed at him with eyes of warm, shimmering
green that again seemed to have inbuilt tractor beams. He knew he had
to look somewhere else soon, or they could easily end up doing the
very thing in regards with which he had been so relieved that they
hadn't done it.

Luke cleared his throat. "Well, you better go now. I need to take a
shower..." //a *cold* shower// "...and get ready to go before anyone
starts to miss me."

Mara perched an eyebrow as she looked at him. //No good-morning
kiss?//

"I've heard that! You should be more careful what you think in the
presence of a Jedi," Luke said in friendly, but serious enough
scolding.

//Yeah, right, I should keep my thoughts in check! What did I expect?
Luke's my friend; and he doesn't want to do anything that would
jeopardize our friendship. And neither should I.// She knew what to
do, and what to leave undone, didn't she?

She had known it the previous night...

**It was not a moment she would easily forget. Their kiss had started
slowly and gently, just a gesture of comfort and affection between
friends; but then she felt a tingle, a rising heat inside; and the
Force flared up like a blaze between them, conveying to her the
knowledge that Luke felt the same. They suddenly, simultaneously
grabbed each other with such verve that an onlooker - if there would
have been one - would have feared they would break each other's
bones, one hot mouth pressed on the other as if to crush it.

When they had to loosen their embrace due to the need to catch some
breath, they both felt dizzy, and not just because of the lack of
oxygen. Mara rested her forehead against Luke's sweaty one, and felt
what was almost like an electric current flowing between them at the
point where skin touched skin. With it came a thirst of the flesh,
and of the spirit; a need to unite *here, now*, that was so keen, so
compelling, that it nearly overwhelmed her.

She lifted her head and straightened up, bringing some inches between
herself and Luke in the hope that it would help her to think clearly
again.

But she wasn't able to take her eyes from his, which seemed like two
wells of pure, crystal-blue water that reached down all the way to
his soul, in which craving and fear, shyness and opening up, holding
back and yielding battled for dominance.

Luke took her hand between his, giving her the touch of the sweaty
palm of his left hand and the smooth, ever-cool synthflesh covering
of his right. He spoke her name in a raspy voice. Nothing more, just
that - "Mara..." But she could feel the unspoken, shy request for her
to take the lead, one way or another.

At that moment, she knew that if she would want him to drop the last
barrier that kept them from giving each other what her heated flesh
so sorely craved, Luke would do so willingly. He would do it because
his need to seek shelter in the comforting warmth of another human
being, his need to feel something that was the opposite of his fear
and pain, had become so great that he didn't really have any other
choice.

And precisely because of that, it would be *wrong*. Mara knew that in
giving his body, Luke would also be giving her his soul. In a
different way, he already had allowed her to touch his soul; and a
soul was a precious and a fragile thing to touch, not something to be
given - or taken - cheaply; it was something to be cherished. She had
no right to exploit the situation; it was as simple as that.

"Luke..." Her voice sounded rough, as well. "When I said that no one
will ever hurt you again if I can hinder it, I meant *including
myself*." She allowed for a second to let her words sink in with
him. "I think we should both go to sleep now."

She got ready to get up from the bed, but Luke caught her by the
hand. "Mara, I don't think I *can* sleep tonight. Not with all this
stuff still in my head." She nodded in understanding and sat down
again. Again, Mara stroked his cheeks and hair with her hands, as if
to wipe the bad thoughts and memories from his head; but this time,
her touch felt to him like Leia's touch, holding no desire, just
tender, heartfelt affection.

Gently pressing against his shoulder, she directed him to lie down;
then spread the blanket over him and stretched out beside him. Mara
continued to stroke Luke's blonde-haired head until he had fallen
asleep; then she slipped under the blanket herself. She was tired,
after all, and didn't want to bother to get up and go downstairs; and
even more so, she didn't want to leave Luke alone now - who could
tell what other bad dreams would come to him tonight? And it was the
only blanket in the room, which wasn't well heated; and Yavin IV
nights could get quite cold.

Heck, Luke would understand. She had already made the decision to do
the right thing; what more was she supposed to do, put an ignited
lightsaber between them? She only wanted to keep warm; and Luke's
body *was* warm. //Why waste the good heat?//, Mara told herself as
she snuggled up to him and fell asleep herself.**

With a sigh, Mara drove the memory from her head. "Sorry for my
naughty mind. See you later then," she said with a smile and left,
hurriedly picking up the neatly folded over-robe that lay on the
room's single chair.

Luke sighed himself when he noticed that Mara had taken *his* robe
with her. He picked up her over-robe from the floor and brushed out
the wrinkles with his hand. Well, that would have to do. Good thing
that he wasn't tall, and had always preferred his robes short.
Nevertheless, he would have to find a moment when he and Mara could
exchange the robes back before anyone noticed the switch. It really
seemed like it was one of those days when the embarrassment never
ended...

Corran, the early riser, was already fully dressed and ready to go
when he encountered Mara in the corridor. He noticed that the same
couldn't be said of her, but that the female Jedi trainee was
barefoot, and dressed in a nightgown under a robe that wasn't her own
size. He also noticed that she came from the upper levels of the
temple, not from her room, which led to the assumption that she
hadn't spent the night in her own bed.

Quick thinking and perceptive as she was, Mara immediately noticed
what Corran was wondering about. "None of your business, CorSec!" she
snapped; even before she told him "Good Morning!"

*****

Luke Skywalker stood on the rooftop of the Great Temple, feeling the
night air cool his face. He pensively ran a finger across his cheek,
tracing the scars that hailed back to when he had been attacked by
the Wampa. Those scars had faded to near invisibility over time; but
the event that had caused them, and what had followed it, had been
brought back to his mind in an unexpected and wondrous way.

**"You will go to the Dagobah system," Ben had said. Nothing else, no
explanation; what to speak of telling him how he was supposed to
survive even half of the next hour in the icy snowstorm.

He saw the cloud of snow that was being kicked up by a big animal's
swift feet. But he did not see the Taun Taun or its rider, for his
consciousness was already fading into darkness.

He did not know how long he had lain there when the black darkness
parted to admit a light. A faint, distant glow at first; but light
nonetheless. It came nearer (or became brighter?) and expanded into a
glowing ball that seemed like a miniature, orange-colored sun; or
like the embodiment of all that was warm and luminous.

But its radiance was not the kind of dazzling brightness that hurt
the eyes. It was a gentle glow. And its heat didn't hurt either.
Strangely enough, not even the snow melted under it.

Then, as that ball of orange light took on an even more distinct
shape, Luke saw a figure emerge from it. It was a woman, dressed in a
long, shimmering garment of red, orange, and gold color that seemed
to be woven of fire spun with silk. It had wide sleeves that
resembled fiery wings, and reached all the way down to cover her
feet. A red belt embroidered with gold thread encircled her narrow
waist; but she wore no other ornaments, her beauty was such that she
required none.

Her eyes shone like gold heated to melting point; but their color was
that of sun-kissed forest leaves, or of green gemstones that had been
cut and polished so that they shone like the eyes of a night-hunting
animal. Her ivory-colored skin was smooth and flawless, and seemed to
shine with warmth and aliveness. She was encircled by a halo of fire
that seemed like an extension of her long, flowing mane of red-gold
hair - or was her hair itself wrought of fire?

The Fire Woman smiled at Luke and gracefully opened her arms, making
her sleeves unfold as if they truly were wings. As she reached out to
touch his head with her hand, he felt a wave of warmth flow into him.
Then she covered his body with her fiery one and kissed him. The
split second before her mouth met his, it felt to Luke as if a tiny
flame was leaping over to his lips to caress them. The Fire Woman
embraced him and gave him all her love; and he understood that she
had come to him to keep him warm. To keep him alive. **

Luke exhaled deeply, but the memory of that strange experience
(dream? vision?) did not leave him completely just yet. //Maybe Uncle
Owen was right - I *am* too much of a dreamer. //

Not that he had ever believed that the Fire Woman had been real. Most
likely (as Luke now reminded himself) it had all been a hallucination
caused by severe hypothermia. He had been so close to death, no
wonder he had seen all sorts of things...

But it did seem like a wonder that it had returned to him. That he
had again found himself wrapped in hair of silken fire interwoven
with spun gold, again looked into jewel-green eyes that seemed as if
they would glow in the dark, again been kissed by soft lips that felt
so warm and good and *alive*. But this time, it had been real.

As real as Mara's embrace, as real as her kiss. Oh yes, he did
remember that; for now that the first shock had worn off, he had
started to recall the previous night's events; and now they were on
his mind just as much as the Fire Woman he had never truly forgotten.

But how was he supposed to make sense of it all? And how was he
supposed to convey his thoughts and feelings to Mara if he couldn't
even understand them himself?

//I can't just go to her and tell her that she reminded me of the
Fire Woman from my dream. No way, // Luke thought. The Mara Jade he
knew would most likely glare at him with a sarcastic smirk and say
that she'd heard much better pick-up lines; she could be so merciless.

And so merciful. Gentle hands wiping away his tears; green eyes
shimmering with warmth and compassion, the same eyes that he had seen
blazing with bitter hatred only two years ago.

Mara was it all. Tender like a young bird and terrible like a Krayt
dragon. Fire and ice; and pleasant sunshine filtered through fresh
spring leaves. This much he knew. The only thing he didn't know was
what she was *to him*.

Luke remembered how it had been with him and Leia before he had found
out that she was his twin sister. That bewilderment of not knowing,
but feeling something inside his heart that was not merely an
understandable attraction and admiration for a brave and pretty Rebel
leader, but something that was deeper, and stronger, and (as he had
felt without being able to explain why) *older*. Even though he had
never seen her before, even though he was a farm boy and she was a
Princess, he'd felt from the beginning that he and Leia somehow
belonged together, that they *should have always been together*.

That sense of belonging, and not knowing why... He did feel something,
some strange thing like that with Mara. It had even been there during
their first meeting on Myrkr when he had looked into her eyes, those
fiery emeralds that had sparkled with venomous hatred, and had seen
the sadness behind that hate. Somehow, that sadness had touched him;
and he had felt an elusive notion that the Force itself had brought
him together with her for... what?

He did not know. But he was sure that Mara was not another long-lost
sister. //Triplets? That would be too unlikely. // And it was
different with her than it had been with Leia. Under a thin veneer of
aristocratic pride, his sister had been gentle and loving towards him
from the very beginning; and even that superficial notion of rank-
consciousness had vanished soon.

Luke still remembered (not without some amusement) how Han had been
quite jealous of him for some time (though that had never harmed
their friendship), because even while Leia had let the Corellian
taste her icy haughtiness and fiery temper, she had easily shown her
love and care and even her admiration for the young farm boy hero.

With Mara, it had been *much* different. Their relationship had
started off with her wanting to kill him; and while she had abandoned
that idea, she wasn't exactly sweet with him. Neither did she feel
like she had to show him respect just because he was a Jedi Master.
She was as stroppy and sarcastic towards him as towards anyone else,
and often more so. The challenging glance he got from her more often
than not could have cut transparisteel. Mara *was* a challenge, which
made being around her both exciting and frightening. But then, she
could make him feel as if a sun was rising inside his heart with just
one of her smiles.

No, the feelings he had for Mara were not like those he had for his
sister, although he felt a peculiar mixture of admiration, affection
and protectiveness towards both women.

When Leia had come into his life, it had given him a sense of coming
home. Mara was not home, not peace; she was challenge, and sometimes
she nearly drove him crazy. And yet, there was this sense of
*belonging*; as if somehow deep inside, they had the same kind of
soul. It was not the feeling that they "should have always been
together"; it was as if they always *had* been together, as if, on
some intangible level, they knew each other so deeply as if they had
known each other for millennia.

//...like I've known you for a thousand years...// It was not just the
cold night wind that made his eyes water when Luke remembered how he
had first said those words; for he also remembered *to whom* he had
said them.

*Jem.* The young Ysanna tribeswoman had been a brave and beautiful
warrior; a natural with a lightsaber. //Like Mara. // She had given
him back a sense of aliveness when he'd emerged deeply scarred from
the black depth of the Dark Side. And he loved her.

*Loved* her, not "had" loved her. He hadn't been able (or willing) to
forget what she had meant to him; and neither had the pain of her
death abated. It was yet another bitter loss that he never spoke
about, for he didn't expect that anyone would understand.

And even more bitter was the knowledge that she had been killed
*because she had defended him*. (Maybe everyone who cared about him
had to die. Maybe he was a curse.) It wouldn't have happened if the
Emperor's Dark Jedi hadn't come for him. And the Emperor wouldn't
have wanted him so badly if he hadn't been his once before, if he
hadn't turned to the Dark Side.

The first time he had allowed himself to feel "more" for a student of
his, she had died because of his Darkness. *He* had killed Jem;
though not directly. But he was guilty all the same. And he knew that
with all that guilt and grief inside, he could not give his heart
again. Never, perhaps.

And maybe that would be better. At least no one else would get hurt
because of his curse, because of his dark guilt. Maybe he was meant
to be alone. Maybe that would be his atonement.

But the feeling of resting in those arms, wrapped in fire and silk...
He would never forget that, either. Yes, maybe Uncle Owen had been
right in saying that he was too much of a dreamer. And there was yet
another that Luke remembered his Uncle saying. The conversation had
not been meant for his ears, but he had overheard it by chance.

//"The boy's got to much fire in him. He's coming after Anakin, I
tell ya."//

Too much fire in him, too much fire in his heart... At the moment, Luke
was grateful for the cooling night air. He stepped towards the edge
of the temple roof, raising his face towards the sky that was glowing
with a faint orange light. Spreading his arms to the side, he stood
poised for a moment, feeling the breath of the night wind. Then he
let himself fall.

The cold air rushed past beside him, jumped in his face, dragged at
his hair and clothes. And for a moment, it granted him
forgetfulness. //There is no emotion; there is peace. // With the
help of the Force, Luke spun around in the air and landed gracefully
on his feet.

*****

To be continued...



*******************
Here to learn (7/?)

By Devi

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

Overall rating is PG-13.

For disclaimer, please refer to chapter 1.

Additional disclaimer: parts of the dialogue in this chapter (if
you're familiar with "Dark Apprentice", you will notice which ones)
have been written by KJA, and I don't claim any credit for them.

Much, much thanks to my fab beta Sienn :-)
______________________________________________________________________

Mara Jade was packing her things. She hadn't brought many things with
her when she had come to the Academy (in fact, she didn't own many
things to begin with); but she took her time to neatly fold her
belongings, and then make her bed as meticulously as she could. Too
bad she hadn't brought her whole set of vibroblades with her, she
could have spent some extra time sharpening them with care and
precision.

Meticulous work had always helped her when she needed to calm herself
or take her mind off something. And right now, she wasn't exactly at
her most calm. Outwardly, yes. But inwardly, she felt as agitated as
a newly caught wild Rancor that was pacing back and forth in its cage.

As much as Mara tried to convince herself otherwise, she didn't feel
fully comfortable with her decision. The decision to leave. And she
didn't feel comfortable where she was, which was why she had decided
to leave in the first place.

There was something decidedly disquieting in the atmosphere;
something subtle, but unmistakable. At least it was unmistakable to
*her*. Since her experiences in the temples of Drommond Kaas, she
would have instantly recognized that feeling anywhere. *Sith vibes. *
The whole place was reeking of Sith vibes.

Mara knew that she was most likely not mistaken in connecting those
vibes to the dark "he" that her and Luke had encountered during their
meditation in the grotto pool; and to the Dark Man that had caused
the Holocron to melt just when Master Skywalker had used the device
to get some information on the ancient Sith Lord Exar Kun. The Dark
Man who was most likely the very one who had killed Gantoris, and
seduced Kyp.

Kun, was it him? She did not know for sure. But Mara did know that
she had always gotten into trouble when she had ignored her gut
feelings. And this time, all her feelings told her that there was
some powerful Darksider or another out there; and that "he" was a
threat to them all.

As far as she could tell, Luke was somewhat aware of the menace that
was waiting to strike, but (so she feared) not of its full extent. He
hadn't exactly been eager to discuss the subject matter with her or
Corran (who next to her was the one among the trainees that was most
aware of the lurking doom), and neither had he been willing to listen
to them when they had voiced their concern.

Either Luke thought that he didn't have to take their warnings
seriously (a thought that hurt Mara, because it implied that he
didn't take *her* seriously). Or he *did* take them seriously, but
felt that dealing with the impending threat was his task, and his
alone. In any case, he didn't seem to want her - or anyone's - advice
or help when it came to that. //Oh yes, the great, great, heroic Jedi
Master who is out to save the galaxy single-handedly!//

Even worse than that was the thought that maybe she wouldn't be
powerful enough to help even if Luke would want her to. It was not a
distinct knowledge, just a feeling. But then, she had always gotten
into trouble when she had ignored her feelings.

//So I'd better arrange for myself to be elsewhere when the shit hits
the fan. Given the circumstances, that would be the wisest thing, I
suppose.// Mara had always striven to do the wisest thing; she wasn't
tolerant of stupidity in herself or others. The only problem was that
this time, doing the wise thing meant that she had to leave the other
Jedi trainees alone with whatever trouble was in store for them. That
she had to leave Luke alone.

Luke... Now that was another reason for her uneasiness. In a short
duration of time, the young Jedi Master had already touched her,
changed her, much more than she wanted to admit.

And she did not want to let anyone change her. She wanted to live by
her own decisions, her own values. Not just "wanted", *needed to*.

She'd had someone else - the Emperor - make all the decisions for her
for far too long. He had defined who she was, how she was to think,
to feel. How much she was allowed to feel at all.

There had been rules; some explicit, some unspoken. Sex as such had
never been forbidden to the Emperor's Hand; it had even been
encouraged when it had been conducive to the success of a mission, as
a bait to lure a victim. What had been forbidden to her was love.

Mara remembered how at the age of sixteen, she had been sent to
Yinchorr, the inhospitable world where the best of stormtroopers had
been trained to become Royal Guards. The Emperor had decided that she
was to take part in that training in order to further develop her
combat skills. The elite soldiers who had been chosen by height among
other criteria had been surprised that such a small person was to
join their ranks; and even more surprised to find that there was a
young girl under the uniform that Mara had been given to wear in
order to make her blend in with her co-trainees.

They hadn't questioned the Emperor's decision to send her to them, of
course. No one who questioned the Emperor's decisions would have ever
been chosen to serve him as a Royal Guard. That hadn't meant that
they had readily accepted her, though. Even when it had become
evident that Mara could handle the tough training as well as the men,
it hadn't earned her their respect, but only their envy. All the hand-
picked trainees had thoroughly believed in the Imperial doctrine,
according to which women were just as inferior as nonhumans; so to
them, the sight of a female trainee who was able to keep up with them
and even best some of them had been offensive in itself.

It hadn't been long until Mara had been hated, and bullied. Brutally
at times. There had been only one exception, one trainee who had
respected her. Although, at first, he hadn't dared to show it out of
fear of his comrades' disdain. His name had been Kar Maros.

He had been tall, strong and handsome; with black locks and the
brightest blue eyes that Mara had ever seen before she had met Luke.
No, he hadn't shown her his respect and appreciation at first, but
she had felt it.

Then once, when three other trainees had wanted to rape her, he had
interfered and prevented them from doing so. Mara had naturally been
impressed that he had been willing to take the risk of a three-
against-one fight for her sake, even more so since she had been well
aware that he could have been court-martialed for fighting with his
comrades. Fortunately, none of them had dared to report the incident.

But from then on, it had become known that Maros would not tolerate
any insult to "his lady". He, who up to then had been respected as
one of the most promising trainees, became almost as much of an
outsider as Mara had been before; but she had been left alone ever
since.

Since his comrades hadn't wanted to talk with him anymore, Kar had
started to socialize with Mara instead. When they had had the time,
they had talked about whatever was important to them. Mara had asked
Kar about his plans and dreams for the future. "Be a good Royal
Guard," he had replied, "Then become a Sovereign Protector; and maybe
a Dark Jedi. I'm slightly Force sensitive, they've tested me. And one
day, I want to die in a brave battle for our glorious Emperor
Palpatine."

The person she had been then had been pleased to hear about his
devotion to the New Order. Nevertheless, she had said in a low
voice, "I don't want to die." She had wished that she could have told
him about her own dreams. But she had known that for an Emperor's
Hand, dreams weren't allowed.

Then, during a dangerous training mission, Kar had saved Mara's life.
They had fallen in love after that. Later, during another training
mission for which the two of them had been sent out into the
wilderness alone, they had made love. And they had secretly sworn to
each other that they would find a way to remain together.

Then, one day, the Emperor had come for a visit. He hadn't seen it in
Mara's gait that she was no longer a virgin; neither had he read it
in her eyes. But he had known it because her mind had always been an
open book to him.

Her heart had nearly stopped when Palpatine had demanded to speak to
her alone. She had known what would follow. The fact that she had
given herself to someone out of her own choice, without his order,
without his consent, had been a major crime in the evil ruler's eyes.
The Emperor had berated her, then blasted her with Force lightning.

The pain of this punishment had been indescribably terrible. Even
worse, it had caused her to have a miscarriage. Mara hadn't even
known that she had been pregnant with Kar's child; she had thought
that the physical hardship of the training was the sole reason for
her not getting her period.

Losing her baby before she had even had the chance to learn of his
(or her?) existence had maybe been her worst experience while in the
Emperor's service. But even then, she had not questioned her master's
actions. As for Maros, he had been sent on a suicide mission as his
punishment for messing with the Emperor's property, and had been
killed as expected. Mara had understood her lesson well: she was not
allowed to love. And that lesson had become deeply imbedded in her
very being; so much that she couldn't forget it even now that the
Emperor was gone; so much that most of the time, she wasn't even
aware that there was something to forget, something that was cutting
her off from who she truly was. No, as far as she was concerned, she
*was* being herself, wasn't she?

But now, there was Luke. Luke, who had such a loving, caring, open
heart by nature; who was so much the opposite of what she had learned
to be that sometimes he nearly drove her crazy just by that. And
naturally, subtly, being with him had affected her. Changed her.

In some ways, she hadn't been able to learn as much as she had hoped
to learn when she had come to Yavin IV. In other aspects, she had
learned much more than she had ever expected to; and not just during
the official training sessions.

The Emperor had taught her to use the Force *as such* - with a slant
towards the Dark Side, of course. She had never become truly Dark,
not like Darth Vader had been; but she hadn't been Light, either. She
had simply been taking care of business, and been efficient at it.

So efficient, in fact, that Luke hadn't been able to teach her many
new things in terms of technique. Mara had already known how to use
the Force for longer than he had. She had already known how to handle
a lightsaber, and many more things. What Luke *had* been able to
teach her about, both by his lessons and by being who he was, was the
Light Side.

And the essence of the Light Side was caring, and serving, and being
there for others. The other day, when she had listened to Cilghal's
tales about the destruction that Daala had wrought on Mon Calamari,
Mara had noticed that she cared about the things that happened to the
Mon Cal; that she cared about the people out there, period.

She had once more been reminded that beyond their little (though
important) world of Jedi training, there was still a whole big galaxy
of people. Many of which were suffering. Many of which needed help.

Of course, she didn't think that she could help them all. //That's
the difference between Luke and I. He will always want to save the
galaxy. That's part of his noble nature, I know. But it also means
that he won't find peace for himself. Not in a long time, anyhow. Me?
I'm thinking about a smaller number of people, those that I can
directly do something for. The people that are relying on me.//

The Smugglers' Alliance... Karrde had put much responsibility into her
hands. Responsibility that she wanted to be worthy of. Responsibility
she had also feared, as she now realized. Not that she hadn't been
entrusted with important work when she had been the Emperor's Hand.
Much of what she had done then had influenced the fate of the Empire
to a great degree. But at that time, like Luke had remarked
correctly, her work had been a solitary one. Now she had to make
decisions for an entire group of people.

//So in coming to Yavin, have I been running from the discomfort of
responsibility? Have I wanted a break from the pressure? Yes, at
least to some degree,// Mara had to admit to herself. And she didn't
like that realization. Running away was not a thing she liked to see
herself doing; she'd never been a quitter. Never wanted to be.

But if she ran away one more time in order to stop her running away
and return to her responsibilities, could that be so wrong? As
important as her Jedi training maybe was, it was just something that
she was doing for herself. Using her time to do something for herself
when she had obligations towards others was an indulgence; and Mara
had never been into indulgence, especially not at the expense of the
loyal fulfillment of duty that was the heart of her value system.

She had come to learn what she needed in order to be better equipped
to do her work and live up to her responsibilities; and now that she
had seemingly reached the limit of what Luke could teach her, it was
time for her to move on and actually *do* her work once again.

Still, there was a bitter irony in the fact that in some way, she was
leaving the one who had taught her so much because of the very things
he had taught her. She hoped that Luke would understand. He would
have to understand...

*****

Mara could feel her inner tension building up like a current of
electricity. She was now about to face the hardest part: having to
confront Luke with her decision.

As the redhead emerged from the turbolift, she blurted out, "Luke,
I've had enough of this!" She didn't feel like offering an
introduction to what she had to say. //Just get this over and done
with.//

Streen and Kirana Ti, who were just getting ready for a short trek
through the jungle, pretended not to notice her. Although they didn't
know Mara very well, both the Dathomiri woman and the former Bespin
gas prospector already knew her well enough to know that it was not a
wise idea to get in her way when she was pissed off; and at the
moment, she seemed to be just that.

Luke gave Mara a "What's the matter?" glance.

"I can't deny what I've learned here, Luke," she said in a somewhat
calmer, "please let me explain" tone laced with impatience and
uneasiness, "But Talon Karrde gave me control of the Smugglers'
Alliance, and I've got too much to do. I can't just meditate all day
long."

"We weren't just meditating." Luke sounded calm, reasonable; but what
was written on his blue eyes was a barely concealed scream: "Mara,
why?"

Mara glanced aside. Even in the dim light, Luke could see how her
face flushed as she was reminded of the hours she had spent with him,
had *liked* to spend with him, since her coming to Yavin IV. Her mind
was assaulted by pictures of them practicing together with pleasure,
them talking, tumbling over the grass together, laughing... //No, don't
think of this now!//

"I need to send for another transport to get out of here, since your
prize student ran off with my ship," she said; part of her wanting to
sound just as unfriendly and sarcastic as she did, another part
feeling guilty about speaking to Luke in this tone when it was plain
to see that he was already feeling hurt about her wanting to leave as
such. But right now, her familiar tough and rough persona was what
she felt most safe with. It was her shield, her only place to hide.

Her insensitive reference to Kyp really hurt Luke, but he was also
amused to hear about her predicament. //Serves her right not to get
away that easily,// he thought. It was a nasty thought, he knew that,
not exactly proper for a Jedi Master; but heck, how was he supposed
to feel? What could Mara expect, that he *thanked* her for running
away like that? And yes, he did take it personal. Maybe he didn't
have a right or a reason to take it so personal, but he did.

Outwardly, however, he took care not to let either of the two
emotions show. He sounded reasonable and willing to help as he
said, "We've got a communications setup in the second-tier war room.
You can call Karrde and request a new ship."

Mara snorted. "Karrde only lets me contact him at prearranged
intervals. He keeps moving around - says it's because he's afraid
someone has a bounty on his head. I suspect he just doesn't want to
be bothered. He claims that he's retired from the smuggling life and
wants to live as a private citizen."

//Which means all the more responsibility for you,// Luke mentally
added the obvious implication. As much as he didn't like Mara's
decision, he *could* understand her motivation. Responsibility,
loyalty and duty - those were things he himself strongly believed in,
as well. Mara's loyalty to Karrde was yet another thing that endeared
her to him; even though right now he wished he wouldn't remember how
much he liked her.

Nevertheless, against his will, Luke's eyes continued to rest on the
young master trader's chiseled face. //She'd probably kill me if I
told her this, but she looks beautiful when she's upset. Gods, why do
I notice this? I shouldn't be thinking along those lines. Especially
not now.// Mara was leaving, she *had to* leave. Luke sighed. Whether
he liked it or not, it was a fact that Mara had her own life; a life
with which came duties that were more important, had to be more
important, than whatever hopes or feelings he had. But still...

"You can always contact Coruscant. I'm sure they'll send a shuttle
for you. In fact, we're probably due for another supply run anyway,"
Luke said in an agreeable voice.

//Gods, how can he be so friendly? Why does he have to be so friendly
and helpful just now? Oh damn, I'd prefer if he would hate me. I'd
prefer if I could still hate him. If only I would still want to kill
him, then things wouldn't be so complicated. Oh, damn!//

Mara pursed her lips. "It would be nice to have the New Republic
chauffeur *me* around for a change."

"I don't know who you'd get to volunteer for a brutal job like that."

//Brutal job, huh?// Mara found it hard to suppress a smile. When he
wanted to, Luke had a ready wit that equalled hers; and he could be
just as refreshingly disrespectful. She had never told him how much
she appreciated this aspect of his, though; and she certainly wasn't
going to tell him now. She was leaving, and that was it. This was not
the time to like Luke Skywalker!

She dryly said: "Well, no matter who I'll be going with, I'm going.
I've already packed my things."

"Already packed, huh? So it's all decided. Heck, I don't know why you
even bothered to tell me!" Luke replied in a harsh tone, now sounding
every bit as hurt as he felt like.

For a moment, Mara just stared at him, almost frightened by his
sudden outburst. Since Streen and Kirana Ti had already left, there
was no one else around except for Artoo, who bleeped, startled at
seeing his owner so upset, but was silenced by a wave of Luke's hand
which the little astromech interpreted as meaning "Shut up, this is
between us sentients!"

"Why I bothered to...?" Mara was now worked-up as well. "Luke, you're
way out of the line! What gives you the right to judge me like that?"

"Judge you? I don't even need to judge you. It's plain to see what
you're doing, isn't it? Mara does what Mara wants, that's what it all
boils down to!" Luke shook his head with a bitter sigh. "And I
thought that you..."

"You thought *what*?"

"Nothing, Mara. Absolutely nothing." Luke averted his eyes that were
slightly shimmering with nascent tears of frustration.

"Luke..."

"Hell, what do you think it feels like to lose all my best students?"
The young Jedi Master didn't sound angry anymore; just hurt, and
somewhat tired. "Gantoris, Kyp - and now you."

"Well, I guess I'm supposed to feel flattered that at least I mean as
much to you as Kyp - who, *as opposed to me*, has turned to the Dark
Side at the first opportunity!" Mara snapped. She had almost started
to feel sorry for her unfriendliness towards Luke - she could see
that he was suffering, and she didn't want him to suffer. However,
his last remark had ruined it all. How could he dare to compare her
to Kyp, that crazy kid who had stolen her Headhunter and run off to
join the Dark Side!

Luke stared at her, not saying a word, but tensed as a coiled spring;
and she gazed back, their eyes burning like torches of blue and green
fire. Both hurt, both seeing how hurt the other one was, both not
wanting to hurt each other; but oh, it was all so complicated...

Then, in a sudden outburst of emotion that perhaps shocked himself
just as much as her, he took Mara's head between his hands and
pleaded with a raw urgency she had never see in him before, nor
expected to see: "Mara, please... I don't want you to leave! Please
don't leave!"

Mara's eyes widened. For a split second that seemed frozen in time,
she looked completely vulnerable in her utter bewilderment as she
half-subconsciously realized the truth: This wasn't just about Luke
not wanting to lose another promising Jedi student. He didn't want to
lose *her*.

As she felt shaken by that realization, she noticed how close Luke's
face was now to hers, how their lips were only inches apart... Mara
shook her head, almost as if shaking herself free from a spell. //I
have to leave *now*, or I won't leave at all.//

"No, Luke. I can't stay. Please try to understand." Though her tone
was now one of pleading, too, it didn't sound urgent, but gentle.
Luke nodded slowly, a gesture of sadness - and acceptance. He did
understand. It wasn't easy for Mara, either; and perhaps the best he
could do at the moment was not to make it harder for her. "Well,
since you don't like big sentimental farewell scenes - especially
public farewell scenes - I suppose this is our goodbye..."

Mara came nearer until her face was as close to his as it had been
before. "No, Luke." She kissed him on the lips, a kiss in which he
felt her warmth, her sadness, and her affection; maybe (though he
didn't dare to hope that much) even a promise of return. - "*This* is
our goodbye." Then she turned and walked away without a further word.

*****

As it turned out, Mara found that there were no less than two famous
heroes of the New Republic - Han Solo and Lando Calrissian - who were
willing to volunteer for the "brutal job" of giving her a ride off
Yavin.

When Han emerged from the `Millennium Falcon', Luke abandoned both
his gloom and his Jedi Master dignity and rushed forward to greet the
Corellian with an enthusiastic embrace. No matter how much of the
former farm boy's world was being turned upside down, some constants
would always remain. He would always be happy to see Han. Especially
now that his responsibilities left him so little time to be with his
family.

"Enjoying your little vacation away from the thick of galactic
politics, Luke?" Han asked.

The happiness vanished from the younger man's face, almost as if
someone had switched off a glowpanel. "I wouldn't exactly say that."

Then Lando came out of the `Falcon'. He had obviously taken care to
look even more suave and dashing than usual, and he was neither
willing nor able to hide how intend he was to impress Mara Jade, who
just emerged from the Great Temple.

//I wonder what he sees in this choleric ex-Emperor's Hand,// Han
thought, slightly frowning and shaking his head. Then it suddenly
dawned upon him that his beloved Leia had also shown a fire-and-ice
temper - especially towards him - when he had first met her. So there
could well be more to Mara than there appeared to be at first glance.
But her and Lando? He could only hope that his friend wouldn't get
burned too much.

As much as he tried not to let his emotions show, Luke couldn't fully
suppress a frown himself; especially when Lando rushed down the ramp,
almost tripping over himself in his eagerness to meet Mara, then
volunteered to take her heavy bag, so obviously trying to look every
inch the gallant gentleman.

//Doesn't he see how he's making a fool of himself?// Luke thought.
He didn't like the sight; and the way he felt about it was something
he liked even less. What was the matter with him? Lando Calrissian
was his friend; he owed him his life, for crying out loud! There was
absolutely *no* reason why he should have any bad feelings towards
Lando. None. But right now, Luke didn't like to see him. At least not
to see him anywhere near Mara Jade.

The young Jedi Master felt somewhat grateful towards Han for
distracting him from those unpleasant thoughts and feelings by
asking, "So, where's Kyp?" even though that question evoked a whole
new string of unpleasant thoughts.

Luke needed a moment to gather his courage before he was able to
answer. He explained that Kyp had run away, and most likely turned to
the Dark Side.

Han was visibly shaken at hearing the bad news. "I don't know what to
do, Luke," he said.

It was heartrending for Luke to see the expression of helpless worry
on his dear friend's face; yet his azure eyes still strayed towards
Mara, who was being escorted into the `Falcon' by Lando. He wished so
much to be able to exchange another word with her. But all he got was
just one single glance as she briefly turned her head. //Do you think
it's that easy for *me*, Luke? Please don't make it any harder,// her
eyes told him.

Then Mara turned her head again. Luke didn't notice the tiny sigh
with which she attempted to get the image of his last glance out of
her head. The last thing that was left for him to see was her red-
gold hair flowing in the wind. That, and Lando wrapping his arm
around her shoulders while giving her a taste of the suave ladykiller
smile he was famous for. //Fine, at least she'll be having enough fun
while she's away!// Luke thought with bitter sarcasm, almost hating
himself for thinking like that. It wasn't really like him to feel
that bitter.

Nodding grimly, he replied to Han "Neither do I." And that was the
truth. He didn't know what to do. He didn't even know how to make
sense of his own feelings. He only knew *how* he felt like. Alone.
Abandoned. Betrayed.

Luke stood as if in a daze, hardly noticing when Han told him goodbye
and entered the `Millennium Falcon', hardly noticing when the ship
lifted off. He didn't intend to look at the `Falcon' while she was
speeding away. He was a Jedi Master. He was supposed to be in control
of his emotions.

But his eyes seemed to have a life of their own. As if compelled by a
magic spell, they followed the `Falcon's' trajectory until she was
but a tiny dot in the distance; and even long after that dot had
vanished, they remained affixed to the sky, like beacons burning with
the light of longing.

*****

To be continued...




*******************
Here to learn (8/?)

by Devi

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

Overall rating is PG-13.

For disclaimer, please refer to chapter 1.

Additional disclaimer: Again, some lines (I think you'll know which
ones) have been written by KJA; and some by the glorious Timothy Zahn
(all hail!).

Much thanks to my beta Sienn :-)
_____________________________________________________________________

**On the `Millennium Falcon', in hyperspace, on the way to Coruscant**

"Would you like some music? I could select something nice for us."

"No, thank you," Mara replied rather sharply. Her face, which had
learned to smile while she'd been on Yavin IV, was now back to her
customary scowl. She didn't like the fact that Lando was approaching
her every few minutes with offers of entertainment options or
specially prepared food or whatever. She liked it even less when he
used the word "us" in connection with her and him.

The way she had shrugged off the arm that he had wrapped around her
shoulders as they had entered the `Falcon' should have given him a
clue, shouldn't it? But then, men were said to be creatures of slow
understanding. And the fact that they would have to remain together
on the same not-too-big ship for as long as the journey to Coruscant
would take meant that she couldn't show her annoyance as openly as
she would have done in a situation where she could simply walk away.

Not that she had a completely bad opinion of Lando. Luke had told her
once that his first encounter with Calrissian had consisted of Lando
getting out on top of the `Falcon' in order to pull him into said
craft with three TIEs in hot pursuit. Anyone who did such a thing to
save the life of someone he'd never met before couldn't be a bad
person. She did believe that, no matter what his external demeanor,
Lando was probably quite a decent guy on the inside. If only he would
give up those ridiculous, exaggerated efforts to woo her and behave
in a more natural manner!

//What a difference to Luke,// Mara thought. Jedi Master or not, Luke
Skywalker would always remain a simple, honest, charmingly shy farm
boy. She'd seldom met anyone so refreshingly unsophisticated. Not
that Luke was na? - at least not in the sense of "stupid". She'd
seldom met anyone so intelligent and resourceful, either. But even
though in many ways he was wise beyond his years, he had that unique
kind of innocent aura that children have when they look at the world
through big eyes filled with wonder.

Mara sighed. She knew she'd better stop that train of thought. No use
to think about Luke now. //When you leave something behind, you
mustn't look back.// She'd learned that when her life had become one
of changes. Now she'd left Yavin IV behind, and that was it. Time to
concentrate on the tasks ahead. Plus she definitely didn't want to
remind herself of the last glance she'd received from Luke when she
had boarded the `Falcon'. He had looked so hurt, like someone who
just had the weight of a great loss come crashing down on him. //A
great loss? What great loss? I can't mean that much to him; he would
have shown me. Would he? - Anyway, enough of this!//

How had she come to think of Luke, anyhow? Ah yes, the difference
between him and Lando... Well, *that* difference definitely existed.
Mara softly chuckled to herself as she thought of that particular
morning when Luke had woken up with her not-exactly-fully-dressed
self lying on top of him. He had been *so* embarrassed... Now if it
would have been Lando... She felt herself blush just from merely
thinking about what Lando Calrissian would have done in a situation
like that.

But as for Luke, she wouldn't mind if he was a little less shy... //No!
I wanted to stop those thoughts, I *will* stop those thoughts. Even
if I have to enter a conversation with Lando in order to do so. Or
maybe I could have a talk with Han. Or even play Sabacc with him.
There must be *some* distraction available on this ship...//

*****

**On Yavin IV**

The shadow came creeping over the jungle. It consisted of darkness,
but not the everyday kind of darkness that vanishes when you turn on
the light. It was a darkness that seemed to be an animate thing, a
hungry creature eager to swallow all light.

Luke could see the shadow closing in; and with it, the cold, fearsome
whispers came. Or rather, became louder, more insistent; for that
whispering voice was now constantly there, just like it had been on
Byss. It was the voice of the Dark Side itself, a voice that seemed
to be wrought of all that is cold and merciless and terrifying.

//No!//

"Oh *yes*," said the chorus of whispers, which was now completely
filling Luke's ears so that he could no longer hear any other
sound. "We know each other so well, don't we? You're one of my kind,
Lord Skywalker."

//No! I know the Darkness, but I no longer answer to it.//

"So?" the Darkness seemed to say. "But you still *fear* me, don't
you?"

Luke shuddered as a shockwave of icy darkness came rushing towards
him. Suddenly, where there had been trees, there were only black,
charred stumps; where there had been people - the small group of Jedi
trainees that was standing nearby - there were only walking skeletons
that were also burnt black, as if they had all suffered the same fate
as Gantoris. Smoke was still rising from them; but Luke felt only
cold, as cold as Hoth. An icy, claw-like hand was touching his heart,
then closing around it to squash it. He couldn't breathe. Even the
sky turned dark now.

As his legs gave way under him, a strong arm grabbed him around the
waist, thus keeping him from fully collapsing on the ground. "Are you
alright, Master Skywalker?" The voice, as well as the arm, belonged
to Streen.

The sky was sky again. The trees were trees. And the usual heat had
again replaced the cold. Luke had never thought that he would ever
feel so grateful for the humid jungle heat. When he had gathered
enough breath to speak, he answered, "Yes, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You look really pale."

"I'm alright," Luke replied, even though he was still feeling quite
dizzy. "I'm just a bit tired, that's all." He didn't feel comfortable
about lying to Streen; but he didn't want to tell him about his dark
vision, or about how frequent those frightening visions and feelings
had become. He didn't feel up to a talk like the one he'd had with
Corran Horn just a short while ago.

He'd had a little sparring duel with Corran, during which the
Corellian had dumped him to the ground no less than three
times. "Never had much rough and tumble growing up," Luke had excused
himself, but he - and probably also Corran - had known that this was
not the true explanation. Under normal circumstances, Luke was a
*very* skilled fighter. But it hadn't been normal circumstances. Luke
hadn't been his usual self since Mara had left. He tried to be there
for his students the best he could; but it seemed like every little
bit of his energy that wasn't being sucked up by his terrifying
premonitions went into thinking about the redhead, and wondering what
he had done to make her leave. So he had hardly been able to
concentrate during the practice fight.

Naturally, Corran had wanted to know what was the matter. He had also
brought up the subject of Exar Kun. Hesitatingly, Luke had spoken
about the overwhelming sense of approaching disaster that he had,
combined with the terrible feeling that he wasn't able to do anything
to avert this disaster, no matter what he tried.

Corran had told him that maybe he couldn't - and shouldn't - face the
task of dealing with this threat all by himself; that he should share
more responsibility with the Jedi students. Although Luke realized
that he should consider this advice, he still feared that his
students weren't up to facing a challenge like the one that presented
itself now. If even he, their teacher, didn't know how to defeat Kun,
or whoever the Dark Man was, how could he expect them to be able to
do it?

Corran had also said that Mara hadn't left because Luke had failed
her, but precisely because she had learned from him just what she had
needed to learn; that she had left because she didn't want to fail
those towards she felt responsible.

Deep inside, Luke knew that this was the truth; but it was not a
truth that was easy to accept. //Please try to understand,// Mara's
words echoed inside his mind. Yes, in some ways he did understand why
Mara had had to leave; but another part of him just didn't want to
understand. No matter how valid her reasons were, no matter how
selfish it maybe was of him to be feeling like that, he hadn't wanted
her to leave; and now that she was gone, he constantly felt the void
she'd left behind as if it was a tangible thing.

He still loved training his students, he would always love it; but
every time he saw them without seeing the beautiful redhead in their
midst, it gave him this aching feeling that *something was missing*.
It was even stronger than the sense of loss that he felt in
connection with Gantoris, who wasn't just gone, but dead.

Luke could feel how this feeling of loss, the distraction it caused,
made him weaker; and he knew that he couldn't afford to be weak. Not
now. He knew that disaster was near, so very near. The cold,
whispering voice of the Dark Side was constantly with him, by day and
by night, threatening, taunting.

Even sleep offered no refuge, for his nightmares were worse than
ever. Some were about the Emperor, some about Darth Vader. In one,
there was an endless sea of blood and flames in which he saw the
faces of all the Imperials who had died on the first Death Star, from
Grand Moff Tarkin to the last nameless stormtrooper, and they were
all screaming at him, calling him murderer. But in most of his
terrible dreams, he only saw the Dark Man, that hooded being that was
like a living, whispering shadow, black like an ugly stain, black
like nothingness.

After those nightmares, when he woke up screaming, bathed in cold
sweat, he missed Mara the most, wished desperately for her to be
there to give him shelter from the dark menace that had seemed so
much smaller, so much more distant, when she had still been present.

At that times, snippets of memories surfaced in his mind -

**"Hide the droid and then hit dirt."

They lay flat on the ground, the Imperial shuttle hovering over them
like a bird of prey. The muzzle of Mara's blaster in his face - "Not
a move. Not a sound."

Her warm breath on his face, her arm over his shoulders, her body,
with all its glorious feminine curves, pressed against his - Luke
felt a stirring of which he didn't know whether it was arousal, or
fear, or the mingling of both; and for a moment, he found it
difficult to keep his breathing as quiet as he knew he should.

He wondered whether Mara would turn him over to the stormtroopers, or
simply pull the damn trigger on that blaster she was pressing into
his skin.

But she did neither. There they lay, her arm over his shoulders. His
enemy. His protector.

...their trek through the Myrkr forest, the Imperials wanting him, the
Vornskrs wanting him; and yet he felt that strange sense of security,
knew within a deep part of his soul that he was safe, that he would
always be safe as long as *she* was there. She, who was shooting the
Vornskrs for him; who was sitting awake at night, watching over his
sleep. Guarding him, protecting him...

...Mara holding him in her arms, comforting him, her red-gold hair
enwrapping him like a silken blanket. "No one will ever hurt you
again if I'm there to hinder it." Like a tender angel, like the
embodiment of all that is warm and good, kissing him with lips as
sweet as bantha milk...

His shelter. His protector. His trusted friend.**

"...if I'm there to hinder it." - But she wasn't there; and at those
times, he wondered if anyone had ever died from the despair of
loneliness.

*****

He lay in the snow of Hoth, too weak to move. //Raised in the heat to
die in the cold, what an irony of fate.// The icy night storm was
howling around him, penetrating even his thick clothes to sting his
skin with countless ice needles. His lungs hurt so much from the cold
air that he was almost looking forward to the soon-to-come moment
when he wouldn't be breathing anymore at all.

With his last failing senses, he saw the cloud of snow that was being
kicked up by a Tauntaun's strong hind legs. Its rider pulled on its
reins, bringing it to a stop. Luke lifted his head with the last of
his strength, smiled weakly as he recognized Han, felt a glimmer of
hope that went out when he saw the look on Han's face. It was the
same look that he had given him when he had stood by without
flinching, without a single sign of mercy, while the reborn Emperor
had tortured pregnant Leia with Force lightning.

"You bring only grief to all," Han said in a hard voice, "You bring
only death. I should better leave you here. Better you die here and
now, Sith brood." Then he kicked his Tauntaun's flanks with his heels
and speeded away without a further word.

"No, don't leave me here," Luke whispered, being far too weak to
shout. "I don't ask you to forgive me, but please don't leave me
here; don't let me die all alone!" But he got no answer. The snow was
falling and falling. Soon, it covered him, covered him under layers
and layers of cold whiteness. He knew he was dead; and yet he was
awake, awake for years, awake for centuries, all alone in his white
grave.

"Ah, don't worry, you're not *completely* alone. You still have *me*
for company," a cold, taunting voice said. A black silhouette emerged
from the walls of snow. *The Dark Man.* - "Do you like having me
around?" The Dark Man laughed. It sounded like a snarl. "Not that it
would make any difference if you don't. We'll be together for a long
time. Perhaps for the next four thousand years."

"I'm not yours," Luke whispered. The snow still kept falling, falling
and falling, enclosing him and the Dark Lord with walls and walls of
ice.

"You'll be here with me, little Skywalker, you'll never see the sky
again."

...never see the sky again, never again...

Luke snapped awake. The young Jedi Master sat bolt upright on his
bed, filled with the kind of unnatural alertness that came over him
in moments of great danger. He instantly knew that the dread he felt
did not stem from the nightmare he'd just had.

He was as awake as could be, and yet something was *not right*. Luke
got up and quickly slipped into his robes. Cautiously, he reached out
into the Force to check on his students. They were all sleeping
soundly, almost *too* soundly, as if under a spell. He reached out
further - and stopped, stunned by what he had found. Around the top
of the temple, the Force had been distorted into a cold, black
whirlpool; almost like one of the black holes of the Maw cluster that
sucked in light and spat out deadly radiation. To call it a
disturbance in the Force would have been an understatement.

"Sithspawn!" Luke hissed through clenched teeth. He sprinted to the
door of his room, then turned back to pick up his lightsaber. He had
the unpleasant feeling that he might need it. Marching through the
deserted corridors, he had an eerie reminiscence of how he had walked
up the stairs on the second Death Star that had led him towards his
first confrontation with the Emperor.

While in the turbolift that took him to the upper levels of the
temple, he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to loosen the
knot of fear in his belly that felt like a claw of durasteel grabbing
his intestines. //Calm, you must remain calm...// Luke had learned that
a Jedi's strength came from his inner peace, and for what he would
have to face, he would need every bit of strength that he had.

But when he stepped out onto the roof of the temple, his heart
fluttered like a trapped bird, so shocked was he by what he saw. With
the back to him, there stood Kyp Durron, his hands raised to the sky
as if to summon something by a silent call.

And there, hanging suspended in the sky that was shining with a faint
orange glow from the rising gas giant, was the thing he had called
for: a sharp arrow of indestructible alloy, its shape a counterpart
of the spike of ice-cold fear that Luke felt in his stomach. It was
steaming in the cold air of dawn, reflecting Yavin's light like a
polished gem, beautiful and dreadful.

The Sun Crusher.

Kyp spun around to glower at Luke, his shiny black cape swirling with
the rapid motion. Luke reeled backward as if shoved by the sheer
force of the young man's angry stare.

He wasn't willing to accept defeat, though. "How dare you bring that
weapon back!" he said. "It goes against all the Jedi knowledge I have
taught you."

Kyp only laughed at him, mocking Luke Skywalker's "feeble teachings"
and boasting that he had learned much more in the meantime.
Indicating the Sun Crusher with a brief movement of his head, he
said, "I will do what must be done to eradicate the Empire. While I
make the galaxy safe for everyone, you can stay here and practice
your simple Jedi tricks. But they are no more than children's games."

//That's the Dark Side speaking from him. He has to realize that!//
Compassion for the young man overrode Luke's fear. Looking at Kyp
Durron, he saw what he himself had been, what he *still* would be if
Leia hadn't... He did not want his student to lose his soul in the
same way. Taking a step towards Kyp, he pleaded with him to renounce
the Dark Side, reminding him that he himself had been able to do
so. "It *can* be done if you are strong enough and brave enough. Are
you?"

Again, Kyp had only scorn and mockery for him. "You've stunted the
training of your other Jedi candidates because of your own narrow-
mindedness," he accused Luke. "Perhaps I should just defeat you here
and now, and then *I* can take over their training."

Luke's hands were shaking as he reached for his lightsaber. The *snap-
hiss!* of its blade being activated seemed to cut his ears. His mouth
went dry.

A Jedi never attacked. Never. Luke felt a deep-seated dread in his
heart as he briefly recalled how on Bespin, he had also ignited his
lightsaber first, and had paid the bitter price.

But he also knew that he had to stop Kyp. Looking into the young
man's eyes, he saw coldest mercilessness, arrogant selfishness, and
blazing anger. Kyp Durron had become a Darksider. The mere thought of
a weapon like the Sun Crusher in the hands of a ruthless Darksider...

And yet... Luke gazed at the slender youth who stood there unarmed,
draped in the flowing black cloak that made him look bigger, more
imposing, but also smaller at the same time. Fragile, somehow, if not
for the blazing fire in his eyes. //I can't hurt him! How can I cut
down my own student?! ... But I have to!! He must be stopped! ... No, I
can't! ... I have to!//

The young Jedi Master raised his lightsaber, though still not knowing
what to do. The beads of cold sweat that had formed on his pale face
glistened with an eerie sheen of green and pastel orange, reflecting
the saber's blade and the early morning light. "Don't make me do
this," he said, holding Kyp's gaze, trying to reach the young man's
true soul behind those stormy eyes filled with Dark Side hatred. "We
have to send the Sun Crusher back. At one time you yourself insisted
that it should never be used."

Kyp stared back at him with hard, narrowed eyes. "I spoke out of
ignorance, just as you do."

Luke shivered, and not just from the cold morning air. For a moment,
the world blurred before his eyes. //Is this what Ben felt when he
had to fight with my father?// He tightened his grip on his
lightsaber. His pure blue eyes shimmered with the first signs of
emerging tears as he said in a low voice, "Don't make me fight you."

Almost casually, as if to say that Luke Skywalker wasn't even worthy
of his contempt, the Darksider that Kyp had become waved his hand in
a dismissive gesture. Luke felt an icy shockwave of Dark Side energy
rushing towards him. The hilt of his lightsaber turned cold in his
hands; so cold that ice crystals grew on it like feathery flowers; so
cold that it burned his skin, causing almost unbearable pain.

Within the lightsaber's blade, an ugly black shadow appeared and grew
rapidly, as if it the shimmering green beam was rotting away from the
inside out. The blade sputtered, then died.

Luke felt nauseous with fear. As he struggled to regain some measure
of calm, he felt a sudden brush of cold behind him, like the breath
of a ghost. He turned around and saw -

A black, hooded figure; dark as blindness, dark as nothingness. The
Dark Man who had murdered Gantoris; the Dark Man of his own
nightmares.

Kyp's voice came as if from a great distance. "At last, Master
Skywalker, you can meet my mentor - Exar Kun."

Luke dropped the lightsaber that had proven useless. It fell on the
stones with a hollow clank. In an instinctive reaction, he crouched
down in a defensive stance, drawing on the Force to shield himself.

And not a second to early. With the Sun Crusher looming behind him,
Kyp spread out his hands and released a barrage of Force lightning at
Luke. At first, the young Jedi Master, whose powers had grown greatly
since the Emperor had first tortured him with those bolts of evil
energy, was able to deflect it with his own upraised hands.

Exar Kun laughed. "So, you can ward it off! You can also *summon* it,
can't you? Why don't you strike back?"

The memory of Byss assaulted Luke like a hammer hitting him over the
head. Yes, he had learned the secrets of the Dark Side. He could
retaliate in kind. But he wouldn't.

"I will not... turn...to the Dark Side... ever...again!" Luke spat out. His
concentration broken, he was no longer able to fight off the next,
even more devastating wave of lightning that Kyp was hurling at him.

Exar Kun joined in the attack, sending dark shockwaves of pure evil
towards the young Jedi Master. The energy of age-old hatred; the
devouring, devastating power of the Dark Side. It tore through Luke's
body like an ice storm of frozen poison, sapping his life force while
creating untold agonies. The ancient Sith Lord laughed. "There is one
thing that you haven't understood, feeble Jedi. The Dark Side doesn't
seek to convert as much as it seeks to destroy!"

All around, black, illusory serpents born from the terrible powers of
the Sith rose from cracks in the flagstones to strike at Luke with
poisonous fangs. He screamed with pain, but a Dark Force storm
swallowed his cry. Like in his worst nightmares, he had no more voice.

Luke tried to defend himself, employing all the powers that Obi-Wan
and Yoda had taught him to use, but to no avail. He knew that the
Dark Side could only attack those that weren't calm and centered; but
he hadn't been in his center for many days. Too much had happened.
Gantoris' terrible death, the pain of Kyp's betrayal. Mara turning
him upside down by her bewildering presence, then even more so by her
leaving.

Mara... At that moment, Luke wished desperately for her to still be
there, to be at his side, to help him fight his terrible adversaries.
He could almost see her, flame-red hair sweeping through the air
while she swung her lightsaber with the deadly ease that he had both
feared and admired in her from the very beginning.

But no, she wasn't there; and he was alone, utterly alone amidst the
terrible darkness. He cried out one last time as he collapsed on the
flagstone roof like a rag doll that someone had carelessly thrown
there. His own scream was the last thing he heard before he heard and
saw no more.

*****

**On Coruscant, `Night Flower Club'**

The `Night Flower Club' was a stylish cocktail lounge located high up
in the noble part of Coruscant. It was definitely not one of those
seedy nightclubs where all the signs were printed in Huttese because
most of the patrons were spice smugglers and bounty hunters who used
that language as their lingua franca.

In fact, it was a typical Lando location, Mara decided as she inhaled
the first whiff of the air inside, which smelled of cleanliness and
expensive perfumes. And it had indeed been Lando who had invited her
there in order to discuss business plans for which he hoped to get
the assistance of the Smugglers' Alliance. Mara was happy to get
around to discussing business again. She realized that she had missed
it. As far as she was concerned, she was a trader, not a Jedi who
could be happy on some backwater moon; and now she felt back in her
element.

The lounge was fitted with luxurious, thick carpeting and expensive
silk wallpaper. On the walls, there were excellent holographs of the
lakes, hills and waterfalls of Naboo. Mara Jade, however, knew too
much about the history of that particular world to be able to get
sentimental about its beautiful landscape. Naboo had been the
homeworld of Emperor Palpatine, who had decided that it should
be "cleansed" of nonhumans. The Gungans had been murdered by the
thousands, or put into Imperial labor camps.

So instead of admiring the holographs, Mara preferred to gaze out of
the large transparisteel windows, which offered a breathtaking view
of the glittering cityscape, and the snowcapped Manarai mountains in
the distance.

The young master trader was clad in a tight black leather bodysuit
that made her look like a tough speeder bike chick. Her apparel
seemed quite out of place within the noble surroundings of the `Night
Flower Club', which was precisely why Mara had chosen it - it was
such a wonderful way to annoy Lando. And she had opted for straight
Corellian whiskey, while Lando was sipping some fancy fruity
concoction that was garnished with an outrageously bright-colored
tropical flower.

All of a sudden, Mara heard an anguished scream. Out of reflex or
force of habit, she tensely looked around to discern its origin; even
though she already knew that she had heard it inside her mind. Then
her surroundings vanished; and in their stead, she saw a black-
cloaked figure hurling evil Dark Side lightning at... Luke!

//NO!//, Mara screamed on the inside, clenching her hands into
fists. //Not *that* vision again!!! I've had enough of this!// She
had seen her vision of the Emperor's death over and over again. It
had tortured her by day, visited her nightmares. But it should have
ended, it *had* ended after Wayland! How could it come back to her?
Why did it have to come back?! Would there never be an end to her
torment?

Then she realized with the small part of her brain that was not too
paralyzed by shock that this time the vision was different: there
were not just one, but *two* dark, cloaked figures that were
torturing Luke with Force lightning, and with other Dark Side things
that she didn't even have names for.

//No! Stop!! Please!!//

Tears appeared in Mara's eyes and her lips curled back to reveal
tightly clenched teeth as she struggled to drive the awful vision out
of her head; but to no avail. She could not only see, but *feel*
Luke's torment, hear his scream as if it had come from her own
throat, see and feel him falter and fall onto cold stone, as if dead...

She didn't know she had felt her own falling until enough of her
consciousness had returned for her to notice that she was lying on
the ground. The darkness that had engulfed her turned into blurry
colors; then, as her eyes regained their focus, into the sight of a
face. Despite her still somewhat dazed state, she realized that the
face belonged to Lando, and that he was worried.

"Miss Jade? Miss Jade, are you alright?" he asked in an anxious tone.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Mara reassured him as soon as she again had enough
breath to speak; but she could see that his anxiety abated only
slightly, which was understandable enough, given the circumstances -
after all, fainting wasn't something one would expect of an ex-
Emperor's Hand.

As she sat up, Lando wrapped a supportive arm around her, which she
shoved aside, frowning. "If needed help, I would ask."

"Sure. - What happened?"

Mara shrugged. "It was just one of my crazy Force things."

"Well, I don't understand much about the Force..."

"Neither do I, at times." Mara pressed her lips together in a grim
expression, then sighed. "Listen, can we postpone our talk to some
other time? I'd like to go home now, if you don't mind."

"Shouldn't I bring you to a med center?"

"No need," Mara said sharply. "It's not like I've been coughing up
blood or something."

"Alright. I'll call us an air taxi then."

"No. You can call *yourself* an air taxi if you want one. I want to
walk home, it's not that far."

"You're in no condition to walk," Lando protested.

Under normal circumstances, Mara would have told Lando just what she
thought of his having the nerve to tell her about his assessment of
her condition. But right now, she didn't want to spend any time on
arguing. She wanted to get away as quickly as possible. After the
distressing vision she'd just had, she really needed to be alone. So
she merely scowled, then said "Alright, alright" and got up as
quickly as possible, since she didn't want Lando to help her up. Her
body protested with a surge of dizziness, which she managed to hide
by means of sheer willpower.

Then the redhead noticed that someone had opened the front of her
bodysuit. As she fastened it again, she glared blaster bolts at
Lando. "Have you done that?"

"Only to help you breathe," he defended himself.

"I've learned over sixty methods to kill someone without leaving any
traces," Mara said coolly. "Pray that I won't remember them once I've
found out where you had your hands while I was out cold."

After that, the former Baron Administrator of Bespin didn't dare to
protest when Mara told him that she wanted to ride home alone. When
she'd traveled past a few blocks of buildings, she disembarked from
the air taxi that Lando had called for her to walk the rest of her
way. She hoped that walking would help her think; and she had more
than enough to think about.

The vision she'd had had sent her mind reeling. No matter how hard
she tried, she couldn't make any sense of its meaning. Why had she
seen *two* dark men torturing Luke? And who could have been the
second one? Vader? But he had *defended* Luke back then, hadn't he?

She remembered how she'd first heard of Vader's - Anakin Skywalker's -
sacrifice when, hesitatingly though driven by an inner urge, she had
asked Luke, "You're the only one who knows. How did the Emperor die?"
It had been the beginning of her seeing through the Emperor's
deceptions, the beginning of her freedom of mind.

Why had that freedom been invaded on now? Why could that dark vision
of the past again enter her mind? Maybe the sight of the Manarai
mountains, at which she had gazed seven years ago right before the
very moment when the Emperor's death had ripped her former world
apart, had caused her to have a flashback. But then, why had it felt
so present, so real?

Was it a warning? Of what? What was she to do? //No,// she decided,
pushing her lower lip forward into an expression of stubbornness. //I
will not let this blasted vision make me do *anything*.//

Mara didn't trust visions. Not after what her last vision, the one
that had haunted her for five dark years, had nearly made her do. It
had nearly driven her to kill Luke. Gentle, good-hearted Luke, who
had become her ally, her friend, her teacher. She shuddered at the
thought. If she would have murdered Luke Skywalker (for murder it
would have been), she would have never become free. She would have
always remained the Emperor's Hand, even with no Emperor around; or
maybe she would have even sought to return to Palpatine when he had
returned in a new clone body. *She would have never been free.*

//No. Wherever this damn vision came from this time, I will not let
it rule my life. I will not allow it to remain a part of my life. I
will not even think about it ever again.// Mara's jewel-green eyes
flashed with a determination that even her mind was powerless
against. It obeyed her wishes, banishing all of the unwanted vision
to the deepest recesses of her subconscious. She had never seen it.
It had never happened.

*****

**On Coruscant, Solo Apartment**

Han was watching and listening in unabashed delight as Leia was
reading a story to the twins. He knew that his wife was enjoying the
precious moment to the fullest. Leia's political duties left her very
little time to be with her children. At the moment, those children
were unusually peaceful, which was definitely an additional plus - it
wasn't always easy to look after two very lively two-year-olds who
had already figured out how to open doors with the Force.

Suddenly, Leia gasped. The datapad that she had been reading from
nearly slipped from her hand while her other hand went to her head as
if she was feeling some strong pain in there. Startled, Jacen and
Jaina cried, "Mommy, Mommiiieeee!"

Han grabbed his wife by the shoulders. Clearly alarmed, he
asked, "What's the matter? Are you alright?"

Leia struggled to regain enough composure to be able to
speak. "Please bring the children to their room." Han complied with
her request, doing his best to calm the two toddlers, then asking
Threepio to keep an eye on them as he returned to his wife. He had
understood immediately: whatever it was that Leia had to tell him, it
would be so upsetting that she didn't want the children to hear it.

"Now what's the matter, dearest?"

Leia answered, "I felt a disturbance in the Force. It... it came from
Luke. It was as if he was in great pain; and now I can't feel him at
all." She paused for a moment, her face taking on a trance-like
expression as if she was psychically reaching out to some faraway
thing. Then she shook her head. With a trace of hopelessness creeping
into her voice, she repeated, "I can't feel him at all."

Han gazed at her, one of his hands resting on her shoulder. "Can you
normally feel him? When he's on Yavin and you're here, can you feel
him?"

"Not really. Not over such a distance."

"Then you don't know for sure that there's something wrong, right?"

"Not for sure, but..."

"Hey, listen, if you can't reach him through this Force stuff, why
don't you just try some less mystical communication?"

"Less mystical?"

"Yes. What do we have a comm unit for? Just give the Kid a call and
ask him if he's okay."

Leia wanted to follow the suggestion immediately, but Han held her
back. "Not now. On Yavin IV, it's now very early in the morning.
Better call them later."

As it turned out, Yavin called them first. Leia trembled as she saw
the holographic form of Cilghal. The Mon Cal looked profoundly
worried. "Minister Organa Solo?"

"Yes?"

"We have some bad news about your brother."

Leia felt as if someone had pulled away the floor under her. "Is
he...?" she asked in a small voice. Han took one of her hands in his
and gave it a squeeze. She hardly noticed it.

"He's in a coma. We don't know what caused it, and... we don't know
how to help him."

*****

To be continued...


***************
Here to learn (9/?)

By Devi

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

Overall rating is PG-13.

For disclaimer, please refer to chapter 1.

Much, much thanks to my beta Sienn :-)

____________________________________________________________________

**On Coruscant**

//First Qwi, and now this. // Wedge Antilles buried his face in his
hands, struggling to regain his composure. The news he'd just
received were more than devastating. Kyp Durron was on the loose in
the Sun Crusher. And Luke had somehow been hurt by someone, most
likely by Kyp, and was now in a coma.

*In a coma.* It sounded so terrible. Especially in connection with
someone as likeable as Luke. But then, lovely people weren't immune
to the cruelty of fate. Only a short time ago, the delicate Omwati
Qwi Xux had lost almost all of her memory due to a mysterious,
ruthless attack.

And now this thing with Luke. It struck Wedge like a thunderbolt to
his heart, even though he should have been prepared for something
like that. Hadn't he seen Luke go out on countless dangerous
missions? Each time before those, there had been a moment right
before boarding their X-Wings when brown eyes had locked on blue ones
in a silent exchange. They had never said things like, "I don't know
if we will come back alive from this, so before we go out, I want you
to know that you are my dear friend" or "I know that I might die out
there; but I'm even more afraid that *you* might die, because it will
hurt to lose you." But their eyes had spoken for them, and their
hearts had known.

No, he hadn't expected that Luke would never get hurt. But he had
always expected that he would die in battle, like Biggs and so many
others. Go out in a blaze of glory. Not that he would be lying in a
helpless state between life and death for no one could say how long.
*If* he would recover at all.

Wedge shook his head. He just couldn't believe that such a thing had
happened to Luke, of all people. When he thought of Luke Skywalker,
he still thought of the enthusiastic, bright-eyed youth who had
bragged that he "used to bulls-eye womp rats". Much had happened
since then, but Luke's eyes were still so lively that you expected
sparks to fly from them at any moment. He had always been so *alive*.

And now he was in a coma. It just didn't fit together. It couldn't
be. It shouldn't be. And yet, it was a fact. A terrible, undeniable
fact. Wedge felt his heart ache, felt his eyes burn with unshed tears
at the thought that maybe he would never again be able to look into
those bright eyes that were like clear skies mixed with twinkling
stars.

//This is the kind of thing you never get used to, // the General
thought. He had seen people get hurt before. He had seen people die.
Biggs, Porkins, Dack, Lujayne - the list went on and on. He was used
to seeing people get hurt. Only that he had never gotten used to it.
Every new casualty was still a casualty too much. And somehow, it
seemed like it always happened to the good people; the people that
everyone liked, the people who cared about everyone.

Like Lujayne Forge, who was still missed by all of Rogue Squadron.
Like Luke, lively, brave, selfless Luke, who had now been hurt no one
knew how badly. //And I haven't been there. //

It was always like that when something bad happened to Luke, the
Corellian glumly reflected. It always happened while he wasn't
around; and each time, he would be wishing futilely that he could
have been there, that he could have at least had a chance to try to
protect his friend.

Wedge remembered how it had been after the Battle of Hoth. He had
been worried sick when Luke hadn't shown up at the rendezvous. No,
not even worried. Mourning. He had thought that his friend was dead.
Then the next days and weeks, he'd had no time to think. With Luke
gone, he had been thrust into the position of Rogue Leader; and he
had done his best to keep those under his command safe while they had
been running from the Imperials, always running.

And then Luke had turned up again; alive, but with one hand less,
looking every bit as shattered as a person could possibly be. As if
he had looked into the gaping mouth of hell; which pretty much was
what had happened while he had been away. While Wedge hadn't been
around.

The worst always happened when he wasn't around; no matter how
sincerely he wished that he could be at Luke's side in his darkest
hours. That was part of being a friend, after all. Wedge was familiar
with the Rebel Alliance saying which stated that the quickest way to
get yourself killed was to become the wingman of Luke Skywalker. Like
with all famous sayings, there was a lot of truth to it. But in all
the time that Wedge had been Luke's trusted wingman, he had never
cared about that. He had been glad that he could be there, doing what
he could to keep Luke safe; and he would have readily given his own
life for his, knowing that Luke would have done the same for him.

But when Luke had really gotten hurt, he hadn't been there. Not then,
not now. And all that he, General Wedge Antilles, celebrated hero,
could do now was to hope and pray that Luke would recover.

He just *had to* recover! He had to return from this journey to the
brink of death; hadn't Luke always returned? Wasn't he a magic being
from a better world, with his bright, innocent eyes and gold dust-
sprinkled hair? Wouldn't he always prevail? Wouldn't he always
return?

Even after the battle over the first Death Star, when all others had
died, he and Luke had returned; had returned side by side. That was
the way it should be. Luke, wonderful, magic Luke and death, Luke and
coma - that just didn't fit together.

//Come back, Luke. Please. //

*****

Han Solo held his wife in a tight embrace. Sometimes, this was all he
could do for Leia - just hold her; like that time on Endor when she
had just found out that Darth Vader was her father. This time, she
had found out that her duties as Minister of State simply wouldn't
allow for her to fly to Yavin for the next whole week.

One entire week away from her brother while he was in this terrible
state - for Leia, every hour would feel like a millennium; and Han
knew that.

His beloved Princess had lost so much already. Everyone she used to
have in terms of family had died in the destruction of Alderaan. Then
her real father had died before she'd ever had a single chance to see
him as Anakin Skywalker, and not just as the monster that had
tortured her.

And now there was the prospect of losing Luke as well. //We don't
know how to help him. // Cilghal's words kept echoing in his mind.
What if Luke would never wake up again? Han felt a lump in his throat
as he remembered an age-old Corellian superstition about twins: that
if one of them died, the other's soul would want to follow him. Now
Luke was closer to death than he was to life; and it seemed to Han as
if Leia's soul was clinging only loosely to her body while every
fiber of her being was aching for her beloved brother.

//If only I knew how to help her, // Han thought. //If only I knew
how to help *him*. //

Leia lifted her head, turning her tear-stained face towards
him. "Han," she said in a choked-up voice, "you don't have to stay
here just because I can't go. You could take the `Falcon' and go to
Yavin now, and I can get myself some other ride and join you as soon
as I can."

For a moment, Han was too moved to answer. Looking at Leia as she
said those words, he saw the young Rebel leader he had so deeply
fallen in love with years ago, the one who had always put the needs
of others before her own.

"You could also take Jacen and Jaina with you. They love their uncle
so much," Leia continued, getting even more choked-up. She loved her
children, she didn't want to leave them out of her sight, especially
not now. But she hoped against hope that the presence of their
innocent love would be able to heal Luke where nothing else could.

She remembered that time on the `Eclipse' when the Emperor had forced
her to fight with Luke. Over their crossed lightsabers, she had
spoken to him of her children - and had finally reached him
underneath the Darkness. If whatever connected Luke with his nephews
and niece had been strong enough to bring him back from the Dark
Side, couldn't it also be strong enough to bring him back out of this
almost-death state he was in now?

Han swallowed. Stroking his wife's face with his fingers, he
said, "Leia, dearest... I would be lying if I were to say that I
wouldn't wish I could go to Yavin right away. Heck, I'm worried about
the Kid, too. But I know where I have to be at times like this, and
that's right here at the side of my wife."

Now it was Leia who wasn't able to speak for a moment. Instead, she
just rested her head against Han's chest while tears rolled down her
cheeks. Then she whispered, "I don't know how I deserve a good man
like you."

"So I'm not just a scruffy-looking nerf-herder?" Han said with a
loving smile while caressing Leia's hair with his hand.

"You're the most wonderful nerf-herder I've ever met, and I love you
with all my heart."

*****

**On Yavin IV**

Despite his despondency, Corran Horn managed to produce somewhat of a
smile to greet the man who'd just disembarked from the NR shuttle
with which he'd brought a medical team to Yavin IV. "Good to see you,
Colonel Celchu."

"Good to see *you*, Cor... Keiran," Tycho replied, remembering the
alias that Horn was using while undergoing Jedi training. Neither of
them said, "I just wish we would meet under better circumstances,"
since that would have been stating the obvious.

Glancing back at the men who were unloading some crates from the
shuttle, the Alderaanian called out, "Careful with these ones!"
Turning to Corran, he explained, "That's the special supplies you
asked me to bring."

Corran nodded. The "special supplies" were the nergon 14 charges he
wanted to have in case he would need to take down one of Exar Kun's
ancient temples in order to stop the Sith Lord.

A serious expression on his face, Tycho asked, "Do you think I can
come inside and see Luke?"

"I don't see why not," Corran replied. "But I don't think you're
going to like what you'll see."

"I want to see him, though."

Corran nodded in instant understanding. Like Tycho and himself, Luke
was a warrior. The thought of him lying around helplessly seemed so
inconceivable, so absurd, that Tycho had to see it to believe it.

They walked into the Grand Audience Chamber. Tycho winced as he saw
Luke lying on a bier at the end of the room. Like Corran had
predicted, he wasn't comfortable with the sight. It far too much
reminded him of a dead body that had been prepared for the funeral.

Luke lay motionless, with his hands folded across his chest. He was
draped in his Jedi robe, and his hair had been combed.

Tycho glanced briefly at Corran, then back at Luke's face which in a
strange way looked even more handsome than before in its smooth
stillness, almost angelic; even despite the sickly gray color of his
skin that reminded one of some dead material.

Like Corran, Tycho Celchu had once been imprisoned on the `Lusankya'.
He knew about everything about pain and hellish suffering that there
was to know. What he saw now was not a picture of pain; but one of
perfect, final calm. It was a cold, stark, all-too-silent calm,
however; and it made the battle-hardened Alderaanian shudder on the
inside.

//He looks like he's only sleeping, but he looks *too much* like
that, // Tycho thought. Somehow, the sight of Luke in all his
fragile, silent beauty was more terrible than any picture of horror
he had ever encountered. It was like his memories of Alderaan, all
those images of its wondrous beauty that surfaced in his mind again
and again to torture him; all that delicate beauty and harmony that
screamed at him "GONE FOREVER".

Was Luke now gone, too?

"You've said he's still alive...?" he whispered to Corran in a voice
that betrayed his uneasiness.

The pain that flared up in the Corellian's eyes cut him through and
through. "To be honest, we can't tell," Corran said.

Tycho's eyes narrowed to blue splinters. "What do you mean, `we can't
tell'?"

"His heart is still beating - faintly, but it is; and he's breathing;
but there hasn't been any other sign of life in him since we've found
him. And the way he feels in the Force to all of us here... Or rather,
the way we *don't* feel him. It's not even like he's unconscious; but
like he's... dead," Corran winced at the word, "or not there at all."

Tycho nodded. He wasn't Force sensitive himself; but Corran's words
pretty much summed up the feeling he had when he looked at Luke: that
Luke's soul had fallen into a much deeper ocean of blackness than at
any time he had seen him before, even at that time when they had
brought him back into Echo base as-good-as frozen to death. He had
been deeply unconscious then; but it hadn't been like it was now.

Not like this terrible, frozen stillness that was as if Luke was but
a painted picture, flawless but devoid of all life; or as if someone
had flicked a switch on a holoprojector to halt it at a still image.
As much as he didn't want to think about it, he wondered what it was
like for Luke to live in this black, frozen stillness; trapped in
this paralyzed, helpless body. How this felt like for him. Whether he
felt anything at all.

"Luke?" he said to break the silence he could no longer bear. His
voice was wavering slightly. "I don't know if you can hear us now,
but I just want to say that we all wish you that you'll get well
soon. It would be too bad without you. Heck, just think of all the
stuff we've been through together. Hoth, Endor, Bakura. We've come so
far, you can't give up now! Whoever did this to you, you can't let
him beat you." The Alderaanian fell silent for a long moment.

Then he let out a long sigh. "Luke, there's one thing I wanted to
ask... If you don't wake up again, can I have your X-Wing?" Tycho's
tone had changed to that of someone who tries to crack a joke in a
situation that would be far too depressing otherwise. He heard a
whistle behind him. "...and your astromech," he added. Artoo whistled
again. It sounded frightened.

"Now *that* should get him to recover," Tycho explained as Corran
shot him a glance, somewhat taken aback by his mock-tasteless
words. "The Luke that *I* know wouldn't want to leave Artoo in
someone else's hands."

"No," Corran agreed. "He's always cared a lot about his droid."

"Yeah." Tycho let out a sigh. The shadow that fell over his face as
he lowered his head seemed like an embodiment of his sadness. Tiny
drops of moisture glittered in the corners of his eyes. "He's cared
about everyone. Even droids."

"No, Colonel! Let's not even start this!" Corran said in a
surprisingly sharp tone.

"Let's not start what?"

"To stand around, hang our heads and talk about what a great guy Luke
was. You might as well put him in a casket and drape a shroud over
him! This is *not* his funeral, at least not yet; so let's not start
to feel and talk as if it was!"

"I'm sorry, Keiran."

"You don't have to be. I'm feeling every bit as bad as you do. Maybe
worse. But if I'd give in to those feelings..." Corran left the
sentence unfinished. What he intended to say was clear enough as it
was: they couldn't afford self-pity.

"I know what you mean. Giving up's not for Rogues, eh?"

"Or for Jedi."

"Or for Jedi."

Dr. Terys Neemye, the head of the medical team, approached them from
behind with a 2-1B droid in tow. "Excuse me, gentlemen, could you
leave us alone with Master Skywalker now? We have to do some tests
with him," she asked.

"Sure, Dr. Neemye. No problem," Tycho said with a polite smile before
he retreated along with Corran.

As they left the Grand Audience Chamber, the Corellian threw a glance
back at Neemye, a tall woman with clear blue eyes and straight,
golden brown hair that she had fastened with a clasp at the back of
her head. She had a light complexion with rosy cheeks and wore a
spotlessly white lab coat. She looked clean, professional and
friendly. Nevertheless, out of some instinctive protectiveness
towards his hurt Jedi Master friend, Corran felt uneasy about leaving
Luke alone with *anyone*, even her.

"Don't worry. She's one of the best in her field," Tycho whispered to
him while gently pulling him by his sleeve. "Let's go."

*****

Dr. Neemye leaned over the table around which everyone had assembled
to hear what she and the other doctors and medidroids had found out
about Luke's condition. She gazed straight at those she addressed;
but the Jedi trainees could sense through the Force that she was
feeling confused and ill at ease. "We've checked Master Skywalker
inside and out. Organically, there's nothing wrong with him," she
started.

//I hate the sound of that, // Corran thought.

"So what *is* wrong?" Kirana Ti asked. Having been raised among the
warlike witches of Dathomir, she was used to being straightforward.

Neemye sighed. Her fingers fumbled with the datapad she was holding
as she replied, "I wish we knew that. There is no illness, no
detectable physical damage. There's no reason why he shouldn't have
woken up by now."

"But he hasn't," remarked Kam, whose blocky features had turned into
a mask of bitter grief.

"No," Dr. Neemye admitted with another sigh. As she continued
speaking, the natural warmth of her gaze gave her somewhat of a
maternal look; but it was the look of a worried, exhausted mother.
Her voice, though matter-of-factly, was warm as well. "Normally,
patients who are in that deep a coma aren't able to breathe without
the help of a respirator. But he is; which makes his condition all
the more mystifying. I've never seen anything like that in my entire
career. The closest thing it could be compared to would be a state of
deep hibernation; but even someone who's frozen in carbonite will
wake up promptly when he's thawed out. But in the case of your Jedi
Master, he doesn't respond to any kind of stimulus; even though
there's no doubt that he's alive, and in perfect health according to
every method of diagnosis that's available to us."

She shook her head. The emotions that the Jedi trainees could sense
from her were a mixture of compassion, frustration, and scientific
curiosity. Terys desperately wished she could solve the mystery she
was faced with; because it affected her pride in her abilities; but
most of all because she genuinely cared about Luke.

Her first thought upon seeing him had been that Skywalker looked
extraordinarily handsome even in his unconscious state. But it wasn't
just physical beauty. He had that aura of precious, vulnerable
innocence that was found in sleeping children, and in newly hatched
soft-feathered songbirds. He was the sort of thing that you wanted to
protect, that you didn't want to see destroyed. Seeing him hurt,
maybe suffering, evoked a terrible feeling in her; akin to the
feeling she had every time she couldn't safe the life of a child.

Of course, from a scientific point of view, there was no reason to
believe that Skywalker was suffering; or feeling anything at all, for
that matter. But then, there was no logical, scientific explanation
for his state as such. And that made Dr. Neemye most uncomfortable.

Not being able to understand and explain the young Jedi Master's
condition by means of objective data meant that there was room for
all sorts of unpleasant, scary speculations. That maybe, Luke
Skywalker was - trapped. Locked away in an inescapable, bleak
darkness. That maybe his spirit was awake; but unable to act, unable
to reach them, unable to communicate through this inert, helpless
body.

But then, was there such a thing as a spirit, a soul? Her training
hadn't taught her to believe there was; but the awe she felt towards
life forbade her to say there wasn't, even though there were times
when it was easier to believe that life was just a sum of chemical
reactions, times such as now.

If all that Luke Skywalker was made of was a body of flesh, blood,
skin and bones, then there was no suffering for him, no pain. His
body felt nothing, a measurable nothing, hadn't responded to any of
the probes they'd subjected it to. But what if there was a spirit, a
living essence that existed within the confines of the body, and yet
beyond it? What if that essence was conscious, aware, sentient?
Capable of feeling pain, fear, and despair? What would it feel, bound
to a body that might never wake up again? Bound maybe for years, for
decades, for the rest of Skywalker's natural lifespan?

The questions were painful. Having no answers for them was more
painful still. Terys unconsciously clenched her right hand in a fist
as she said, "I don't know how that can be. There must be *something*
we've overlooked. Ambassador Cilghal? When you examined him right
after he was found, did you find anything odd?"

"No more than you did. When we found him on the rooftop, it looked
like he had just fought something, and lost. But there were no
physical injuries as far as I could tell."

"Are you sure?" Terys asked while inwardly scolding herself for doing
so. //Now I'm looking for straws to grasp. //

"I can't be fully sure. We didn't have much diagnostic equipment
here, only a simple scanner. I have some talent as a healer - at
least that's what Master Skywalker told me - but I haven't had much
training; and I don't understand much about human physiology. Here's
the notes I've written -" she handed a datapad to Dr. Neemye, "The
first part describes his state right after we've found him, the
second one is his condition after I've tried what I know." The Mon
Cal hung her head in an expression of sadness and defeat as she
remembered how she had held Luke in her arms, enveloping him in the
healing light of the Force, and achieving - nothing. "You will see
that there is practically no difference between before and after,
except for these points," she pointed it out to Neemye, "and that
could just be a misreading on my part."

Terys Neemye took a closer look at the data. "Must be. This kind of
damage can only be caused by exposure to very intense electromagnetic
energy. I can't see how it could have happened; and the second set of
data coincides with our results, so basically, we're back at where we
were before." She now looked even more exhausted. "Which is, we have
no explanation."

"And what if there's just no *physical* explanation?" Corran
interjected.

Neemye looked at him. "What do you mean?"

The Corellian went into a brief explanation of how Luke's condition
presented itself to a Force sensitive, and the conclusions he had
drawn from that.

Dr. Neemye frowned. "So what you want to say is that Master
Skywalker's body is here, but his soul is somewhere else?"

"Basically, yes. I know that's hard to believe; but as Jedi, we
believe that we are luminous beings, not creatures of crude matter."

"I don't mean to challenge your religion; and I don't exclude the
possibility that there is such a thing as an immortal soul," //Even
though sometimes it's so much more comfortable to believe that
there's only chemistry and physics. // "but why should his soul hide
from us?"

Corran pressed his lips into thin line before he answered, "Not from
us. But perhaps from someone else. Or that someone is keeping his
soul captive."

"We have no way of knowing that," Cilghal protested. She didn't want
to believe in what Corran was implying before she definitely had to.
It was just too discomforting a thought.

Terys Neemye felt even more uncomfortable with it. She frowned at
Corran. "Wait a moment - you want to suggest that someone has hurt
Master Skywalker through *witchcraft*?"

"Not witchcraft," Corran replied. "The Force. Or more precisely, the
Dark Side of the Force."

Neemye's frown deepened. "Could someone explain to me what you're
talking about?"

Kam gave her a brief discourse about the nature of the Force, and the
Dark Side. Dr. Neemye listened attentively; but what she heard didn't
convince her. She didn't want to be convinced. After all, she was a
rational adult, not a child who still believed that the Bogeyman was
real.

"No, no, no," she said, "Your forgetting one of the most important
rules of any scientific research: If there's a more likely and a less
likely explanation for something, chances are that the more likely
one is closest to the truth. That Skywalker has been hurt by an evil
spirit wielding some mystic energy is not a very likely explanation.
So we have to face the more likely one: that we simply aren't able to
detect the reason for his condition. Unfortunately, that's not an
uncommon thing. If you would work in my profession, you would know
how often doctors have to send someone home because they can't find
out what's wrong with him."

//Next thing she's gonna say that it's psychosomatic, // Corran
thought cynically.

"So what are you going to do?" Tionne asked.

Terys Neemye sighed once again, looking genuinely grief-stricken. "I?
I'll go back to Coruscant. See, I have other patients to look after,
other commitments. I'm sorry I can't do more for your Jedi Master;
but like I said, I have no idea how to treat his condition. I'm going
to leave you two of our droids here. Together with Ambassador
Cilghal, they should be able to give adequate medical care to Master
Skywalker if the need arises. Apart from that, we can only hope that
he'll recover by himself. Often, the human body knows how to heal
itself when we do not."

Even while already in the shuttle, on the way back to Coruscant,
Neemye still thought of the handsome young Jedi Master in his deep
coma, helplessly adrift in the misty shadow land between life and
death.

*****

In the shadows, there was a different shadow; one endowed with
sentience, and a will. From the place where it was, it could clearly
feel the energies that surrounded it. The death shriek of a
woolamander that was being captured by a predator in the forest. The
despair of the Jedi trainees that permeated the Great Temple. And,
far away, the brilliant death cry of suns in the Cauldron Nebula.

All this was energy, and it - he - had learned how to drink it.
Learned how to feed off it. And beyond it, he felt a greater current
of energy that surrounded him. It was a swirling flow of madness; it
was the sum and essence of all hatred and despair. And it was power;
sheer, raw power for power's sake. It was the current of the Dark
Side, and he was now so close to it that he could feel it in its
purest, primeval essence. He knew that he would be swallowed by it,
become one with it, when he died.

But he hadn't truly died yet. Chained to the temples that had once
been built to give witness of his glory, his spirit had spent four
endless millennia in the shadows. It could have just as well been
four million, for where he was, there was no way to measure time.
There was only the darkness. But he had learned to feed off darkness
long ago. He, Exar Kun, the greatest Sith of long-forgotten days, was
not a feeble creature. And slowly, over centuries, he had built his
strength again.

Strength that was without meaning when there was no one to dominate.
He had been alone for endless centuries, trapped in the void with
only the Darkness for his companion. He had waited. And waited. Alone
in the void, no one to rule over, no diversion, none of the pleasures
that the living enjoyed. Only the void, only bleak darkness, only
waiting. And after he had waited out the endlessness, destiny had
finally tossed him some toys for his pleasure.

That had been the first real diversion he'd had in four millennia;
when they had arrived. He had known what they were. *Jedi. * The
pathetic servants of the feeble Light Side. Heirs to those who had
once ganged up on him, who had forced him into this miserable
existence.

At first, he had concentrated on their leader. Kun had slipped into
his mind in his dreams, had read his consciousness until he knew many
things about the Jedi Master. His name was Luke
Skywalker. "Skywalker" - Kun knew that name. Among the Jedi that had
fought him had been a Gavriel Skywalker, a tall man with bright blue
eyes; perhaps this one was his distant descendant. "Luke" - an
ancient name that meant "Child of Light", a name that was an insult
in itself.

He must have been named by his mother; for his father, Darth Vader,
had been a mighty Sith Lord who had killed many Jedi. Skywalker had
been born with his father's Force strength, destined for greatness.
However, deluded by a Jedi named Obi-Wan Kenobi, he had chosen the
weaker, less promising side of the Force; and because of him, his
father had returned to the Light Side and murdered his own Master.

Vader had not been the first Sith to kill his Master. But all others
who had done so had done it to gain power for themselves. To
sacrifice one's own life in order to kill one's Master for the sake
of a feeble *Jedi*, son or not, was the height of foolishness.

So that's what Skywalker was, the son of a foolish traitor.
Nevertheless, when his father's Master had returned from apparent
death thanks to some precautions he had been wise enough to take, he
had offered Skywalker the place at his side that Lord Vader had once
held. The Jedi had accepted, and had finally tasted the greatness
that the Dark Side had to offer.

He had become a glorious Dark Lord, powerful and feared; and would
have become more glorious still if history hadn't repeated itself.
Like his father before him, Skywalker had been lured back to the
Light by one of his own family. It was always the same story, Kun
thought with disgust. Family, friends - they only cheated you, only
made you weak.

To reject the gifts of the Dark Side when one had never tasted them
was cowardice; but to reject the Dark Way after one had lived it was
both foolishness and unforgivable treason. Luke Skywalker was the son
of a foolish traitor, and a foolish traitor himself. He was lower
than spit. Even his name was an insult. *He* was an insult.

Nevertheless, Kun had appeared to him, disguised as his father, and
had tried to convince him to accept the ways of the Sith. After all,
Skywalker had been a Dark Lord once; and could still be a glorious
Darksider and leader of Darksiders. Exar Kun had been convinced that
it would be for the best if he would form an alliance with him, like
the one he had once formed with Ulic Qel-Droma. *If* Skywalker would
accept the offer. But then, since when did fools know what was good
for them?

That didn't matter, though. Kun had found himself other toys to play
with. The first one, Gantoris, had been a bit of a disappointment.
He'd had to discard him. Kyp Durron, however - he made for a lovely
little apprentice. So strong already. So angry. And this little Sun
Crusher thing he had found was such a lovely toy in itself.

A weapon that could explode stars - for Exar Kun, it brought back
fondest memories. The Sith used to have such weapons millennia ago,
long before ordinary people had been able to built them. Kun himself
had demanded that his followers Crado and Aleema used one of those
weapons.

The results had been wonderful. Apart from the destruction caused,
Crado and Aleema had died; which had been a well-deserved punishment
not only for them, but also for Crado's lover Sylvar, who had once
scratched Kun's face with her claws. Not that the resulting scars had
disfigured him - they had only added to the menacing appearance he
was so proud of. But it had been an insult, and Exar Kun never
forgave insults.

Sylvar had paid for her offense. Since the Cathar only chose a mate
once, Crado's death had meant that she'd had to remain alone for the
rest of her life, without a companion, without children. Sweet
revenge. And Skywalker would pay, too. For his insolence. For
rejecting the Dark Side. For bringing about the end of the Sith. Or
*almost* the end, for he, Exar Kun, still lived, even if only as a
shadow.

But Skywalker was now a mere shadow himself, and a weaker one. Right
now, his spirit lay enfolded in numb darkness, without hearing,
without seeing; without suffering - yet. Not being awake, he didn't
make for much of an interesting pet; but Kun would not try to wake
him prematurely. His unconsciousness meant defenselessness, and that
gave Exar Kun the time to trap his soul.

He wouldn't be able to trap it as permanently as he had done with the
souls of the Massassi children that he had enclosed in the golden
globe in the Palace of the Woolamander. That had been among the most
marvelous of his handiworks. He was no longer able to perform such
feats, at least not now. In his present form, it took great exertion
for him to influence the world of the living; so bringing Kyp under
his control and helping him to retrieve the Sun Crusher had sapped
his strength to a great degree, as had the act of defeating the Jedi
Master.

He would need time to recover; but with Luke Skywalker in this
senseless, helpless state, he had the time. And he still had enough
strength to effectively trap the Jedi's soul away from his body,
which, though breathing, was merely an empty shell now. And once he
had destroyed his body, Skywalker would be trapped for good, with no
way back, no alternative.

In other words, he would find himself in the same situation that he,
Kun, was forced to be in due to the actions of Jedi. It was only just
that at least one of the accursed Jedi would have to suffer the same.
And suffer he would, once he was awake. During the last four thousand
years, Exar Kun had had ample time to think about what he wanted to
seek retribution for; and now, with his own little Jedi pet to play
with - imagine the endless fun!

*****

To be continued...

***********************
Here to learn (10.1/?)

by Devi

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

Overall rating is PG-13.

For disclaimer, please refer to chapter 1.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


**On Coruscant**

Han Solo and Chewbacca exchanged a goodbye hug. Han was about to
board the 'Millennium Falcon' with Leia and the twins. They were
going to go to the place where their minds already were: on Yavin IV,
with Luke.

Han found it soothing to rest his head against Chewbacca's soft fur.
Chewie was his oldest friend. Once, he had been the only person in
the galaxy that Han had truly cared about. Then, without him having
planned for it, some more people had gotten a special place in his
life, and his heart: In Leia, he had found a truly wonderful wife who
stuck with him through thick and thin; and the children she had given
him were the sunshine of his life. And Luke - Luke had been like a
brother to him long before he had become his brother-in-law.

Having a family, people he cared about, meant a richer life; but it
also meant many heartaches, big and small, whenever someone he loved
was hurt or in danger. Like Luke had gotten hurt now. Really badly.

"Take good care of yourself while we're away, yes?" Han said to
Chewie. Then, after a glance in the direction of Leia and a sigh, he
said, "I have a bad feeling about this. It really seems like we can't
leave Luke out of our sight without him getting himself into some
kind of trouble, huh?"

Chewie grunted in the affirmative.

"Seems like every time I think he's old enough to take care of
himself now, I'm proven wrong, eh?" Han added.

"That's nothing to do with age," Leia chimed in. "You're older than
I, and I had to rescue you from Jabba's."

"Sure, how could I ever forget that event," Han said. "Just too bad
that I was blind after you got me out of the carbon freeze. I would
have loved to get a glimpse of you in that gold bikini."

"Han!" Leia admonished.

"And I bet Mara Jade didn't look too bad in her dancing costume,
either," Han continued to tease. He liked the fact that even despite
their more than despondent mood, he and Leia were still able to share
the witty banter he loved to exchange with his beloved wife.

"Han!" Leia exclaimed again, this time a tone sharper. Boy, was she
cute when she was angry!

"Hey, hey, I didn't say I wanted to look at her, did I?" the former
smuggler defended himself, throwing up his hands.

"And you shouldn't," Leia said in the stern, tough-ass Rebel Princess
tone he *knew* she knew he loved, making it hard for him to suppress
a smile. //That's my girl! // "Apart from the fact that you're
married to *me*, I also think Luke's got an interest in her. Would be
bad taste to fantasize about your brother-in-law's love interest
while he's in a coma, don't you think?"

"Sure. But Luke and her, are you sure? Maybe I missed something, but
didn't she want to kill him?"

"*I* wanted to kill *you* a lot of the time when we first met."

"True. - You know, if I wouldn't have known about this wanting to
kill him obsession of hers, I would have thought Luke and Mara had
quite some chemistry going on right from the beginning." Han shook
his head in an "ain't it weird" gesture. "But right now Lando is
after her."

"Lando?"

"Well, he was when I last saw him. I haven't seen him or her since we
arrived on Coruscant."

Leia gave him a thoughtful gaze from her deep brown eyes, but no
reply. So, Lando was interested in Mara Jade. Going by what she knew
about Mara, she would probably give him a hard time. Mara Jade had
been the Emperor's Hand - a predator -, and a predator doesn't like
being made prey in any way.

She didn't really know what to think of the whole thing, though. The
idea that Lando was chasing after the woman that her brother - her
dear brother, who was still in a coma - seemingly felt drawn to gave
her an uncomfortable feeling.

But she had no right to interfere, especially not without knowing
whether Luke really had an interest in Mara. And she had no proof for
that, just feelings and intuition. Because of the deep bond she
shared with her twin brother, *something* had told her that there was
also a bond between him and Mara. Subtle, and inexplicable; but, so
it seemed, running very deep. There was no reason other than the
unfathomable will of the Force why Luke should have such a connection
with the woman who had wanted to be his assassin; but something told
her that it was there, that Luke and Mara - shared a destiny. Yes.

But she didn't know whether that would be for the good. Yes, somehow,
on a deep, subtle level, something had always told her that she could
trust Mara Jade. Even during their first meeting, when Mara had told
her straight to the face that she wanted to kill her brother; had
told her that even though she wouldn't have had to tell her.

It was due to that trust and, after Wayland, due to gratitude that
Leia had used her influence within the framework of the New Republic
to protect Mara from those who would have rather seen the former
Imperial elite agent being put on trial for war crimes. She had done
that behind the scenes though, without Mara's knowledge, for she knew
that the proud redhead wouldn't have wanted such help.

Nevertheless, Leia didn't know whether Mara, that headstrong being,
would be any good for Luke. *If* he wanted her. If she would want
him. And right now, thinking about that was idle speculation anyhow.
At the moment, the relevant question was if and when Luke would ever
wake up again. Everything else could and would be sorted out after
that, at the right time. Destiny had its own time, this much Leia
knew, just like she knew that she could trust the Force. Always.

"Well, I guess Lando's old enough to make his own choices," she
finally said for lack of knowing anything better to say.

"Even if his choice is a skilled assassin who used to be on
Palpatine's payroll?" Han teased.

"Even if. Or do you think you could change his mind?"

"No. He's a gambler. Have you ever seen a gambler who listened to
reason?" Han said with a grin and a mock-helpless shrug.

Leia couldn't suppress a smile. "No." Then she turned serious
again. "Don't tell Lando about what we just discussed - or anyone,
for that matter. I don't think Luke would want us to meddle in his
private affairs, and neither would Mara." //*Especially* not Mara, //
she added to herself.

Han agreed with her, then turned to Chewie again. "Good luck to you,
buddy," he told the Wookiee, who gave him a glance that was
affectionate and a bit regretful.

Han understood the regret part when Chewie told him in a mournful
bellow, <I really wish I could go with you.>

"We've already talked about that," Han said. "What you have to do is
more important."

<Yes. I have a duty towards my people,> Chewbacca agreed. The reason
why he was not coming with Han this time was important indeed - he
wanted to go with the Special Forces team that was going to be send
out by the New Republic to occupy Maw Installation and help them free
the Wookiee prisoners that were being held there for slave labor.

"So don't worry about it. We'll all see each other again soon
enough." The moment he had said that, Han became aware of how his
words had included the unspoken hope that the "we all" would include
a living, healthy Luke. Right now, wishing and hoping was all he
could do in this regard, but oh, how strongly he wished! Looking into
Chewie's eyes drove a sharp spike into his heart - why had he never
realized before how much the Wookiee's gentle, wisdom-filled blue
eyes reminded him of Luke? Dear, too-young-to-die Luke, whom he
couldn't bear to lose. His eyes were burning with unshed tears as he
gave Chewie a second hug. Then Leia and the twins said their own
goodbyes to the Wookiee, and the small group boarded the 'Falcon'.

The two adults walked up the ramp slowly, weighed down by their heavy
hearts. Their children were moving in a more lively - and noisy -
manner. They could pick up some of their parents' despondent thoughts
and emotions through the Force, but not enough to dampen their
spirits. It was painful for Leia to see the enthusiasm of Jacen and
Jaina, who were happily looking forward to visiting their Uncle
Luke. //We haven't told them yet, // she thought. //How will they
feel when they actually see Luke, see him in the state he's now
in? // Maybe she should tell her children *something*, she mused.
Prepare them for the experience. But she just couldn't find the right
words.

Even after the 'Falcon' had lifted off, Chewie remained standing on
the spot for a while. Like Han and Leia, he felt weighed down by
sorrow. Yes, what he was going to do was important; but still, a part
of him wished that he could have come with Han to see Luke, who was
his friend, too. No, not just a friend, a part of his family.

Chewbacca was over 200 years old - young for a Wookiee, but old
enough to have seen much. But some things still affected him deeply.
Such as what had now happened to Luke, his dear human friend. After
his experience of Imperial slavery, Chewie hadn't trusted humans
except for Han. But Luke - Luke he had instantly liked, right when he
had met him as a starry-eyed, fresh-from-the-moisture-farm boy in the
Mos Eisley bar. Something in his deep Wookiee heart had told him that
there was more to Luke that met the eye, that the boy was - something
very special. A good person. Someone to be trusted.

That sentiment had only grown when he had gotten to know Luke as the
good, caring, selfless man he was; and along with it he had, from
very early on, developed a sentiment of wanting to protect the
innocent young farm boy that hadn't fully abated even when he had
found out how strong and resourceful Luke was, that he was usually
more than able to protect himself.

Usually, but not always. And not now. Chewbacca could only hope that
Han and Leia, that *someone* would find a way to help Luke, that very
good, very special man. It would be a sad loss if the galaxy would
have to do without him. //If he had been born with a fur and claws,
he would have made a really good Wookiee. //

*****

**On Yavin IV**

The morning cold was still clinging to the jungle moon when
the 'Millenium Falcon' arrived, and heavy mists were shrouding the
treetops. Corran, who was standing in front of the Great Temple, felt
relieved as he saw the Solos' ship arrive, and could sense the same
feeling of relief in his fellow Jedi students. At last, there was
something to detract them from the feeling of despair that had been
laying itself upon them since they had found Luke's almost-dead body,
weighing heavier and heavier with each slowly passing hour, no matter
how much they fought not to give in to it.

This morning had been especially trying for Corran Horn. Upon waking
from an uneasy sleep, he had gotten up and walked outside. Gazing
into the mists, he had wondered where Luke was now, whether the state
that his friend and Jedi Master was now in was like this, alone in
the cold mists; and against his will, he had remembered the talk he'd
had with Tycho Celchu before Tycho had left Yavin IV again.

"You know, when I was seeing Luke like he is now..." Tycho had said
haltingly, in the manner of someone who is about to talk about
something that he doesn't feel comfortable speaking about, "I had to
think of how I was when they had me on the 'Lusankya' and I was
just... sleeping."

Corran had nodded slowly, knowing what the other was referring to.
During his captivity, Tycho had slipped into a catatonic state.
Although this had saved him from the worse alternative - becoming
Isard's brainwashed plaything - Corran shivered on the inside each
time he wondered how it had been like for Tycho, being in this state
of dead-while-living.

"I still don't know where I was during that time," Tycho had
continued. "All I have is a basic idea of where my body was, and even
that is mostly because others told me later on. As for where *I*
was..." The Alderaanian had shaken his head, and his eyes had taken
on a pained look. "It's just one big blank in my memory. All I do
remember is my mind walking away into this thick, gray mist, away
into this nothingness, away into the I-don't-know-what-it-was. I only
knew that it was a place where Iceheart couldn't reach me. I hid in
that place; and then I wandered deeper and deeper into the mist,
until I didn't know whether I could find the way back anymore. But
then, I didn't want to go back. I was too afraid of *her*."

Corran had winced before he had nodded again. *Afraid of 'her'.* He
knew only too well what Tycho was talking about. Even though two
years had passed since Isard had died, shot by Iella Wessiri, his own
nightmarish memories of what he had suffered at the hands of the
woman with the mismatched eyes of molten lava and poisonous ice still
made him shudder at times.

And this morning, as he had stared into the mists, he had winced
again as he had wondered whether it was the same with Luke - whether
his soul was now hiding somewhere out there in the nowhere because he
had been hurt by Exar Kun until he was unbearably terrified. If Tycho
had been terrified enough to make his mind hide away so deeply that
he could have gotten lost forever... //And Isard, for all her
evilness, wasn't a Dark Lord of the Sith. // Corran hadn't wanted to
dwell on those painful thoughts, so he was more than grateful when
the Solos provided an effective distraction by their arrival.