Prologue

The vibrant azure blue and pale browns and greens of the planet arced over the lower right corner of the pilot's cockpit window, creating a dichotomy between life and death. One side would happily support his existence; the other would snuff it out just as happily.

The view was spectacular, but to the pilot of the TIE Fighter, it was a view he could stand not seeing ever again. He'd been up in space for the past six hours with no break, and the energy levels in his ship were running dangerously low. His replacement for patrol duty was supposed to come any minute now, but these last few seconds waiting to be relieved felt more like days to him. He started to stretch for the tenth time in the past hour when an alarm buzzed, and suddenly an image of a shuttle appeared on his display, closing in on him fast.

*Must have come out of Hyperspace*, he thought as he tried to focus bleary eyes on the readings. He opened a channel to the shuttle.

"Unknown shuttle," he broadcast to the newcomer, "You have entered Imperial territory. State your purpose, destination and cargo."

No response. He waited until he could finally see the ship in the distance before repeating himself. "Unknown shuttle, I repeat--" Suddenly static broke in, and he heard a man's voice over the noise, sounding panicked and distressed.

"--am having troubl---ship, I think---ngines are failing--must land now, or else--" The communication broke off into static, then silence. Was this a trick? He knew there was something he was supposed to do, but he hadn't run into this situation outside of basic training.

"Unknown shuttle, respond please!" Again, he was greeted with silence. The ship appeared to be in trouble, but his ship had long ago lost the ability to check for power fluctuations or internal damage in other craft. However, the shuttle appeared to be fine, as far as he could tell from the outside.

An alarm beeped, and he focused on the display screen again, thinking, *What now?* It was his replacement, coming up from the planet below. "What's going on?" the older man asked, irritated.

"You tell me! The pilot said something about his engines failing before his comm system cut out--"

"Do you have his ID code?"

"Not yet. He can't, or won't, respond to my hails." The shuttle was almost on top of them now. "What should we do?" The younger man asked desperately.

"The ship has no weapons, and...no cargo," he added as the shuttle zipped by, unheeded, his scan of the ship complete. It careened wildly, still barely in control. "Let him pass. If he crashes, it's not our loss."

The first pilot mulled over that. "What if it was a ruse?"

He could hear the older man's smile in his voice, "If it was, he won't get far."

Chapter 1

Rain poured off the slanted porch roof and down into a quickly forming puddle at Mara Jade's feet. The breeze blowing past was cool but humid, lazily ruffling her reddish golden hair past her shoulders. Her usually green eyes now looked grey as she peered dismally into the stormy sky, absorbing the sight of the rainclouds and the mountains surrounding the small city.

The only reason she was on this sad excuse for a planet was because she had received a plea for help from Luke Skywalker; not by traditional methods, as she would have thought, but through the Force. She didn't know exactly what was going on--all she had managed to glean from the message was that he needed help, and he was in the Outer Rim. However, she was intrigued by the fact that he had contacted *her*, not his usual close-knit group of buddies.

It had taken some effort to get a slicer to find his itinerary among all those listed in the New Republic's files, then find the obscure planet on the map in her office. She had left as soon as possible in her faithful Z-95 Headhunter, not having the slightest idea where this little adventure was going to take her.

The rain poured even harder now, falling in sheets of white that occasionally splashed against her skin. *Time to come in*, she sighed inwardly, and pushed open the door behind her. The smell of chemicals, lubricant, and decay hit her like a slap in the face, and she suddenly wondered if being soaked to the bone was preferable to the overpowering stench of the place.

Her Z-95 stood somberly in the middle of the chamber, looking older than its years. Panels to the ship lay on the floor, leaving delicate electronics exposed to the damp air. A greasy, heavy-set man had his head stuck into one of the holes, completely absorbed in his work. "Will she fly?" Mara asked with great concern. The ship had pulled her out of many situations like this, and she wasn't sure she could trust the skills of the mechanic to restore it.

The man pulled his head out and gave a grunt. "Can't say as yet," he said, looking first at the wires, then at the corresponding panel on the floor. "What the hell were you doin' with this thing here, dodging Imperial Star Destroyers?" He tried to joke, but his tone was accusatory and suspicious.

His attitude indicated to her that he was someone not to be trusted. "I just ran into...some old friends," she smiled coldly at the tech, "and I dealt with them properly."

The man took her hint instantly, and quickly swung back into interest in the Headhunter, swearing assurances that the craft would fly, or else.

Mara smiled at the nervousness of the heavy-set man, and turned toward a small vertical slit in the wall, enjoying the smell of the damp air coming through. She wanted to escape the putrid stench of the hangar again, but realized that now she would have to keep an eye on the tech, or else she would wake up the next morning with a horrible headache and a stripped down Z-95.

If only she hadn't run into that TIE Fighter on patrol...well, what was done was done. She had managed to destroy the ship before its pilot could call for help, but not before it had fried her shields and electrical systems with an ion bolt, effectively grounding her here.

*Why didn't Luke mention that this backwater planet was occupied by the Empire?*, Mara thought angrily at both him and herself. She could have ignored his call for help and have continued to sit in her office, shuffling forms, cargo and complaints around, but she found her conscience gnawing at her; Plus, this opportunity for a break was too good to pass up.

Her anger started to flare as she recalled how Talon Karrde had left her in the lurch, leaving her to try and be both the leader and the ambassador of the Smugglers' Coalition. The stress of managing the coalition's affairs and thwarting rivals' takeover plans--with an assassination attempt thrown in for good measure--had threatened to give her a seizure, or at least a nervous breakdown. When Karrde had come back out of "retirement", she couldn't have been happier.

After years of these pressures, the life of a trader appeared almost carefree...or it did until she actually tried living it. More forms and less excitement had left her cold to the idea of being a trader, leaving her with the option of finalizing her Jedi training and becoming a Jedi Knight. *Maybe that's the reason why I came*, she thought wearily, though she couldn't say if that was the only reason.

Her thoughts wandered to Lando, now a happily married man, who had amorously pursued her until she had finally given up and relented. She hadn't expected much of a romance with Lando, and as a result didn't get much. *If Luke had been like Lando, he'd never have left the forest on Myrkr alive*, she thought privately, trying to imagine Luke using pick-up lines while having a blaster pointed at his face. Of course, it would have meant that she'd be dead too, and Thrawn would be more than likely sitting on a throne in the Imperial Palace.

She let out a long, deep breath, trying to compose her thoughts into something more cohesive, and less troubling. Just thinking about Luke had stirred up an old battle between her heart and her mind, both fighting over which would control her actions.

Luke's old girlfriend Callista hadn't been seen in about eight years, yet he remained faithful to her; He could not, or would not, accept the possibility that he would never see her again. Mara watched as the years went by, and Luke fell deeper and deeper into melancholy. She wanted to say something, maybe even tell him how she felt, but her mind told her there was no reason for Luke to care about her, especially considering what she had done and said. This time her mind triumphed, and all her feelings were stifled again by the walls she'd built within herself. *Now all I have to do is get out of here, before any more damage is done.*

She leaned her head against the side of the window, breathing the misty air in heavily. *Why does my life end up so intertwined with his?* she wondered as she gazed out into the street, and watched as the raindrops fell into a puddle just outside the window. She noticed two drops land side by side, sending concentric waves rippling past the other's and into the source of its waves, and marveled how often nature was mimicked in life.

***

Luke Skywalker lowered the pair of macro-binoculars from his eyes and peered toward the horizon, past rocky kraggs that jutted up from the earth and a distant town ringed by mountains, to a large front of metal grey clouds. After living on worlds that actually had rain, he'd learned that meant a storm was coming. He could feel Mara's presence coming from the town, but all his attempts to contact her were futile. She was absorbed with something important, though he couldn't discern what. *Well*, he sighed, *all I can do is try again later.*

He stepped down from the boulder he'd been standing on, and made his way back to his meager camp; a flat sheltered area he'd managed to find along the rocky slope of the mountain. He'd already been on the planet for two days and had yet to sense the presence of the possible candidate.

Luke had heard a rumor of a child who performed "parlor tricks" in a bar in one of the cities on this planet; Gheas, the trader had said, who'd heard the story in turn from someone he knew. He didn't doubt that the rumor was true: he had found many candidates using the same methods. However, the informant had precious little knowledge about the facts of the story aside from the planet's name, Detromi, the town, and the fact that the child was a native.

Using a shuttle the New Republic had loaned him, he had gone out to the planet he was now on, determined to find the child. When he had arrived, he thought that there'd be no hassle--until he accidently came upon one, then two TIE Fighters. The shuttle wasn't decorated with the New Republic emblem, thankfully, or else he would have been blown to bits before he even knew what was going on.

The identification code he had, however, was a Republic code. The TIE Fighters hopefully wouldn't try to stop him--not at first--but if they figured out he wasn't really in distress, it would be a short fight: his defenses were no match for two Imperial fighters. The pilots, however, hadn't caught on to his trick. In fact, they hadn't even done a follow-up check, to make sure he'd been registered. Luckily, the base was just as sloppy. He fed them the same story and promptly landed outside the city, in a trench not too deep to climb out of, but deep enough for them to assume he'd crashed for the time being. He'd covered the ship with stealth netting and some boulders for general looks, to keep out prying eyes. If the pilots and the soldiers at the Imperial base were careless enough to let him through, then he safely assumed that they wouldn't check up on a crashed ship. Obviously this world was controlled by the Empire, but having little or no contact with other Imperial forces had made them inattentive and slovenly. Avoiding Imperial troops would be easy enough, if all their forces were like the ones he had run into.

He looked back towards the horizon. The storm was moving at a relatively slow pace through the mountains--even so, it would be on top of him in approximately 15 minutes, more if he was lucky. Luke sighed audibly. He'd hoped to make it to the town by nightfall, but that didn't seem likely now. It looked like he was going to have to wait until morning.

His campsite was made up of a large tent, some supplies, his backpack and a small, portable communications center he'd brought with him from Coruscant. Looking at it now, Luke was extremely glad he'd brought it along, even though at the time he had been sure he wouldn't need it. The craft he'd taken didn't have a strong enough transmitter to reach Coruscant from the Outer Rim, but now he could broadcast to the New Republic that he'd stumbled onto another Imperial stronghold.

He lifted the comm easily and put it inside the tent, followed by the rest of his supplies, then sat down on the floor and began to concentrate on contacting--or at least detecting--the mind of the person he'd come to find. He focused his probe on a large group of humanoids he'd discovered on a previous search, but found nothing.

Disappointed, but not yet willing to give up, he swept the surrounding area and opened his focus up to include any unusual disturbances in the Force, not just one solitary mind. He had only begun when he felt an immeasurable cold flow through him, and began to shiver in spite of the warmth of the tent. Luke pulled back immediately, shocked at finding such a strong presence of the Dark Side on this planet, but the riddle of why he couldn't contact this person was solved. The tree-cave's Dark Side energy had theoretically masked Yoda on Dagobah, and it appeared that the same effect was happening here as well; turning the previous theory into fact.

*I guess this means I've got a lot of ground to cover*, he grimaced. *I'd better make sure I have Mara with me, or else I'll be wandering around for weeks.* He stood up, and checked his chronometer. He rubbed his eyes and checked it again. Still the same. Then he noticed the sound of rain on the roof of the tent, and it confirmed the chrono's fact; more than a half hour had passed.

Exhausted from his struggle to break free from the malevolent presence, Luke drifted over to his bedroll, consumed with ideas of what the evil force he'd touched could possibly be. But as he fell asleep, his concerns wandered over to Mara, and the disturbing thought that maybe she hadn't been as lucky at avoiding the Imperials as he had.

***

The constant rain continued through the night, turning the streets of the small village into a muddy soup. There was no one outside on a night like this, except for a young girl who had nowhere else to go.

Her clothes were saturated with rain water, chilling her skin even in the choking mugginess of the jungle surrounding the tiny hamlet. Her long dark hair hung down her back and face in thick strings, shadowing unusually large, black expressive eyes that seemed to absorb everything she looked at. Her thin frame spoke of several nights without food, and clothing which had once been in good condition now hung off of her in rags. She skulked silently through the muddy street, avoiding all lighted windows.

The houses in the village were made of a ceramic material that seemed to be all one form, rather than bricks, with roofs made of tightly woven branches and grass, or in some cases, stone shingles. The faded red paint of one house caught her eye, and she recognized it instantly. The girl found an advantageous spot across the street to watch the place, wedged inbetween the walls of two houses, out of sight to anyone happening to look out a window--and sat down to wait.

After several minutes, the door to the house opened and revealed a woman, middle-aged and pale. Wary eyes darted right and left, searching for some sign of life. Seeing none, she took the small bundle and put it just outside the door. Then she slipped back into the house, carefully shutting the door after her.

The young girl's eyes were fixed on the bundle as she made her way stealthily towards the dwelling, mud squishing beneath and into long worn-out boots as she arrived at the door.

She could hear the voices coming from inside. How she longed to stay, to listen to them speak, to not be alone! She knew, however, that to stay would risk her getting caught, and that would doom not only her, but the family inside as well. Tears welled up and ran down already wet cheeks as she grabbed the bundle and made her way back through the village.

She had nearly reached the boundary of the town when she heard the sound of wood slamming against wood.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going in a storm like this?" A gruff voice called out. The sound of the voice made her freeze midstep. The girl turned, and watched as the older man's expression change from mild concern to horror.

"No! St-tay away--", the man nervously twisted around to look for help, for support or for a place to hide. "Help! She's back in the village! The Cursed One's in the village!"

The man's cry of alarm caused the sound of shuffling feet and shouts of anger, fear and confusion to come from the houses around him. Hesitating no longer, she shot forward at a dead run for the safety of the jungle, a place that accepted her unconditionally.

After running for what seemed like hours, she finally came to a small cave she often used for shelter. Pulling back the covering foliage, she staggered inside. The girl collapsed to the floor, her lungs burning anew with each gasp for breath. She pulled dark, wet strands from her face and sat for a long while, expecting to hear the sound of feet crashing through the underbrush.

Nothing triggered her inner alarm during her wait, and the adrenaline in her system ran dry, leaving her aching and exhausted. Using the bundle as a pillow, she curled up for warmth and swiftly fell into a blissful, dreamless sleep.

***

Finding no sign of the girl, the men of the village went back to their dry homes, mumbling unkind words about their escaped quarry.

"Blasted witch! How dare she come back...!"

"Doesn't she know what exile means? She's got powers but no brains!"

"She's scouting out our village for the Scryth, no doubt!

"At least she's gone now. If she comes back....we'll be waiting for her."

The voices drifted off as the mob approached the village, all of them knowing why she had returned. The Council had to be alerted to this breach of exile, if they hadn't been already.

When they arrived, the mob saw that the lights in the Hall were on, signalling that the Council was in session. Some smiled as they thought of the consequences of the girl's actions, and drifted back to their homes. Others frowned, worried about those same consequences, and what it bode for her family.

***

"Darm, they're coming!"

The voice of his wife sounded tense and desperate to Darm Kipetk's ears. As soon as he heard the cries of alarm, he knew that Cerrah had been discovered, resulting in the Council coming for a "visit"--as good as a warrant for his arrest. He looked up from his woodworking to his wife's face, lined with worry but still as beautiful as ever. She was truly human, with long dark hair, blue eyes, and a pale complexion. She was taller than all the women in the village, and as tall as some men, even though she was shorter than the average height for a human.

Darm and the other villagers--the Shadoui, they called themselves--were essentially human, except for their exceptionally large, sky black eyes and their shorter size. They tended to stay away from humans, especially after the Empire first arrived on their planet, determined to either eliminate or enslave their entire population..

He looked past her to their children behind her, three pairs of wide, obsidian eyes staring back at him. His son, Issik, stood tall at all of eight years, who was now the oldest in his sister's absence--she only three years ahead of him. His arm draped protectively around his younger sister Lyrie's shoulders, herself only a couple years below him. Behind them stood the baby, Eirsa, their miracle child, born not more than two winters ago. The fact that their children existed at all had been a miracle in itself, and now he felt as if they were slipping away from his grasp, as Cerrah had. They looked to him for support, something he felt he could no longer give them honestly.

His shoulders slumped from the pain he'd been trying to hide for the past few months, ever since Cerrah had been exiled for "endangering the safety of the village." All of it was being drudged up again, but this time he was determined not to cave in to the Council's demands. Somehow, hopefully, he'd be able to right some of the wrongs that he'd done.

Darm stood up from the table and walked over to the door. "Let's greet our guests, Nila. We wouldn't want to be accused of being impolite." His voice sounded tired and bitter; he was in no mood to be harassed.

He flung open the door, and there stood as much of the Council that would fit on their front stoop, with others trailing behind. The Council Leader, Aileh Topek, had his fist raised in the air, poised to knock on the door. The Leader twisted his aged, leathery face into a pout and quickly dropped his arm down to his side. Darm tried not to look pleased at the humiliated expression on the man's face, punctuated by the white, thinning hair plastered to the elder's skull. He swallowed his laughter and politely, if tersely, asked the Council if they'd like to come in.

"Thank you, no," Aileh sniffed, looking at the insides of the shack with some disdain. "We would prefer that you come to the Hall, so we can hold a formal meeting."

"A formal meeting? For what?" Darm asked nonchalantly.

"You know very well why we're here," piped up a second, reedy female voice from the crowd still standing in the mud."That..girl came back to the village--no doubt to visit you--and by doing so, expressly defied our authority!" Darm wondered how the Council would feel if they knew his daughter had already "defied their authority" at least 5 times since they had exiled her. "So, what does her coming back have to do with me?"

"You are responsible for her, and in her absence you will receive her punishment," the Leader said, trying to reassert his authority. At that statement, the group became very quiet, as did Darm.

"You know what the punishment is for breaking exile," he barely managed to reply, stunned that Aileh would even consider it. "Death." A general twitching and shuffling rippled through the Council, except for Aileh, whose eyes were firmly fixed on Darm's.

"Yes, I do. That is *why* we need to hold the meeting."

"But tonight?" Nila interjected. She had shooed the children away to bed when the Council had arrived, and now couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Can't this wait until morning? We could all use a good night's rest, plus the rain's sure to be gone by then."

"There's a risk that your family might try to flee. After all, you aren't truly one of us, so what would you have to lose?" The old man smirked sourly. Groans from behind him indicated that not all of the Council felt the same way.

Nila's eyes smoldered with barely contained anger at the old man's words, and she began to list off the events of the past thirty or so years, reminding him of her status as a member of the Shadoui, her acts of kindness toward not only him but the entire town as well, and her role as a teacher to all the children of the village until he regretted ever letting those words out of his mouth. Darm took great delight in watching the old sourpuss squirm under Nila's onslaught. He knew very well that the last thing you wanted to do was raise her ire, having been on the receiving end of that tongue many times.

"All right! All right, I give up!" The old man shrieked at last, "Tomorrow morning it is. But I still want someone to watch them, just in case. Any volunteers?"

Dead silence blanketed the group. After a few moments, a man named Jeth Kol spoke up, a friend of the family and a fellow woodworker.

The Council left the house, and separately headed for their own home, leaving the newly appointed guard with his charges.

"Is it alright if I come in?" The man asked meekly, his clothes thoroughly soaked.

"Sure, Jeth." Darm helped the dripping man into the common room. "I'll get you something to dry off with."

As he turned, he saw Nila already carrying a couple of blankets towards them, and marveled over how conscientious she was. It never ceased to amaze him how resourceful she could be, especially at a time like this.

She smiled and asked him to check and make sure the children were in bed. He nodded, and walked over to the door of the children's room.

Though their house was not as big as some of the more affluent townsperson's, they had plenty of room for the family; a common room, a bathroom, two bedrooms and a kitchen: Though the houses looked primitive on the outside, the Shadoui weren't ignorant of technology. In fact, their race had been ancient when the Jedi order had been young. After awhile, though, the Shadoui's ancestors had become bored with technology and power. They decided to take all the accumulated knowledge they had and settle down on Detromi: both for privacy and to avoid the ever-expanding population of humans.

Unfortunately, they hadn't managed to do that. When the humans came thirty-some years ago, they hadn't been prepared for it, and had paid for their solitude. The Empire took away the fields and the highlands from them, hunting them down until they'd run into the forest for shelter, and to join with the kin living in the hamlet. Those who survived the massacre swiftly succumbed to dysentery, and many of the women, children and elderly left afterwards died. Only their small number were left. For some reason, Imperial forces hadn't followed them into the jungle too far--they liked to believe it was because of the Scryth, but it was probably because they thought the dysentery had finished them off.

Even though their numbers were diminished, their knowledge and culture still remained. For the Shadoui, the preservation of their knowledge and their past was deeply sacred, because it held all the answers to their questions, great and small. The knowledge made it possible to live in the jungle, and use limited space for crops and livestock. Humans and the other, new alien races had always said they were insane for turning their collective backs on progress, but for the Shadoui, the lust for ideas and new technology was a dead and long-gone concept. Every thought had already been thought; every idea had already been done. There wasn't much left to do except live, and that didn't require the knowledge of the Ancients. Darm shook his head sadly, wondering if humans would ever begin to understand their philosophy.

Darm quietly opened the door and peeked inside, hoping to find all three asleep. From the slow, steady breathing of the two youngest, he could tell they were asleep, but he instantly knew his son Issik was faking from the rapid pace of his breathing, and his awkward sleeping position.

"Issik, I know you're still awake. Go to sleep.", he chided softly.

Issik's eyes cautiously opened, focusing steadily on Darm's silhouette in the doorway. He raised up on one elbow. "I can't, Dad," he whispered back. "I don't want you to die." He sounded on the verge of tears. A lump started to form in Darm's throat at the thought of Issik pondering over his death.

Silently, Darm walked over to his son's bed and sat down on the edge. "I'm not going to die. The Leader was just trying to impress the rest of the Council. He only reaches out of line as far as his wife's arm." As soon as he said it, he realized his son wouldn't understand what he was talking about, and the look of puzzlement on the boy's face confirmed it. Nila had taken care of Aileh's children in all their times of distress, and the Leader's wife wasn't the type to forget a debt like that. And neither, Darm hoped, would the rest of the Council.

The boy still looked unsure. He tried again, "Let's just say that a lot of the people in the village like us and don't want anything bad to happen to us. All right?" He got a convincing nod from his son. "Good. Now, let's get some sleep, hmm?"

"Okay." Issik slid back under the covers. His father looked back from the doorway at the three children. "Good night, son."

"Good night, Dad."

As Darm closed the door, he couldn't help wishing that tonight *he* had someone to tell him everything was going to be alright.

***

"Dismal night, isn't it sir?"

Commander Boraas Veid turned from the window towards the sound of the voice, into the darkened room. Lieutenant Brann Covell stood on the opposite side of the desk, hands in the pockets of his trousers--not the proper attitude for a junior officer in the presence of his senior officer, Veid noted. The young man's features were dark in the weak light from the window, though he could see that he wore a smirk on his face; a sight the older man was getting more and more tired of seeing.

"Yes, it is a dismal night, Lieutenant." To any other person, he might have added that he could feel the weather in his bones, but he couldn't afford to show any sign of weakness to Covell. He preyed on the weak and aging, always looking for an opportunity to advance. Veid knew that Brann now had his eye on his job, and thoughts he'd had of an early retirement faded like the morning mists that collected in the valley below.

Though Boraas Veid was no longer considered young, he could not in good conscience be considered old, either. Approaching his mid-fifties, he had managed to keep off the weight that usually plagued men in advancing age, and his hair had only started to turn grey and thin out. Veid's eyes still had their raven-like sharpness, and could make any man jump at the sound of his voice. That is, any man but the one who stood in front of him.

Veid looked hard at his rival. "Is there any particular reason why you're here?"

Covell smiled predatorially. "You have a way with words, sir. As a matter of fact, I was just going to tell you that Bortana's taken over my post for the night, so I'm going off-duty. Is that all right with you?" The sarcasm in the officer's voice made Veid cringe. Insubordination was a charge that fit Brann well, but finding competent officer material among the local population was a hard task. That, coupled with the fact that the last two superior officers he'd had vanished without a trace--though no direct link to Covell had ever been established. Just the same, Veid wanted to be alive to enjoy his retirement.

"Of course. I would never deny you a good night's rest." It didn't hurt, either, that this would get rid of Covell; at least until he came in tomorrow. Unfortunately, the lieutenant knew this too. Giving the commander a night's respite from his presence was only fuel for him later, when Veid would be off-guard.

The aging Imperial officer turned back towards the window--a signal to the young officer that he should leave--but Covell had already made his way to the door. The commander could hear it slide open and closed, and then all he heard was the pelting of the rain against the glass of the window.

Veid reflected sadly on his years of service to the Empire, years that had been filled with promise, though in the end, all those promises were hollow. He had even thought about defecting to the Rebels, if he'd thought it would do any good. However, the opportunity had never presented itself, and like so many other of his dreams, he had let this one fade. He'd convinced himself he wasn't Rebel material, because he knew he wasn't the sort of man who could make a difference, the kind that stands out from the annals of history...though he secretly wished he was. But, the bones that ached within his body told him he'd be foolish to even think about escaping this dull, uneventful planet.

He wished now that he'd had a family, even though the Empire frowned heavily on "something so trivial". Then maybe his life wouldn't feel like such a waste.

The intercom on his desk chimed twice, and Veid moved over to the desk to receive the transmission.

"Commander Veid, sir?" The holographic image of a fresh-faced ensign looked back at him with some concern. *As well he might,* the commander reflected darkly, *I should have left an hour ago.* "Yes, ensign, what is it?" He was in no mood for conversation.

"I was going to leave you a message, sir, but since you're there, I might as well tell you. The troops you ordered to check out the wreckage of that crashed ship have reported back, and they found no debris of any kind in that canyon, sir."

"Maybe the ship didn't crash there. It could be in the mountains, or in another canyon."

The ensign emphatically shook his head. "Our tracking system puts the ship in that canyon, sir. There's no trace of it."

"Which means it didn't crash at all. It may have been a pirate, or a smuggler, or...," his voice trailed off. Could it be? After all these years, had they finally come? "Or, a Rebel."

"A Rebel, sir? Do you really think so?" The voice of the ensign sounded eager, hopeful for some excitement to shake up his dull existence. The same tone was echoed in Veid's thoughts.

"Anything's possible." The "crashed" ship put to mind the other ship that had come only days after the first. Coincidence? "What about the other ship? Have you pinpointed where it landed?"

The ensign checked out something to his side. "We should have that information by morning."

"Good. I want a squad of Stormtroopers at the location as soon as the information comes in. Bring anyone near the craft in for questioning, and do not fire unless fired upon. I don't want another fiasco like the riot last year."

"Yes, sir. Understood, sir." The ensign saluted sharply, and ended the transmission. The holo faded, leaving the room dark once more.

Veid's thoughts rested upon the two ships who had innocently disturbed the relative quiet of his sector. *This had better be what I hope it is. I don't think I could take any more disappointments.* He decided finally to go home, but not because he was tired. He had a feeling that tomorrow was going to be a busy day.

***

The chill of the tent's air, and a nagging feeling tugged at the edge of Luke's consciousness until it finally dragged him awake. At first he was disoriented, trying to remember where he was, until it hit him. The probe into the rainforest, the blackout...

He stumbled out into the cold mountain air and took in a deep breath, which helped to clear the last of the cobwebs out of his mind. From the east, the sun had just begun to peak over the ridge to his left, and its light gently settled on a small base set on a plateau across the valley from where he stood. Or rather, a plateau that might have once been a mountain, now leveled and transformed into a base for the glory of the Empire. It stood like a vulture watching its prey over the city below in the valley, the mists still obscuring the majority of its features.

Luke knew that Mara was somewhere in the valley below, and after encountering that dark presence in the jungle, he was glad he had called on her for help. Her skills in navigating through different types of terrain were something he needed desperately, if he was planning on traveling through a potentially dangerous jungle for several days.

That wasn't his reason for calling her here, though. Normally, Han and Leia would've been somehow involved in all of this, but to purposely put them in danger, when they had a family to take care of...that would've been ludicrous. His students...were students, untrained and untested, and the graduates needed to be on their own--not to mention how embarrassing it would be to call on them for help. Lando was still a newlywed, and Chewie's place was with Han and Leia. Mara had no such ties, and was a much better choice in the long run, though he was sure she probably wouldn't see it that way. He'd be lucky if she agreed to continue on with him, instead of getting in her ship and taking off--if that was even possible anymore.

The rationalizations he'd formed were brushed away as he quickly packed his tent, supplies and comm into his backpack and set off in the direction of the city, hoping to get there before the sun rose high enough to shine its light on the sheltered inhabitants below.

***

Boraas Veid entered his office after what felt like only a short rest from the daily routine. Already, the messages had begun to pile up. He activated the first: a personnel report. Next, there was a complaint registered by the mayor of Yualpe, the city in the valley below, asking for leniency on the Empire-enforced weapons manufacture taxes. He wrote a short paragraph in reply, saying that he had read the plea, but had decided not to rescind the tax. Veid knew that to do so would be an incredible tactical error, one that not even a first year cadet would do.

When he reached the third message, his spirits rose. Intelligence had pinpointed where the second ship had landed: the outskirts of the city, where the slums and repair shops were. They had managed to triangulate a section of the outskirts where it was most likely to be, and troops had already been sent out to the area. He smiled with satisfaction at the possibility of finding a Rebel, or even more than one. Soon he would have the answers he needed to all the questions that had been nagging him following the arrival of the two ships.

***

At first it began as a buzzing sensation in her mind, then grew into a full scale alarm that jolted Mara Jade awake. Her back, arms and legs ached from sleeping in the cockpit of her Headhunter, and her vision was blurred from the abrupt awakening, but the sense of danger coming from outside somewhere drove the pain from cramped muscles back into oblivion and had her eyes straining for details in the weak light. She could feel four--no, five--humans coming down the street, directly heading for the small hangar. Their demeanor was cold and with purpose, leading Mara to conclude that these were soldiers, more than likely searching for a renegade ship and its pilot: or in other words, her.

She cursed silently as she eased her way out of the ship, grabbing as many supplies as she could carry, along with her blaster and the lightsaber that Luke had given her several years ago. Normally Mara would have left it behind at home, where it would be safe, but she had felt an overwhelming urge to bring it along. Now she considered it extra weight and an extra worry. If she lost it while trying to dodge those soldiers...*Well, it's with me now. I'll just have to be cautious,* she told herself firmly.

A thin grey beam came from the window at the front of the hangar, the only unlocked opening in the whole place. She couldn't use the front door, and the hangar was built with its back directly up against the mountain, which left only the side door, leading to a narrow alley on the left side of the hangar, and the roof.

All the roofs in this area were flat, and since the valley was crammed for space, all the buildings had been built side-by-side--giving Mara a perfect highway in order to escape. She peeked over the edge of the roof and was chagrined to find nothing but white mist. Reaching out with the Force, she found the five Stormtroopers, still heading for the hangar. She guessed that they'd probably split up: three for the front and two for the side door, if they had done their homework. Hopefully, they wouldn't think to check the roof.

Mara headed west, towards the end of the valley--and hopefully the way out of the town as well.

***

The Stormtrooper leader called for everyone to hold back. He reached for his comlink and turned it on, "We've found the building, Lieutenant."

"Good," Lieutenant Covell replied. "Make sure the scum doesn't escape. He killed one of our best men, and we can't allow that to go unpunished, can we?" The comment about the pilot was more than just a little white lie, but he hoped to arouse the anger of the 'troopers with it.

The leader was more cool-headed and loyal than Covell would have liked, however. "Sir, Commander Veid told us--"

"Never mind what Veid said! *I'm* in command of this operation, and I'm telling you that you may take any means necessary to apprehend the suspect. Have I made myself clear on this matter, Sergeant?" His voice sounded raw and hard-edged over the mild static of the comlink.

"Yes, Lieutenant. We are now entering the building, over." The stormtrooper leader turned off the comlink and re-attached it to his belt.

***

The mechanic awoke to the sound of blaster fire outside the hangar, and just as he got out of bed to find out what was going on, three Stormtroopers were suddenly there with blasters pointed in his face.

"Wh--what's goin' on?" the portly man whimpered, "I ain't done nothing wrong...honest!" His hands waved frantically in the air.

"Who are you? Where'd that Z-95 come from?" the middle Stormtrooper asked, apparently in charge of the group.

"I'm just the mechanic! I own this place, you can check the records yourself!" The man was sweating now, panic-stricken at thought of dying without even knowing why. "Why'd you bust in like that? I'm an honest citizen...I pay my taxes," he said the last defensively.

"We have reason to believe that there is an unauthorized person on the planet. Who owns that Z-95?" The sergeant waved his blaster back in the direction of the ship. The mechanic could tell the trooper's patience was wearing thin.

"Ah--some woman came in a couple days ago with it busted up real bad, looked like it'd been in a fight with somethin', I dunno. She's real pretty, with red hair and a nice bod--", the trooper grabbed the rotund mechanic by the collar of his nightshirt and lifted him a few centimeters off the ground. "Where is she?" He growled at the man.

"I dunno, honest! She was goin' to sleep in the cockpit, and if she ain't there, then I don't know where she'd be!"

The trooper leader thought for a second, then asked the mechanic, "Is there any other way out of here? Besides the two doors?"

The strain of the collar against his neck was sufficient in persuading him to tell about the stairway to the roof. After he'd finished giving directions, he was dropped unceremoniously to the floor. The leader began barking orders, leaving two men to guard the mechanic and also just in case their suspect came back for her ship. The remaining three quickly hurried up to the roof in pursuit of the fugitive, while the leader called for the rest of the squad--hoping to cut her off before she could reach the gate to the west.

***

From the vantage point of the mountain slope, the city looked calm and peaceful in its morning hours, shrouded in a thick fog that layer by layer was beginning to dissipate. Luke could feel Mara's presence stronger now, and if he was sensing it right, she was heading in his direction. Unfortunately, he could also sense three humans behind her and several more ahead of her, hoping she would stumble into them without ever realizing they were there. Mara would be able to sense the others as he had, but there was no way she was going to be able to take on that many of them at once. Luke started scrambling down the slope, throwing away all caution and concern for his own safety in his haste to make it to Mara before her enemies did.

The mist continued to evaporate gradually, revealing more of the roof line in front of her, though it was still too thick for her to see the ground. *Good,* Mara thought with satisfaction. *If I can't see them, then they can't see me.*

The three Stormtroopers had begun to gain on her, forcing her to move even faster than caution would advise. She had crossed over two more roofs when suddenly a screaming alarm went through her skull, and she stopped dead in her tracks. She squinted into the fog, and caught a glimpse of movement; the swing of a gun barrel, if she wasn't mistaken. As quietly and as fast she could, Mara dove for the rooftop, hoping that the one who had the gun also didn't have excellent eyesight as well.

A quick scan of the area proved her worst fears: She had fallen into a trap. There were approximately five 'troopers ahead and three coming up from behind, creating a bottleneck between the ground several stories down on one side, and a large gap between the mountain slope and the roof edge on the other. She was effectively stuck. She reached out further, to check for more troops, and was surprised and relieved to feel the presence of the man who had indirectly put her into this situation. Mara used her strength in the Force to call out to him for help. *Luke! I need some help here. You wouldn't mind taking the five in front of me while I take the other three?*

Words that seemed to speak in the voice of Luke Skywalker formulated in her mind and replied in an amused tone, *Of course not, Mara. Just wait until I'm in range before you do anything.* She responded an affirmative, and diligently checked Luke's descent down the slope, hoping that he'd make to the roof before the Stormtroopers caught up to her.

Luke could feel the roof top coming closer with every rushed step down the slope. After several seconds he finally made it within safe jumping distance, but he hadn't made it close enough to Mara to deflect the inevitable blaster fire. He caught Mara's nervousness and tightly-controlled fear, and wished he could give her some reassurance, but there wasn't enough time for that. Instead, he jumped down to the roof, grabbing his lightsaber and igniting it--making him a target for the Stormtroopers below and a signal for Mara to start her attack.

She caught the weak gleam of green light struggling through the fog, and snapped her own lightsaber into action, creating a blue halo in the thinning mist. A blaster would have been better for distance, but she knew that her best weapon for close in-fighting was the one firmly held in her standard two-handed grip.

She could see movement increasing on both sides; the group of five moving away from her towards the deadly gestures of the green lightsaber, while the three others began closing in rapidly, drawing out their guns. She turned to face the three, and heard the noise of blasters going off behind her, hitting Luke's lightsaber and ricocheting off into the mist. Soon enough, laser bolts from the three began spewing in her direction. Letting the Force flow through her, she moved the lightsaber to block every shot, gracefully dodging and blocking all the blasts taken at her. One ricochet caught the trooper to the left straight in the chest, causing him to fly backwards into the fog. She rushed over to the remaining two in order to finish them off, but they in turn tried to distract Mara by getting on either side of her. The one who had formally been in the middle now tried to shoot at her close range, but a little push from the Force directed the muzzle over her shoulder. The blast missed his target entirely and instead caught the trooper on her right on the shoulder, spinning him around enough to make him lose his balance and trip over the edge of the roof, disappearing into the white vapor. Mara easily sliced through the remaining soldier, and turned her attention back to where Luke was fighting.

Three Stormtroopers' bodies lay on the roof surrounding Luke, felled by the ricochet of their own blaster fire. He held his lightsaber in front of him, prepared for any attack. The two that were left had realized that they weren't facing a normal enemy, and had stopped shooting, knowing that to continue would only lead to the same fate as their fellow soldiers.

The younger, more headstrong one decided to end the stalemate and try a tactic that might throw the man off. He charged head-first into the Jedi, firing his blaster continuously. The last stormtrooper was so fascinated by the resulting display that he failed to hear the light footsteps behind him, and only discovered his mistake after he felt the tap on his shoulder, wheeled around, and felt the burning, liquid pain of a lightsaber slicing through his middle. The blackness that claimed him was the last thing he ever found fascinating.

Chapter 2

The Hall was an ancient structure, the hub of all the activities in the village and the cornerstone of the people's lives. It stood four to five stories above the smaller huts and formed the basis of the village's circular structure. All the stone-paved roads lead to the center of town while dirt roads connected one street to the next. The ivory tower had windows around its circumference on every level, and a main floor where people could air their grievances. It was also where the Council held their meetings.

The same morning that greeted Luke Skywalker and Mara Jade with violence now shed its sourness on Darm Kipetk and his family, as his trial started early that day. The twenty members of the Council, dressed in plain white robes, sat in a small semi-circle around Darm, with the rest of the Shadoui who had come that morning standing opposite the Council. Muddy streets and the earliness of the trial kept most away, leaving only Darm's staunchest opposers and most trustworthy friends--his friends outnumbering his foes three to one.

"The Council will now begin the trial of Darm Kipetk, charged in the absence of his daughter, Cerrah, with betrayal of exile. How does the accused plea?" Aileh Topek's voice turned into a squeal.

"Do I have a choice?" Darm asked tiredly. It was almost a direct insult to the Council to insinuate that they were anything but fair.

The Leader didn't miss Darm's point. "We are nothing if not a fair judge of truth and innocence. Justice *will* be done."

Darm's face twisted in outrage, but he held himself in check. It would not be wise to needlessly upset the Council, not when his life, and more than likely the lives of his family, were at stake. "I understand."

"So, how do you plea?" Aileh smiled faintly, as if he had won a small battle. His prejudices against Darm's wife were well known, but rarely echoed.

"Based on the fact that the exile was unjust, and therefore meaning that this trial is unjust, I would have to say 'not guilty', honored leader."

This sent a shockwave through the crowd and the Council. His accusation caused one of the Councilmembers to speak. "Why do you say this, Darm? You agreed with our decision at the time. What is different now that wasn't then?" An older woman asked, a person he'd known since childhood. She hadn't wanted to exile Cerrah, and neither had other members, but the more conservative side of the Council had won them over, chiefly on the point of the village's safety. If Cerrah wasn't a hazard, then there would be validity to his statement.

"Mainly, I understand now what a mistake I made in not opposing the decision beforehand. My wife is human, and it is known that the genetic inheritance in humans of sensitivity in what they call the 'Force' is strong, where the Shadoui have not had anyone with this sensitivity for millennia. It is also known that my wife has this sensitivity, but what isn't known,..." he turned to his wife, not knowing if he should continue. He was reassured by her nod of approval and went on. "It isn't known that she was *trained* to use this ability from when she was a child, before our people took her in. Nila has lived among us in peace, because she learned how to use this 'Force'; her control over it is much stronger than Cerrah's. Cerrah was only experimenting with her talent, and Nila was sure to keep her from going too far. We knew that anything could happen, but we never thought of her as a threat. When the matter was brought before the Council, we assumed that our judgement might have been clouded because she's our daughter, but we never thought it would end up like this." His voice ended in a near-whisper, stricken by how fast things had gotten out of control.

Another wave rippled through the crowd. The Shadoui didn't dislike Jedi--in fact, they had a mild admiration for them, partly because they held so much power in their hands and managed to exert self-control. However, they also considered them an incredible risk; wherever Jedi went, trouble was sure to follow. That, in fact, had been the main reason to exile Cerrah in the first place. Every year that passed saw an increase in her ability, and like the child she was, she experimented. A few minor incidents led to a panic, and many townsfolk came to the conclusion that she must be cursed and possessed by the Scryth; an unknown evil that lived and thrived deep in the jungle. Exile seemed like a logical idea at the time, but like most ideas, a gnawing doubt had settled into the minds of most, and the fact that a Jedi--or as near as anyone had ever seen--had lived among them for several years without any harm to the village was enough to unsettle those gathered in the Hall.

"Is this true?" Aileh questioned Nila, who stood behind Darm in front of the crowd. The Leader looked absolutely terrified.

Nila glanced at the faces of each member of the Council, and managed to summon enough courage to answer, "Yes, it's true. All of it."

"But why didn't you tell us?" A third member asked--a man almost as old as Topek--known for his robust personality and compassionate heart.

"It's not that I didn't want to tell you all, but...I doubted that you would understand, and I was afraid of what you'd do. If you could exile her, what would you have done to me? Would I have been exiled, or killed? If we rebelled against the Council's decision, what would become of our children? If we left, we'd have to go to the Imperial town for food, and that would lead them back here, eventually.

"I've abided by the Council's decisions almost all of my life, and when my daughter was accused like that," she paused; the words were coming too fast to her mind. She wanted to say everything at once, to let all her feelings out, but instead attempted to put them in an order that would clearly illustrate how she felt. It wasn't easy.

"She's my blood, my life and soul, as are all my children.When she was sentenced, I told her--and myself--the exile would be temporary. I believed that I'd find a way around it somehow, but I never did. Before she left, I told her to come back on a certain night, and she's been coming back to the village regularly ever since. Darm knew about some of the visits, but not all. I've been trying to please the Council in this matter, but I just can't do it anymore!" Tears began to stream down her face as she thought about those nights when Cerrah was out alone, and how ashamed she felt at her actions. "Please, you have to let my baby girl come back! I have to finish her training before the Scryth realizes her potential! I'm so afraid for her, please,..." Nila looked directly at Aileh, "I'm so sorry for deceiving you, but neither Cerrah or I would ever do anything to harm anyone in this town, you must believe me!"

The silence of the room was unbroken for several seconds, until the Leader cleared his throat and addressed the crowd. "The Council will deliberate this matter upstairs. We will have our decision at noon." The Councilmembers rose in unison and went single file up the stairs along the wall, and the crowd held its breath until the last member disappeared into the second floor.

Chattering broke out among the crowd, mostly in support of Darm and Nila, hoping that the members would be wise in making their ruling. Darm approached his wife and children, hugged them all, and said gloomily, "I think the worst is yet to come."

***

The young girl was already awake and alert by the time the sun rose, even though its light was heavily filtered by the foliage of the jungle. Cerrah had opened the contents of the bundle, and found enough food to last her for the next couple of days alone, but when combined with what she could forage it would easily stretch into a week.

When she had first started the exile, her mother had given her food, supplies and clothing enough to last a month, but Cerrah quickly learned that in order to survive in the jungle, you had to travel light, so a month later she told her mother to give her only what she needed. Her mother hadn't liked it, but she was forced into complying with her daughter's wishes.

Being in exile had given her an opportunity that she hadn't had before, and her natural curiosity had overpowered her. A couple of villagers mentioned a human town that lay along the riverbank of the river that ran not far from their village; though it was far upstream, to the north and east towards the plains, into where the land swelled into foothills and mountains.

The sight of a human town--half of her ancestry--was compelling enough to the girl for her to follow the river upstream, past a steep waterfall and carefully skirting a lake that was known to be cursed. All plant-life that fed off the lakewater were disfigured, gnarled and brown, even though the plants and trees near the river downstream were fine. It wasn't the water, exactly....but rather something *in* the lake that was causing it. It was known to all the Shadoui as the lair of the Scryth.

Cerrah knew the stories of the Scryth, of the evil it had caused, but what it was exactly no one knew--not even the ancient ones who knew everything there was to know about the forest. Even when she had gone deep into the surrounding wilderness to avoid the twisted vegetation, she could feel a cold, chill touch coming from the lake. It took all her courage not to run for her life, but her feet didn't move any slower, either.

After several days of traveling, the human town had finally come into view. Trees had begun to thin in acquiescence to the rolling prairie: grasses up to her waist and flying insects thick in the air. She followed the river as close as possible without being detected, her gaze locked primarily on the city in front of her.

It *was* a city; to her young, inexperienced mind, at least. She could see farms in the distance, with houses and buildings increasing in intensity as they came closer to the epicenter. The city was walled in, with taller buildings peeking up from behind the wall and from behind each other. Cerrah had never seen anything like it in her entire life.

When she had entered the town, she had received many stares and strange looks. She'd ignored them, however. The odd sights and sounds of the town had captivated her, drawing her deeper and deeper into the heart of the city. Her curiosity grew as she watched droids scuttling hastily after their masters, floating craft drifting through the air, weaving their way past tall spires and stocky megaliths. She saw white and black figures marching to various destinations, paying no mind to those they passed. Cerrah thought at first they were mechanical, but their gait and posturing were too life-like, and the fear they inflicted was far-reaching and powerful. These armored men had authority, and were not afraid to use it.

It wasn't long before she had gotten into mischief. Thinking she was free from the restraints of the village--and her parents--she began to experiment again, first by driving a stray pet wild with her use of the Force, taunting the poor beast by moving a piece of debris on the street back and forth, up and down, and in circles around the pet until it collapsed on its side, exhausted from trying to capture the scrap of trash.

She then moved on to bigger projects, growing in scale and intensity, until a local farmer caught her in the middle of placing another can on top of an already precariously high stack of metal containers, attempting to recreate the towers in the city. Startled, she had lost her hold on the can and the mimicking spire of garbage, and had run for the gate. She heard no shouts of alarm, no movement to stop her, and she was well into the forest before she found that no one was chasing her. Confused, Cerrah had stood there, not knowing what to do. This city wasn't like her village at all. If she had been caught doing something like that by one of her people...well, they definitely wouldn't have shrugged it off.

She had two choices. She could go back to the human town, and hopefully stay out of trouble, or head back towards her village. The first had a greater likelihood of shelter and food, and the second held no promises of safety or being fed, and her rations were dangerously low as it was. Her obsidian eyes took in her surroundings, the afternoon shadows hiding imaginary beasts, and the wind rustling the leaves to create the illusion of movement within the bushes. Her decision made, Cerrah quickly headed back towards the relative safety of the city, willing to accept whatever punishment awaited her.

To her surprise, there was no punishment. The farmer told the incident to a friend of his who in turn told the story to an ambitious young woman, looking for a new act to draw crowds to her bar. Cerrah stood out from the crowd of humans around her, and in no time the young woman found her and brought her back to the tavern. The woman was an attractive brunette--heavier than fashion dictated--but strong enough to hold her own in a fight. Her name was Larisa, and Cerrah took to her instantly, partly because in a small way, Larisa reminded her of her mother. The bar owner asked for a demonstration of what Cerrah could do, and was delighted at the show the young girl gave her, spinning glasses in the air and making napkins dance on the table in front of her. She signed the girl on right then, and for the next month Cerrah had a place to stay and food to eat. Unfortunately, the armored men--called Stormtroopers, Cerrah later found out--had begun to investigate the bar, and the unusual main act. Larisa told her to leave, for both their sakes, and gave her extra food and clothing for her trip back, though Cerrah didn't understand why she had to leave. She would never know what happened to the lady, and the events she had inadvertently set in motion.

***

The tension of the battle drained away quickly after the last trooper fell, leaving Mara and Luke standing opposite each other with the remains of the smoldering Stormtroopers between them.

"It's good to see you," Luke ventured out first, hoping that this whole situation hadn't soured her mood too badly.

"Good to see you, too," Mara replied back, trying not to betray her feelings one way or the other. She could sense, though, a light probe of her mind--coming from Luke, obviously. "What's the matter? You afraid I'm going to rip you open or something?" She joked lightly. Luke's sense was uncertain, and also a bit surprised--he hadn't thought she could detect his probing.

She smiled, partly from catching him off-guard, and also partly from the fact that he was walking on eggshells around her. *I wonder why?*

"I'm sorry I got you into all this," Luke apologized, a bit sheepishly. "If I'd known this would happen..."

"Look, can we save this for later? I don't think the rest of the troop is going to wait for us to finish our chat," Mara interrupted.

"Right. Let's go." He started moving toward the mountain face, Mara following fast on his heels. When he got to the edge, he looked up the side, trying to find the quickest route up. Unfortunately, it looked like it would take at least twice as long to climb back up as it had to rush down it.

"The way this mist is vanishing, there's no way we'd be able to make it to the top before they'd spot us," Mara frowned.

"Unless,..." Luke drifted off in thought. "I've got an idea." He looked at her earnestly, "I'm going to try levitating us both up the side."

"Both of us? But that mountain's gotta be at least 1500 meters high,..." she caught the reprimanding look in his eye, and corrected herself, "...sorry, I forgot."

"It's okay, I know how you feel." He moved closer to her, shyly, "You'd better hang on to me, just in case. It'll be simpler to think of levitating one object, rather than two."

She eyed him skeptically, for show. Inside, the battle raged anew. "All right. Let's get started." She closed her eyes and awkwardly wrapped her arms around his neck, while he focused on the two of them rising, and quickly felt the ground leaving his feet--and Mara's grip on him tightening as they ascended.

"Are you all right?" Luke asked with some concern.

"I'm fine. Just concentrate on getting us to the top!" She managed through clenched teeth.

He directed all his attention back towards the levitation--completely unaware that his arms had reflexively circled around her waist.

The ascent to the top of the mountain felt like an eternity for the both of them, so when their feet touched solid ground again it met with some disbelief. Luke was the first one to fully realize that they were at the top, and so was the first to take in their surroundings. He could see the base clearly now, shining in the fully-risen sun. The mist had evaporated enough to see the buildings in the town, and would quickly allow the people in the streets below an unobstructed view of the mountains enclosing them.

Luke noticed that his arms were still wrapped around her, and could feel Mara's grip loosening as she began to focus on where they were. His face was hot with embarrassment, and as he began to pull his arms free, he realized--with some concern--that he didn't actually want to move his arms away.

The morning sun shone off her hair, creating a flaming whirlwind that blew freely in the bitterly cool breeze. Her eyes glittered in the light as she directed her gaze on him, looking both frazzled and concerned. He could clearly feel a swelling of emotion in her, similar to what he had experienced the day before, but now he could see her face as well. She was terrified.

"What's wrong?" he asked, disturbed by the look on her face.

She pushed herself out of his tenuous embrace. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong...it's just...let's get moving, all right? The faster we're out of here, the better."

"Right." Logically, he would've assumed that she was afraid of heights, but she was one of the best pilots he knew, and being acrophobic wasn't a quality of a good pilot. It had to be something else...but what? He would have asked, but her attitude informed him any probing into that area would more than likely cause a violent backlash.

The biting mountain air sliced through his clothing easily, urging him to follow Mara, who was already descending the other side of the rocky slope. It had been years since his emotions had taken that direction...ever since Callista had left. It made him feel ashamed, as if he was cheating on her behind her back, even though it had been so long that the idea of cheating seemed ridiculous. Even so, it caused him to reflect.

Over the years, his thoughts of her had gone from every day, to once or twice a week, to a couple times a month, then finally ever so often. He had truly never forgotten her, but time had faded his memory. In the back of his mind, he was still hoping that she would come back, but the years had taken their emotional toll, leaving him with only memories and might-have-been's.

The feelings he'd felt from Mara mystified him, nevertheless. *What just happened?* he wondered, puzzled. Luke put his curiosity aside for the moment and trailed behind Mara, hoping that they'd find another place to camp as far away from the Imperial base as possible.

***

The tension in the Council room was palpable. Stress was evident on every face in the Council, each for their own reasons. If the Council Leader had his way, things would not go well with Darm Kipetk and his family.

"I don't see what we need to talk about. Kipetk's whole family is obviously against the village, and our way of keeping law and order. We should banish the whole lot of them!" Aileh was saying to the Council.

Several members of the Council disagreed, however. "Having the presence of Jedi in our village is a blessing, and a deterrent to the Scryth," argued the elderly woman who had asked Darm the reason for his accusation. She hoped to encourage the presence of Jedi in the village, if only to keep their village safe.

"Jedi may be kind of troublesome, but I feel that a trained girl is more a benefit to us, than leaving her to the interests and wiles of that...Darkness," added Jeth.

Many heads nodded in agreement. The Council seemed to be split down the middle; Ten members for Darm, ten against. Most of the women had been persuaded by Nila's plea, but were also circumspect at her credibility for keeping the extent of her knowledge a secret. While it could go either way, there would be some sort of punishment handed down--though to whom, and for what, the Council didn't know yet.

An elderly man stood up, the same one who had spoken up during the trial, and the rest of the members could feel the strength of his personality from his stare, the weak frame of his body foiling the power of his soul.

"What we are challenged with, at this moment, is whether or not Cerrah Kipetk is a threat to our village," his voice echoed off the thick, plaster walls. "Her mother has admitted to us that she is trained in 'the Force', and that she was training her daughter at the time we exiled the child," Some members squirmed in their seats, including Aileh. "However, we now have a chance to right that wrong, if it's not too late. At the time, it seemed prudent to put the welfare of the village over that of the individual, but what if we've contributed to our own downfall? We thought that she *might* have been contaminated, but sending her into the forest was...well, we may have sent an innocent girl into the mouth of the beast. If the Scryth hasn't gotten to her yet, there may be a chance to save our village."

"What do you mean 'save' it, Rowan?!" Aileh questioned angrily. "Getting rid of her was the best thing to do, and bringing her back will only make matters worse!"

"If they do get to her, who do you think she will attack first?"

The silence Rowan got was answer enough. "We need to get her back before that happens. I'm sure her mother can handle her if there are problems."

Aileh's face was twisted into a scowl, a sign that Rowan's argument was wearing him down--and the thought of coming home to a very unhappy wife. "The girl needs to be punished somehow. If not exile, then what?"

Rowan smiled in triumph. "I'm sure we can think of something."

***

The eyes of Lieutenant Covell blazed with an incredible fury as he heard of the escape of the fugitive from the own mouth of the squad leader--who'd managed to survive the fall off the roof and the laser blast he'd taken from his own trooper. The debriefing was not all he'd hoped for, but it would have to suffice. He ran his fingers nervously through ink-black hair as he paced the length of the now empty debriefing room, trying to assimilate the facts he'd gleaned only a few minutes ago.

The news of an accomplice was not too surprising. He knew of Veid's suspicions about the two ships' connection, and of the near-certainty that the two they'd encountered were Rebels. The glowing swords they'd held--lightsabers, he'd heard someone call them--were a rarity that some knew of, but few had ever seen. Still, it was maddening to know that two trophies had escaped through his fingers.

To him, success was all that mattered. His father had left with the main body of troops when the Empire had begun to leave several years ago, before the Battle of Endor. He'd never seen his father again. Not that he cared anymore.

He wanted to prove to himself and others that he wouldn't be another face in the crowd, another abandoned mouth to feed. That attitude had driven him to the Empire's service, and their training had tempered his anger with ambition. He made few friends and those he did make, he used as stepping stones in order to raise higher in rank. Any others in his way, he disposed of, one way or another.

*When Veid finds out about this fiasco*...he shut that thought out. He instead began to organize a plan in his mind, one that would get him the rewards he deserved and hopefully see the last of Commander Boraas Veid.

***

Darm's eyes followed those of the crowd, and rested squarely on the twenty members of the Council, streaming in a line from the room above and into their seats. The crowd remained standing.

The Leader stood up, in order to grab their attention. He needn't have bothered, since everyone's gaze was already focused on him.

"We have deliberated, and we have come to the conclusion that the girl, Cerrah Kipetk, was given an unjust sentence, one that did not match the crime she incurred against our people."

Darm didn't believe what he was hearing, at first. Then it dawned on him that the Council, while admitting it had made a mistake, wasn't lifting the accusation from Cerrah. What was going on?

"We have decided to give her a lighter sentence, one that is given in respect to her age, and in light of new evidence presented before us this morning. Therefore, she will be escorted back to the village, and placed in the custody of her parents on a trial basis. In the event of new occurrences, she will be placed in the Hall's correctional facility pending investigation and a hearing on whether to adjust her sentence. As for Darm Kipetk," Aileh looked distastefully at him, "His trial, and Cerrah's, for breach of exile is acquitted, due to the oversight of the Council. However, since Nila Kipetk withheld information from the first trial, she is charged with withholding evidence, and is sentenced to the standard 100 hours of community service. This court is adjourned." With that, the whole Council stood and filed back up the stairs, to change back into their normal clothes.

Rumbles and cheers swept through the crowd; some unhappy with the ruling, some overjoyed beyond belief. That last sentence was mere fluff for Nila; she already was doing community service--and loving every minute of it.

Darm grabbed Eirsa and swung her around with joy, his daughter squealing in delight. Cerrah was coming home! He looked at his wife, her face beaming with barely contained happiness. "We won." He said simply, and she echoed back, "Yes, we won," a smile still on her face as she kissed him passionately, amid the cheers of their friends and neighbors rejoicing over Darm's good fortune.

***

Shortly after the crowds had dispersed from the Hall, search parties were formed in order to locate and bring back Cerrah. Nila wanted to go as well, but Darm convinced her to stay and take care of the children, and also in case she came back on her own. His search party planned to go up the river, to him the likeliest route she would've followed from the town. The others wheeled out in other directions, most in the direction she was last seen headed.

By the time the groups were formed and their search area set, it was already late afternoon. Darm and a couple other parties swept the immediate area, but turned up nothing. The rain had washed away any tracks she would have left, and aside from a few broken stems, they could only form the most rudimentary of ideas as to where she could have headed. They returned, disappointed, but not without hope. The real search would begin at first light.

***

The search for Luke and Mara was not quite so lackadaisical. Lieutenant Covell took personal control over the search, and assembled a small strike force in a short matter of time. However, the antiquated machinery and communication equipment he'd requisitioned broke down constantly, taking hours to try and fix in the field. Finally, his patience ran thin and he ordered the technicians in charge to take the vehicles back to the city while they continued on foot. He hoped that the technicians would remember to send other transports when they arrived, but knowing them, he'd be lucky if they actually fixed the things.

The troops were in poor shape; they hardly made any distance at all before nightfall, and many were tempted to just head back to the city and wait for the repairs there. Covell was in a rage, though, and no one dared to cross him. For the rest of the troops, they knew that eventually they'd catch up with the fugitives. It was only a matter of time.

***

The descent down the slope wasn't as treacherous as Luke had feared. By nightfall, he and Mara had made it to the foothills and set up camp in a small forest along a wide river. Luke still had his backpack, so he pitched the tent and started fiddling with the transmitter/receiver, hoping to send a message to Coruscant that night.

Mara's eyes widened as she watched Luke with the transmitter. "Does that thing work?" She asked cautiously.

"Yeah. At least it did yesterday."

A concerned look crossed her face. "Aren't you afraid that they'd be able to home in on that? Wouldn't be too hard to do." Her eyes narrowed from the light of the camp's lantern.

"The Empire can't home in on the signal because you can't trace it to its source. The transmitter was designed that way. And," he continued, "I should be able to send information to Coruscant without attracting too much attention."

"Ah." Mara accepted the fact without much comment. Several minutes passed without a word spoken, and the silence between them grew until both Luke and Mara could feel it as a smothering presence that canceled out all attempts at conversation.

At last, Luke broke the silent wall between them. "I'm sorry."

"Luke, I thought we already had this conversation--"

"I shouldn't have asked you to come," he interrupted. "I needed help, and I really didn't think too far ahead. You could have been killed."

Mara rested her head on her hand, deciding to let the last comment drop. "Just out of curiosity, what *is* this all about, anyway?" Her voice having only the slightest edge of irritation. Learning to control her anger was one of the hardest things for her about using the Force, and she was determined to show she could do it.

"That's right, I haven't told you, have I?" He cleared his throat, more of a nervous reaction than anything else. "I've heard that there's a child who can control the Force, and he or she has developed pretty far, from what I've heard. The trader I talked to said the child was in a town called Gheas, about a day's walk from here, downriver. I would have sent one of my students to investigate, but I decided to go myself, thinking that it wouldn't keep me from Leia and her children for too long."

"Except now we've both landed on a planet controlled--albeit weakly--by the Empire." A thought came to her, spurred on by the last thing he had said. "They were on Yavin IV? I thought your sister was supposed to be at a summit meeting on Coruscant." She asked, confused.

"No. *I* was on Coruscant, actually. I'm...not really teaching anymore. Some of the graduates have decided to stay and teach, so I'm not needed there," he explained.

"So, what do you do all day? I can't picture you sitting around with nothing to do."

He smiled, "No, I guess you couldn't. Actually, I've been helping Leia with teaching my niece and nephews; now that they're getting older, they'll be needing more guidance. And, I've been looking for new students--though the only place I've had any luck is some dive that Han used to frequent. That's where I heard the rumor."

"Rumor? Wait a minute," Mara stood up. "You mean to tell me that I'm stuck on a planet crawling with Imperial leftovers because you decided to follow some rumor?!" The anger he sensed from her wasn't all that distant from the kind she used to harbor several years ago, when it was directed at him. Except now, it was aimed at many things; the Empire, their situation, him, and life in general.

Luke didn't blame her for being angry. In fact, he had been expecting this for awhile. "From what you just said, I take it that you no longer have the ship you came in with?" She nodded. "For what it's worth, my ship is still intact, but,..." he pointed back the way they had come. "...it's in a canyon back that way."

"I see." Her anger drained away, pointless for the moment. "So, what do we do now?"

Luke stood up as well, trying to summon up courage enough to ask her to come with him...but one look from Mara told him what he wanted to know.

She was smiling, oddly enough. "You want me to go with you, to find this child? Considering my options, I really don't have a choice, do I?" She had wandered over until she stood only an arm's length away.

"I'm in."

Chapter 3

The morning dawned clear and bright, with a slight chill to the air that spoke of the coming autumn weather. Commander Boraas Veid breathed in the cool air from the window of his private quarters, the only thing that could soothe him in light of the Rebels' escape from the valley. A strange mixture of anger and sadness ran through him; Angry at the ineptitude of the soldiers and the quality of the equipment they had to work with, but also saddened by the sudden loss of purpose, of excitement. Having a solid enemy gave him a reason to live, an energy that didn't come when arguing over taxes or squelching riots.

Questioning the fugitives was his main priority, in order to substantiate the rumor he'd heard from the few traders that came this way. The Empire was strengthening again, slowly but surely. If it was true--the Empire was rising again--then he needed to make some decisions concerning the future. *His* future, to be precise. Would the new regime welcome as weak a link as his outpost? Did they even know it existed? All these thoughts burdened him, in addition to Brann Covell.

For now Covell was following orders, but he might take matters into his own hands and kill the Rebels for his own glory, and also to win the soldiers' support.

Veid got dressed for work and arrived in his office promptly, the messages and forms having piled up once again. This time, however, he felt a challenge and dug into his work enthusiastically, feeling an energy and a vitality he hadn't known for years.

***

Covell's strike force shuffled along at a sluggish pace, with most of the soldiers seeing the sun rise for the first time in many years. Having the Stormtroopers march was almost primitive, but for Covell, it was better than waiting in the valley and twiddling their thumbs. Besides, the Rebels would have to find transportation off the planet, since the Z-95 had been confiscated and the other ship was believed to be wrecked--though they had still to find its remains. More than likely, they would head for Gheas, the farming-trading town/outpost and spaceport along the Moras River, and try to find transportation off-planet there. The guards at Gheas had already been alerted to the fugitives' presence, and were prepared to stop anyone who seemed suspicious. They had a fairly good description of the woman, but a computer check turned up nothing; no warrants pending, not even a name. Their criminal database, however, was so old that no one was surprised when it failed to produce any leads. Meanwhile, the other Rebel was a complete mystery. It could be a man, a woman, or an alien--likely enough considering who they were dealing with. That one might get through the guards, but the red-haired woman would find it nearly impossible to slip through unnoticed, Covell smiled to himself. He became exultant with the prospect of elevating to the rank of Commander, and seeing Veid trembling at his feet, begging for mercy.

***

Luke and Mara had been walking along the riverbank for an hour by the time Covell got his troops moving. Both of them had sensed a large population--Gheas, most likely--several kilometers down the river. Luke estimated that they'd arrive outside the town just before sunset, hopefully in time to find some place to sleep.

"I'm surprised the Imperials haven't caught up to us already," Luke said absent-mindedly, speaking mainly to past the time. "I figured they were sloppy, but this is ridiculous!"

"You're right. We should be in a jail cell by now, or dead," Mara agreed. "They might be tracking us, though...or maybe setting an ambush up ahead. Either way, it seems that they're not too worried about us getting away, and that worries me."

Luke was about to turn and ask why, when he suddenly realized what she meant. As far as the Imperials knew, they had lost their ships and logically, the next place they would head to would be a spaceport, or a town with transportation to someplace with a spaceport...just like they were doing right now. "So, you think we're heading into a trap?" he asked with some concern.

Mara shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. It's possible that they really are this incompetent--the fact that we managed to get onto the planet at all is proof of that--but they could be hoping that we'd relax our guard and forget about them." She shifted her backpack to a more comfortable position, then continued on, "I think we'd better assume there's an ambush, or a trap."

"What they don't know is that we aren't planning to leave the planet just yet," Luke sounded slightly triumphant at the thought of that. "If there *is* a trap, it'll be mostly likely set at Gheas. If we head straight in, there's a good chance we'll be springing the trap,..."

"...But if we sneak in somehow, " Mara finished his thought, "we would have the upper hand. They'd never know we were there."

Luke stopped and waited for her to catch up. The look on his face was one of concentration and excitement, trying to figure out himself their best course of action."What do you think?" he asked her suddenly, but sincerely; if anyone knew what to expect from the Empire, it was she. Mara watched him for a second, and noticed that he was gazing at her with complete faith and respect, something that nearly startled her out of her train of thought. She recovered quickly, however, and began to give voice to some of her ideas, with the strongest first and the weakest last. After a few minutes of swapping ideas, they were on their way again--this time with a clearer plan in mind and their eyes fixed toward their destination.

***

Berries and dried meat weren't exactly Cerrah's opinion of the ideal breakfast, but she had been living on this and similar food for a while now, and all she cared about was stifling her hunger pains and surviving. She had spent the past day in her shelter, for fear of search parties coming after her in order to carry out the sentence. Her heart was sick at the thought that they might punish her family instead of her, even though she was the guilty one. Most of the hours had been spent agonizing over the consequences of being discovered. *What if they kill Father instead of me? What will happen to Mother, Issik, Lyrie and dear Eirsa?* She wondered over and over again, torturing herself with the possibilities.

This morning, however, had brought no sign of anyone, and Cerrah had ventured out in the direction of her next home--a small house abandoned long ago, when the Empire had come and sought to kill any aliens it could find. It had been set by the waterfall, taking advantage of the calming and peaceful effect of the rushing water. Today, its soothing sound did nothing to ease the turmoil in her.

The house was used occasionally by the people of the village, so it wasn't run-down or in disrepair. Flowering bushes and vines shrouded most of the adobe exterior and its windows as well--mostly for the privacy of the newlyweds who'd come to stay there. The small garden had been reclaimed by the jungle, as had most of the shrubbery that had made up the lawn. The stone walkways still existed, as did the rock wall...but little else. No one had visited the cottage for several months, and that only to trim back the overgrowth and check the house for damage. It was the perfect living space for a girl on her own, and in her mind she'd claimed it as hers.

The sun was high overhead by the time she reached the house. Cerrah quickly fixed lunch; more dried meat and some nuts she stashed in the cupboard. As she ate, she mulled over her future--wondering if she had one to start with, first. *They'll probably come after me soon. But until then, what do I do? Should I give myself up? What's the right thing to do?* She worried, wishing that the answers to her questions would come to her, but they didn't.

Frustrated, she finished the last of her meager lunch and decided to rest awhile before moving on. She poked her head out one of the heavily covered windows to gaze at the numbing tranquility of the waterfall. She was so engaged by it that she almost didn't sense the presence of a large group of people heading her way--the search party she'd just been thinking about, no doubt. Cerrah didn't take time to scan too deeply into the crowd, but she did sense a familiar presence, though now was not the best time for investigating. She grabbed her things and left, running as fast as she could toward the farthest, and least visited, of her shelters. She'd been hoping she wouldn't have to go back there, but if they were hunting her down, the only place she would be safe was the area surrounding the Scryth lake.

***

The river flowed past lazily, its calming gurgle ignored by the search party's leader, Darm Kipetk. He squinted from the glare of the noonday sun reflecting off the water ahead, trying to get a glimpse of what lay upriver. The rest of the twelve men fanned out from either side of the river, hoping to find some clue or trail that his daughter may have left behind. So far, however, the group had found nothing.

It wasn't long until he heard the roar of the waterfall in the distance, and decided that spot was as good as any to stop and regroup. He called out for the men to head toward the waterfall, and heard the echoing cries of his call taken up by the others.

Soon, the group was gathered at the cottage, reporting to the rest of the party what they had found. One of them was suspicious of some bushes with large amounts of berries missing from their branches, but the tracks he'd found were from many different animals, and it was hard to distinguish one from the others. Otherwise, no one had found anything suggesting that a young girl was living nearby.

Slightly dismayed, Darm and the rest decided to take a break to eat. Darm went into the house, looking for some more dry rations. As soon as he entered, he noticed that while it looked normal from the outside, the inside of the cottage was...different. The dust that should've been on the table in the kitchen was absent, and the air inside had the faint tinge of sweat and some sort of food smell, as if someone had eaten in there recently. He looked at the floor, and saw dirt--fresh dirt--scattered from the entryway to the kitchen. Had one of the men gone inside before he'd gotten there? He walked back outside and watched as the search group took food from the bags they'd brought with them, and sat down to eat by the waterfall.

He walked over to them, and tried to raise his voice over that of the waterfall. "Has anyone gone inside the cottage yet?" He yelled.

"What?" An older man close to him asked, narrowing his gaze.

"I said, has anyone been in the cottage yet?!" He yelled louder.

The men all looked at each other, a ragged assortment of middle-aged to elderly men, with a couple of younger men included. Some shook their head, while the others voiced their denial. Darm frowned, then went back, followed by Jeth Kol, who had joined Darm's party.

"What's wrong?" Jeth asked, when he caught up with Darm at the door of the house.

"Someone's been in there--recently." He emphasized the last word. "It could have been Cerrah."

Jeth's eyes widened. "Do you really think so?"

Darm smiled tightly, "Only one way to find out." He opened the door again and went inside, this time followed by Jeth. They scoured the inside, looking for any proof that she, specifically, had been there. They found the food supply severely depleted, and the bed slept in. The lack of dust indicated that someone had been inside, and had probably been living there for quite awhile.

"She was here." Darm finally surmised, after they had checked the house thoroughly. Nothing solid had been found, but Cerrah was the only one he knew of that would use this cabin.

"You're sure?" Jeth asked hesitantly. By now, the rest of the group had noticed the noise coming from the house and had come to investigate. They stood outside, waiting for Darm and Jeth.

"Yes. It took me awhile, but I recognize her handiwork in all this," his hand swept over the interior of the cottage. His spirits were at an all-time high, excited at finding some trace of his daughter. "And we're so close! She can't be more than a few hours ahead of us, at least."

"She might think we're hunting her down, you know," his friend mentioned ominously. "We don't want to chase her right into the arms of what we're trying to get her away from."

Darm nodded solemnly. "The Scryth."

***

The command center was deep in the core of the base, sheltered by the thick armor casings and the outer walls of the complex. It was built during the time when the Empire was prosperous and expanding, before the Rebel Alliance was formed and before the Empire had begun to abandon some of the less lucrative planets. Boraas Veid vividly remembered the times when he had enthusiastically served the Empire, following its doctrines to the letter and savoring the day when he would harvest his rewards. That day had never come, however, and the thought of ending his career sounded sweeter and sweeter every day.

He sat in a chair overlooking the main floor, figures of personnel moving silently and lethargically through the day. The only exciting area to be in was Maintenance, where the techs were working non-stop to get the transports and other miscellaneous items repaired and out to the troops waiting for them. The person normally in charge of over-seeing Maintenance was now in a holding cell, awaiting his punishment. Sloppiness was a well established fact for the Imperials here, but having equipment in such a state of disrepair was inexcusable. Unfortunately, being isolated from the Empire proper didn't help much either. It didn't matter how much they taxed the populace; Imperial credits were worthless on the open market, and so few traders and smugglers came their way. They had precious few items that weren't completely outdated or worn out, and the resources on the planet had long since dried out. It was a miracle that the Empire hadn't already been overthrown. The elderly commander sighed, *I wonder if it wouldn't be better if we just handed the keys over to the mayor and said, "It's all yours!"*

He rubbed his eyes, his vision starting to blur again. *I have to get down to the Med Center and get my eyes checked--in secret, of course. If Covell found out I visited a doctor, any doctor, he'd tally that up in his long list of reasons why I should be relieved of command.*

Veid stood up and walked slowly over to one of his aides, who was busy debriefing one of the tactical officers. "Have they found any sign of the other Rebel's ship yet, Haskins?" he asked, exasperated.

An anemic-looking man turned to face him, his weak eyes squinting in focus. His uniform nearly hung off his shoulders, and his cap concealed most of his bristle-cut brown hair. "No sign yet, Commander. We should find something soon."

"That's what you said yesterday! I could get more done by going out into the field and doing it myself," he muttered, frustrated with the whole process.

"Sir, there are still several thousand kilometers of canyon to be combed over. I'm sure it will be found. It's only a matter of time." The younger man's voice and demeanor was implacable, even in the face of wrath from his superior officer. It was one of the reasons Veid had chosen him.

"I wish I had your faith, Haskins. I've lived too long and seen too much to put much hope in anything."

The aide wisely said nothing. What had promised to be an event-filled day for not only the Commander, but also for the Imperial troops, had turned out to be less than they had hoped for. Naturally, the mood in the room had become more and more somber, until most of the enthusiasm had been nullified.

"How long until the transports are fixed?" Veid asked, hoping the answer wouldn't be too bad.

Haskins shook his head. "It's not looking good, sir. Every time the mechanics start to fix one problem, another crops up to replace the first. Obviously, the transports haven't been properly maintenanced, even though the Chief of Maintenance approved their checks." The young man leaned towards Veid and said, in a half-whisper, "It seems we have some serious corruption to take care of."

Veid looked at him in astonishment, then murmured back, "You don't know the half of it, Haskins." His gaze swept across the vast room, people moving from one area to the next in a pointless cycle. The expression on his face was morose. "You just don't know the half of it."

"Sir?" The aide replied, confused. He was too young to understand the way the system worked, was too naive about the workings going on under his own nose. The Commander longed to have that naivete again.

"I'll explain later. For now, I want you to contact Gheas and have them send transports out to get Covell's troops. Theirs aren't in much better shape than ours, but at least they'll run. I hope."

"Yessir."

"And," Veid added in afterthought, "send a bulletin out to the farmers in the area, stating that two suspected murderers have fled the authorities and are rumored to be heading for Gheas. No one should try to approach them, and should report any sightings to the nearest Imperial soldier or base. Make sure the description of the woman is included."

"Yes sir. Is that all?"

"Yes. I'm sure you can come up with a few embellishments. You're dismissed."

"Of course. I'll get right on it." Haskins saluted, and turned crisply towards Communications. The tactical officer was still standing there, waiting for orders.

"Why don't you just write out a report and leave it with Haskins? I'll get to it when I can."

"Yes, Commander," he barked out, then turned and left. Veid remained standing until the man was gone, then walked back to his chair and sat there for most of the day, answering the occasional inquiries, comments and concerns. And wondering the whole time was it must feel like to be Rebel being hunted down by Imperial forces.

***

Mara Jade and Luke Skywalker were experiencing that feeling right now, as they trekked through the last of the forest and into the surrounding prairie. In the distance, Mara could see the homesteads of farmers, and heard the weak sound of running farm equipment coming from the complex closest to them. The presence of the land, however, was overshadowed by that gnawing feeling of pursuit.

The river flowed past them to the left, and as they followed it, it grew wider and deeper--and visibly harder to cross. Along the horizon they spotted the town they were heading for, jutting up into the sky in contrast with the softly rolling hills surrounding it. On the other side--their side--of the river, there were ferries for crossing over to the town, probably set up for the farmers and the crops they had passed.

Soon enough, they were within sight of the small complex; not much more than a handful of buildings that had seen better days, and a dock for the boats. Luke's cloak was fastened around Mara's neck, with the hood drawn up to hide her red hair. Luke was already suppressing the people's curiosity--very similar to what Mara had seen before, but with much more polish; something that had taken years to perfect. He still had some qualms about altering the people's perceptions, but it was necessary in order to keep the guards from recognizing Mara, and none of their other ideas'd had the chance of successfully passing by the guards as this one did.

Luke could already feel the curiosity building in one of the people, and soon he saw which one of them it was. The man had a pair of macrobinoculars up to his eyes, getting a good look at them while Luke relied on his enhanced vision to sum up the complex and their watchman. The watchman wasn't concerned or alarmed at the strangers, just curious--a good sign, so far. This meant it would be easier to persuade the guards that they were nothing more than a visiting farm couple.

After another minute of walking, Luke decided they were close enough to the small dock to give a friendly wave to the watchman--as if he had just now seen the man in the distance. The man waved back, and started back into the cluster of buildings.

"What did you do that for?" Mara asked harshly, "We're supposed to be keeping a low profile, not shouting to everyone that we're here!"

"Crops may differ, but farm folk are the same wherever you go. If I hadn't waved to him, he might've thought I had something to hide." He started to smile. "And here I thought you knew everything there was to know about blending in!"

He couldn't see her face, but her mood had suddenly become sullen. "I never had much opportunity to hang around farmers...or much use, for that matter. Please accept my most humble apologies for not being perfect!" Her voice had a mocking tone.

Her response took him aback. What was all this about? "I was just ribbing you, Mara. Don't be so defensive."

This time she turned and looked directly at him. He had expected the mild anger and irritation in her eyes, but not the sadness and loneliness he also saw reflected there. "'Don't be so defensive?' I've lived most of my life on the defensive, farmer. This is the way I was trained to live, to be,..." she paused, trying to find the right word, "...I don't know, professional. Suspicious. Cautious. Maybe even impersonal." She stopped talking, and looked back towards the horizon. He thought she'd finished all she was going to say, until she suddenly blurted out, "I envy you, y'know."

"What for?" He wondered, truly curious now.

"You have a family, friends, a purpose in life. I don't have any of that."

"What about Karrde, and your employees? And Lando?"

Mara smirked at the list he'd made. "Karrde and I are 'business' friends. We talk about business, nothing else--and I doubt my employees see me as their friend. Lando...wasn't anyone important to me, at least not in the way it should be. It was more about business than anything." Her mood grew more somber.

"You know you're always welcome on Yavin IV," he offered.

"I know, and I've been thinking about it more and more lately. I'm still not sure though." A faint smile appeared on her face, "I noticed you didn't list yourself as one of my friends. So then, what am I to you?" She wore an amused expression, but her tone was deadly serious. It was more than an idle comment.

"I thought I was your friend. Aren't I?" He asked, half-joking, half-serious.

"I was hoping you were." She paused for a second, then continued. "Isn't it pathetic that you're my only friend in the whole galaxy?" She commented, trying to sound light-hearted, but not succeeding.

"I think you have more friends than you know," Luke replied, marveling at fully seeing a side of her that he'd only glimpsed before. She was craving a way of life that was the opposite of everything she had learned; Closeness, friendship, trust, love....

He tried to probe a little deeper, but she had put the walls up again. Not as impenetrable as before, and probably more out of reflex than anything. Behind those walls, however, there was a sensitive, caring person who wanted nothing more than to love and be loved. Until she took down her defenses, however, she wasn't going to be let out.

*Maybe someday,* Luke thought. He didn't get much more time to ponder over it, because they were already reaching the small outpost. He focused on blunting the people's curiosity and having them believe what he wanted them to believe.

"Hello there, strangers!" the watchman called out, a man closer to middle age than youth. He looked and acted more like someone who'd be tending to the fields rather than someone guarding an outpost. His blaster was holstered--a positive sign--and the rest of the guards and boatmen were hanging around, not very concerned about their visitors. "Going into town?"

"Yep. We're from the east. Hopefully, we'll be able to sell some land in the marketplace." Luke tried not to offer too much information, but he didn't want to appear secretive, either.

"You'll be needin' a boat then. Come with me." The watchman started off in the direction of the river, Luke and Mara right behind him. Mara stole a glance at Luke, but his concentration was focused solely on the man ahead and the surrounding people.

"Y'know, I don't think I've seen you before," the man essayed.

"I don't think I've seen you before, either," Luke replied back.

The guard chuckled, "Well, that's something we agree on! They've got us on the lookout for these two people, one's a woman and the other--well, it could be an alien, for all we know, but that's not likely--anyway, it seems they're murderers on the run, coming from the east." The tone in his voice sounded suspicious, despite Luke's efforts. "The woman's a redhead, and a looker too, according to the description."

They arrived shortly at the dock, a few boats waiting patiently there for them to come aboard. Their guard turned and looked directly at Mara. "If you wouldn't mind ma'am, I'd appreciate it if you'd pull the hood down."

Mara glanced at Luke, but his demeanor was calm and passive; if they were going to be discovered, it wasn't going to be here. She took the hood down, and to the eyes of the watchman and people nearby, she appeared to be a lovely woman with long brown hair and deep brown eyes. The man smiled, "I didn't think you were them, but I had to know for sure. Good luck!" With that, he went back to his post.

When he was out of earshot, Mara whispered to Luke, more than a trifle curious, "What did he see?"

"My sister," he replied offhandedly.

She grimaced. "Great. And what does he think you look like?" Her voice had a hint of sarcasm.

"Hopefully, he won't think I look like anyone in particular. I was trying to make myself appear as average as possible."

She threw a look over her shoulder, but everyone seemed to be ignoring them now. "It didn't seem like you were trying very hard, but it worked, anyway. Shall we go?"

"After you." He bowed slightly, and gestured in the direction of the nearest boat.

Soon they were fording across the river and heading directly into their next obstacle, a much bigger task than just shifting around someone's curiosity. This time, Luke was going to have to directly manipulate the guards' minds--a thought that gnawed at his conscience and had him thinking about that dark presence he'd sensed in the forest to the west, and wondering if he'd arrived too late.

***

The sun was already beginning its slow descent into the horizon by the time Cerrah reached her last hideout. Her mother had told her of it, but had forbade her from ever going near it, fearing that she might be consumed by the evil living nearby. It had been awhile since she'd been back this way, and the memories began to play back in her head. She squelched them, however; staying alive was more important than reminiscing.

To the untrained eye, the small hill she was heading for was nothing to look twice at. However, the shape it made was rather unusual, and was the only reason Cerrah had been able to find it in the first place. The overgrowth had already begun its slow creep over the entrance she'd cleared off, determined to obliterate any sign of the shelter. She took a second to check for any signs that might have indicated someone had discovered the place, but all she could find were the tracks of the local animal life. Satisfied, she went to the door and pushed away some of the growth, revealing a small, square control panel that shone dimly in the filtered light. It opened with some effort, and behind it lay a series of buttons and a display. She typed in the proper code her mother had told her, and the door popped open. She pushed it over enough to let herself through, the door's hinges straining the whole way.

The main computer no longer worked, but the manual systems and back-up computer did, making it easier for her to live in the buried spaceship. A light dust had settled on everything, making the interior that less inviting. She flipped on the lights, and heard the faint whir of the backup generators working, though how they had managed to survive thirty or so years without being used mystified her completely. From her experience in the humans' town, she was aware that little--if anything--worked properly on this planet.

Everything in the ship was just the way she had left it. Mud that she'd tracked in had dried to a fine powder and the various objects that had fascinated her before lay on the floor, forgotten. The interior of the ship looked more like a house, really, with console panels holding knickknacks and deactivated holo-pictures, and the occasional toy hidden behind a piece of crudely made furniture. It had all the ambience of a temporary shelter, turned into a permanent one.

Her eyes focused on the book lying on top of a makeshift desk, a tome she hadn't noticed the last time she was here. The writing on the cover was familiar, but incomprehensible; it was in Basic, but much more complex than anything she had learned to decipher while in the humans' town. Its cover was ornately gilded, with carefully worn-down edges and a spine in disrepair. Flipping through the pages revealed little else about the content of the book, except for the fact that all the words were handwritten--a shocking concept for even the most tradition-minded of humans. Obviously, whoever wrote in these pages didn't want anyone else to get a copy. The idea piqued her interest, but now was not the time to investigate old books. She put it aside, but made a mental note to take a better look at it later.

Her mother had lived here with her parents. Nila didn't like to talk about it, but when pressed, she would tell stories about her family and what her life was like--before the dark times fell. Fleeing for their lives, they had found this small planet...not yet inhabited by Imperial troops. Her family had made the ship their new home, and they were happy. For a while, at least.

Cerrah didn't know the exact details of what happened, but the fact that the Scryth was involved didn't need much explaining. Everyone knew what would happen if you got too close to the lake. She could feel the chill, now, even from a considerable distance. The reason why she hadn't come back to this place echoed in her brain. How could she be so foolish to come back here? The evil, taunting voices would be back, she was certain, and the impulses as well. Hopefully, she wouldn't have to stay that long. *In a few days I'll be able to leave*, she told herself repeatedly. *Just a few more days.*

And the Scryth laughed in delight.

***

He heard the whine of a repulsor-lift coming from the direction he and his men were heading. Lieutenant Covell lifted macro-binocs to his eyes, but it was unnecessary; several of the men were already pointing towards the horizon at the growing specks. In a minute or two, the transports would meet them and take them to Gheas, only a short ride through the farmland. Even though he was happy they were coming, he scowled at the thought of his troops being in this predicament in the first place. The fugitives would have been secured in an Imperial detention cell several hours ago if everything hadn't been so disorganized and sloppy.

An idea struck him just then; the commander was the one who oversaw the base and its neighboring garrisons...if he could just tie this into Veid somehow, making him look like the slovenly, unconcerned leader that Covell wanted everyone to believe, it would make his work that much easier. Suddenly the situation didn't seem so dire. Veid would take the fall for this fiasco, and Covell would come out clean, with his pursuit--and capture--of the Rebels capturing the troops' attention.

The transports set down not far from where he and his Stormtroopers had stopped. He shouted for everyone to hop aboard, and in a minute they were up and heading back towards the spaceport. He asked the transports' leader if there had been any news on the criminals, but when the leader barked a laugh and asked, "Which ones?", he began to seriously doubt whether anyone was taking this in hand.

"The fugitives from Yualpe," he clarified. "Have you heard anything?"

"Not as yet. It'd be hard for two strangers to not be noticed in this country, though. I'm sure one of the locals saw something, but they're not sure what it was they saw."

"I see." This wasn't going to make it any easier. "You've set up checkpoints and patrols, I assume?"

"Well...we've got a checkpoint set up outside the city's gates, and the civilians have an outpost on the opposite side of the river. The patrols left early this morning, searching the road to Yualpe and the area around it, but we didn't find any sign of them."

Covell wanted to throttle the man. "You didn't check along the river, to the north?" He asked angrily.

The leader barely stuttered out a negative. "We were told that the Rebels were coming from Yualpe! The Moras River comes out of the mountains. Why would they be there?"

"They escaped by way of the mountains! Didn't anyone tell you that?!"

The man was stunned. "No. No one told me."

"Then they must be all the way to Gheas by now. No matter," Covell waved his hand dismissively. "The guards there will surely catch them.

"And if they don't, then I *will*."

Chapter 4

The afternoon sun peeked ever so often through the treetops, its light dotting the path before the search party. Darm Kipetk and the other men were following the trail left by his daughter, Cerrah, with hopes that she wasn't too far ahead.

Jeth Kol looked up, past the leaves and branches to the sun and its position. He grimaced, then called for all the men to halt. Darm turned toward his friend, mild annoyance reflected on his face.

"What's the meaning of this, Jeth? We can't afford to wait any time, not when she's so close to being found!"

Jeth took a deep breath. This wouldn't be easy, but facts were facts. Hopefully, Darm would be able to see that. "We have to start back now, if we want to get back to the village before it gets too dark." Darm started to raise his voice in argument, but Jeth cut him off, "Look, in order to track her, we're going to need more supplies and weapons than we have now, plus--" he added carefully, "we're going to need your wife."

"Nila? Why?"

"Jedi can sense other Jedi, can't they? Obviously Cerrah thinks we're hunting her down, or else she wouldn't be running away. If she could sense her mother in the party, I think she'd want to find out why, at least." He caught Darm's hesitance; not surprising, considering how close they'd come. But if Jeth could see the logic in it, so could Darm.

"All right. Let's go," Darm said, gesturing back the way they'd come. As the men started back, he caught up to Jeth and said under his breath, "I just hope you're right about this."

Jeth's face tightened with concern. "So do I."

***

The walls of the small town rose in front of Luke and Mara, a dull pale ochre Plexisteel face that towered 10 meters above the river. The surrounding area was mostly farmland, but with a denser population nearer to the town. The entrance was only a short distance in front of them, a half-elliptical portal barred only by a handful of Stormtroopers. Most of the people going through the entrance were leaving, but Luke could see a merchant being checked out by one of the soldiers, who was going through the man's identification. *This might be a little trickier than I thought,* he worried. The only identification both of them had was their New Republic ID's--not the sort of thing you wanted to show to an Imperial agent. He knew he could get through it easily enough, but he continued to worry about the consequences if their plan should fail.

Mara tightened her grip on his hand as they came up to the gateway. "All set?" she whispered. He nodded an affirmative, and she seemed to relax, ready to play her part.

The four soldiers were standing in place listlessly, tired of their duty already. The one who'd cleared the previous citizen now stood in a defensive stance, "Going into town?" he asked.

"Yes. We were planning on selling some of our land, and then staying overnight."

"I see. And your identification...?" he prompted, holding out his hand.

Luke took a deep breath. "You won't need to see our identification," he said calmly.

After a slight pause, the stormtrooper replied, "We don't need to see their identification." The rest showed no reaction.

"We can move on."

"You can move on," the soldier mimicked, waving them through. The other soldiers looked just the same as before. As far as they were concerned, this had been a routine check with no hassles.

They walked on a bit more, before stopping to see if anyone was curious or suspicious, but they didn't find anything. "Can I breathe now?" Mara asked wryly. "I was sure it was going to be harder than that."

"Easy for *you*, maybe," Luke retorted, nervous sweat running down the side of his face. "I know it wasn't easy for *me*."

"For a powerful Jedi Master like you?" She smiled, "I'm sure you could've had them not even see us."

"It's not that. It's just...." He furrowed his brow, "...I don't take manipulating minds lightly. I can't afford to. I don't want to turn into Joruus C'baoth, or the Emperor--convinced that what I'm doing is perfectly acceptable, and ignoring the effects it has on me, and the ones I'm manipulating."

Mara mulled that over. "I think I understand. The actions we take also reflect back on us, so if we do something that crosses the line from good to the Dark Side, then that evil will effect us back?"

"That's what I'm assuming. Although there's a good chance I'm wrong about that. It's frustrating. I feel like I've got pieces to a puzzle, and I can only make a couple of them fit together."

"You have enough pieces for now, at least. Besides, what's the fun in knowing everything when you need to know it? I've had to learn a lot of hard lessons without the help of some ancient tomes telling me how to solve my problems."

"True enough," he smiled. He turned to look ahead of him, taking in the atmosphere of the marketplace. It was relatively clean, compared to some of the run-down areas he'd been in. All the signs were in Basic, but appeared to be a simplified form, using only the easiest words possible and ofttimes formed incorrectly. All the items for sale in the marketplace seemed common enough...until he realized that the food being sold was the exact same thing they had walked past yesterday and today in the fields. There was nothing particularly exotic or foreign about anything.

"Mara," Luke said, trying to catch her attention.

"Hmm? What?"

"Did you notice anything different about what the vendors are selling?"

She looked around and shrugged. "Seems normal to me." She continued to look, when suddenly a frown crossed her face and she said, "A little *too* normal. Is that what you're talking about?"

"Yes. These people must be isolated from the normal trade routes." A concerned look crossed his face. "I know the trader I talked to said that *this* was the town the child was in."

"Traders usually frequent the same bars in a town or city," she said knowingly. "If we can find theirs, we'll probably be in the same bar that the kid was performing in."

"It's worth a try, at least." He looked up at the sky, which was deepening in color already, as the light continued to fade into the west. "I think, though, that we'd better find a place to stay before we go bar-hopping."

"Agreed."

Finding a place to stay wasn't too hard; most of the hotels were clearly labeled and fiercely competitive with their prices. However, how they were going to pay was a problem. Did these people use Imperial credits only, or did they have an entirely different system? Mara had some of the new Imperial credits, and they decided to chance it and ask if they could the coins as payment. Luckily for them, the innkeeper accepted the money, though he was hesitant about it. He eyed them warily as he held the coin in his hand, asking how they'd managed to get their hands on this kind of money.

"We traded some of our wares for some spices. Unfortunately, this was all he had to pay the difference with." Mara lied smoothly.

The thin man took a good look at her, trying to tell if she was speaking the truth or not. "And what were these wares, madam?"

"Mostly fabric, woven by myself. We also had some metalwork and antique jewelry that we had to part with. Spices are more profitable than fabric, you know," she confided, playing the role enthusiastically.

The innkeeper nodded sagely, "Yes, yes, that's true." He smiled then, content with the story and ready to continue on with their business. "I assume you'll be wanting a single room, then?"

Mara nearly started, but Luke quickly jumped in, covering over her reaction. "We'd like adjoining rooms, if you can manage it."

"Of course." The thin man smiled again, weaker this time. The bill was figured out and paid, and the two of them went up to their rooms.

The rooms were standard, but comfortable enough. The communicational system was several years old, maybe even decades old, and the decor had been fashionable once, but its era was long past now. His window, like Mara's, faced out into the street, only a story below them. Luke opened the door between their rooms, and noticed Mara fiddling with a panel below her window while an annoying, buzzing sound reached his ears. "What *is* that?" He asked out loud.

"Lovely, isn't it? I think it's coming from this panel." She turned a knob, and the sound transformed itself into a shrill whistle. "Yeah, it's coming from here all right," she grimaced, turning it back the other way.

"Looks like the temperature controls to the room. We should call the manager and have him fix it," Luke offered.

She stood up, and gave a stern glare to the offending machinery. "I've got a better idea," she bent over and twisted the knob back the other way until she heard a click, and the sound seemed to sigh as it died away. She smiled at the presence of silence. "Problem solved!" She announced triumphantly.

"Turning it off won't keep the room warm," Luke reasoned.

"True, but it will keep my sanity. Are you ready to go?" She asked as she fastened the cloak back around her neck.

"More than ready," he replied, already walking to the door. "The sooner we find this Force-sensitive child, the better."

Mara nodded in agreement, and followed him out the door, into the approaching twilight and the town's seedy nightlife.

***

The sun was beginning to set by the time Lieutenant Covell arrived at Gheas. He was frustrated by the incompetence of his soldiers, and the fact that his quarry had eluded him so far. When he reported in to the town's commanding officer, he found that the guards posted at the east and west entrances hadn't discovered any redheaded females without identification--or anyone else suspicious, either. He asked to see the surveillance video of both the entrances, confident that he'd find something. The commanding officer didn't feel the same way, however.

"I can't possibly fathom how looking at surveillance footage is going to find these criminals!" The lieutenant commander questioned, his face already deepening in color.

Covell's patience was wearing thin. He'd listened to this blathering fool for twenty minutes now, and every minute wasted was another minute that the Rebels gained. Yelling at this pompous idiot wouldn't get him any closer to the video copy. "Farrst, all I want is the footage. If you don't give it to me, I'll have you arrested for impeding an Imperial investigation authorized by Commander Veid himself." He tried not to smirk. He wanted this fool to sweat a little.

Farrst squinted at him, "Veid, hmm? Well, if you're determined to waste your time watching surveillance tapes, I guess I can't stop you," the man relented.

Thirty minutes later, he was still scanning through the video footage, trying to find something worthwhile. He started to think that maybe he'd been wrong, when one of the peasants caught his eye. A woman, he'd hazard a guess, wearing a black cloak escorted by a man in his thirties or so, thin, with blond hair. He couldn't see her face because of the hood, and almost thought to dismiss it, until he noticed that the trooper hadn't taken any identification. He'd just waved them on, and no one else seemed concerned in the least. He checked the registration report and saw that they hadn't been registered at all. It had to be them...but how had they gotten through? He pondered over this for a minute, and then a horrible possibility reared its head. The outlaws had lightsabers, and had somehow gotten past the guards without any violence, which led to his next thought....

Mind manipulation.

*They're Jedi, even though all the Jedi are supposed to have been eradicated. Well,* he thought, amused, *I guess it's up to me to finish the job.* They might have mystical powers on their side, but they were on his turf, playing his odds. As far as he was concerned, they'd just walked into his hands.

***

The dim light coming through the trees gave an anemic pallor to the foliage around the buried ship, dampening Cerrah's spirits even further. Night was about to fall, and she knew that tonight she would not be having blissful dreams.

She ate a short meal scrounged from what she could find in the forest and what she had left in her pack. Food was running low again, meaning she'd have to find somewhere else to stay soon. For the moment she was alright, but she was glad to know that she'd have to leave this place eventually.

The soft bed was a welcome sight after spending several days at a time on cold hard ground. Cerrah was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Suddenly she was standing next to the lake, wearing a nice clean dress she would've worn when she lived in the village. It wasn't either night or day, but rather an inbetween haze that signalled to her vaguely that this was a dream; She ignored the warning. The surface of the lake was deathly still, mirroring the gnarled trees facing her on the opposite shore. She knew she shouldn't be here, but all thoughts of the outside world were fleeting and intangible.

A cold blue light appeared over the lake, and she instantly knew what it was. *The Scryth,* Cerrah thought ominously, having briefly encountered this being before, if one could call it that.

-You have come back to us,- the Scryth whispered joyfully in her mind, sending a chill down her spine. -We have been waiting for you.-

The sound of its voice horrified her again, like it did many months ago when she had first encountered it. It sounded like several people talking at once, both male and female, in a way that had made her wonder if the Scryth were actually a "they" rather than an "it". Asking which it might be sounded like a good idea to her.

"What are you? Are you one creature, or several?" She heard herself ask shakily.

-We are several. But, we are not creatures. We were alive once,- the Scryth answered sorrowfully, the word "once" echoing in her head. The sorrow was meant to evoke her sympathy, but she wasn't falling for it. "Why aren't you dead?" I