(Summary for Chapter Four—the Conclusion: Vaiya returns home to find her mother, Mara, in a quite upsetting state. Larin has left her, and winds up running into Cal Saphringer, who “convinces” Larin to return to his former position as his aide. As Vaiya gains more knowledge of her new religion and begins to grow, new threats begin to show themselves. An ancient sith cult, the Cult of the Destroyer, seeks to use her as a mother for their child, who is foretold to be their Destroyer himself. But if she does not willingly accept her role, she will die. The cult leader finds that he has a strange connection with Vaiya—and she with him. In the heat of battle, the strangest things can happen.....
Same disclaimers and spoilers apply (see part one)
Timeline: about 20 years after Visions of the Future.

MOSAIC—CHAPTER FOUR: THE GRACE OF ETERNITY
1--Black Magic Man
Larin didn’t know too much about space travel. What he did know had only come from his time with Cal Saphringer. And Saphringer hadn’t exactly been trying to teach him about space travel.  All Saphringer had cared about was letting Larin get his revenge against the people who had murdered his parents. The only thing that really stuck in Larin’s mind as odd was the fact that Saphringer had never demanded any sort of payment. As if the fact that the mission was for blood was payment enough for him.
Now, as he sat in third class steerage on board some kind of cruiser, heading for some planet called Naboo, a lot of things were seemingly odd about Cal Saphringer.
Of course, Saphringer was not Larin’s first choice on his list of things to think about. For the moment, however, he happened to be the clearest thing. Maybe that was the Psyenergy prodding him. Vaiya had told him many things about Cal, all of which were disturbing but none of which were surprising. He had been Vaiya’s mother’s---Mara Skywalker’s---lover for a considerable time before she had returned to mainstream society as a smuggler, working for Talon Karrde, probably the only other name in the galaxy Larin was familiar with.  Then, he’d returned when Vaiya was a child, and something had happened---even Vaiya didn’t know the details. She just knew that he had found a solid place on the wrong side of her parents’ feelings.  And then, mysteriously, he’d shown up again, a good 13 years later, posing as his own son, Jaid Saphringer, with the youth to prove it— even though physics demanded that he look like a 50-odd year old man.
How he had done that they just couldn’t figure. But before they could ask him, he’d done his damage and taken off. But not before Vaiya discovered him and took off on her own.
Which was where she had come into his life.
He sighed as he pulled himself to his feet. The cruiser had
landed, and it would probably be a good idea to get as ready as possible. Besides, the thought of Saphringer was pressing on his mind, like the man was waiting for him out on the dock. He knew they weren’t at Naboo—they hadn’t been on the ship long enough, he didn’t care how fast hyperspace was. In fact, he was pretty sure they hadn’t even gone into hyperspace. So what was the deal? They were docked somewhere—maybe some bigger ship had captured them.  Funny, no warning lights had gone off.
Also funny...no one else was moving.
He picked his away around the many lifeforms that littered the
floor. They were pathetic, these wretches. Larin felt sorry for many of them, seeing how young and small some of them were. He passed by what looked like an old woman with long blue tentacles dangling from her head, holding a little boy that was almost a miniature of her.  He bent over to put some credits in her lap, but a sudden surge of fear stopped him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a dozen greedy eyes gleaming out at him. He withdrew his balled fist, but not without his own surge of anger.
For maybe the first time in his life, he was glad that his planet had banished Offworlders. If this was the usual lot, Durran was better off without them. But that didn’t really concern Larin much anymore, since he, too, was banished.
Without even a last name.
The door slid open about twenty feet ahead of him, off to the
right side of the cargo bay so that Larin could only barely make out what lay beyond. He knew he saw cold grey metal—not much else.
Still, no one in the bay was moving.
Larin moved down the short corridor to the exit ramp. He saw
that they had been taken into some huge landing bay, some kind of supercruiser that could hold smaller cruisers. There were people all around, none of them looking like respectable types.
He slowly made his way down the ramp. There was no one from inside the ship posted at the exit, no one making any effort to follow him. In fact, as his feet touched the landing bay floor, the ramp immediately retracted, the hatch sealed, and the ship lifted up again.
As if the only reason it had landed was to drop him off.
For a moment, Larin could only stare. But that moment passed
quickly under the knowledge that Cal Saphringer was standing right behind him.
He looked younger than Larin remembered. He was grinning from ear to ear, his bright white teeth practically shining. By appearances, he was barely Larin’s age, and oozed of charm and grace. His dark hair and eyes were perfect bait for those unsuspecting types—male and female alike.
Larin counted himself lucky he’d known Saphringer a bit.
Maybe if he was less prepared he would be a lot worse off right now.  Saphringer hadn’t really done anything to him, not directly. He had helped him, however, during a very dark time in Larin’s life, so that may mean that Larin owed him a debt.
“What, I don’t even get a chance to speak and you’re already suspicious of me?” Cal said, extending his hand to Larin, who took it.  He fought back a brief flash of embarrassment, his own grimy hand in Cal’s elegantly black-gloved one.
“Good to see you, Saphringer,” Larin said in his most polite voice, using the last name as an honorific. If anyone who knew him from his life on Durran, they would have accused him of blasphemy, since his own last name had been stripped from him. But Cal....Cal had insisted that Larin call him that.
“You too. Boy, you’ve grown up a little bit, haven’t you?” Cal slapped him lightly on the shoulder, a guesture which mean to make Larin fall in beside him as he turned back toward his own ship, a big, sleek, gleaming ship the color of liquid silver.
“Not so much, not really,” Larin replied, keeping his voice even and low, but falling in step beside Cal anyway. After all, his own ship was gone....”What about you? You look...younger than ever.”
The big white grin returned. “You don’t miss anything, do you?” Then he laughed. “Yes, I guess I couldn’t expect my little charade to last forever. I mean, when you’re in my kind of business, people look at youth and think they can cheat you. I originally wanted everyone to think that I was my own descendant, but that has turned out to be the last thing that works for me.”
“So what are you doing out here?” Larin asked. “I mean, I thought your hangout was by Durran. I thought they were paying you to watch their territory—unoffically, of course.”
Cal shrugged. “All that flying in and flying out that little Skywalker spawn did kind of get my fired. But I take losses very well.”
“Apparently.”
Cal glanced over at him. “You’ve gotten stronger since last
time, Larin. I can’t read you like I used to. And I don’t ever admit to that. But you know, you still have so much potential.”
“As what, a heavy for you?”
“You have to admit that you play the part well.”
Larin shuddered. “No thanks. My days as a killer are done.”
“Does Vaiya know that?”
Larin stopped in his tracks. Cal got a few steps ahead of him
before he finally turned around, the expression on his face serenely calm, almost innocent. “What?” he asked.
“Maybe you could tell me,” Larin said, his even tone more of a struggle now.
Cal shrugged. “Come on, son. I’m not stupid. I know all about everything that’s gone on over the last week or so. I know that you left Durran with Vaiya—how else would you have gotten here from Coruscant? I imagine that she probably took a liking to you—she hovers around your thoughts, no matter what you’re thinking about.  You probably haven’t really noticed it.” The dark eyes narrowed. “But yet you left. Do you know why?”
Larin could only stare at him.
“Because I called you.” He started to smile. “I called you,
Larin. You knew your path with me wasn’t finished. You’ve been thinking about me since your ship came into range. You’ve been thinking about how much you owe me, how I had never asked for anything when I helped you fulfill your need for vengence.”
“I...” It was getting a little hard to think. “I’ve given all that up, Saphringer. I paid my debt when my people cast me out.”
“Not to me.” Cal’s grin was almost gentle, paternal. “You know it and I know it. Even if you’ve given up the synthol you still have to pay the tab.” He slapped Larin’s shoulder again. “You should be so lucky that you fell in with me. Most other smugglers would have killed you the second they saw you again. But not me, no. I believe in second chances. And I believe that you have a lot of potential.”
Larin resisted the urge to step back. “What’s going on, Saphringer?” he murmured. “Why a sudden interest in me? Are you just trying to get to Vaiya and her family again?”
Cal snorted. “It would be all too easy to get to them now, wouldn’t it? What with the delightful little drama taking place there.” He grinned, as if seeing it. “Alas, I would love to take part. In fact, it may almost be worth my while to finaggle my way down there. With the state that Mara is in, it wouldn’t take much to convince her that it was all a ‘rebel ploy’ and that she had ‘married’ Skywalker and produced an heir for him out of some ultimate scheme for revenge.  When the time was right, I’d even convince her to kill Vaiya right before Skywalker’s eyes. How satisfying would that be for me, eh?” The gleam that accompanied the words made Larin wince.
“That’s monstrous,” he whispered.
“Ah, yes. That’s why I’m probably not going to go through the
trouble of doing it. If I have something else to occupy me.” Cal’s eyes focused on Larin. “What say you? Are you willing to sacrifice yourself to save them?”
Larin wanted to be suspicious. He could tell by the way his mind kept resisting the sudden urge he had to follow Cal into his ship.  Cal was backing away now, as if knowing that Larin would follow.  Cal knew what Larin was going to do. He could feel Cal in his head, touching every weakness he had.
*Protect Vaiya. Protect Vaiya’s mother....you know you’ve
sold your soul already, boy. Your last name was only a formality.*
He felt very tired. Maybe Cal had a nice place to lay down on board that big, beautiful ship........

2--Heart of Jade
Vaiya Jade Skywalker was fighting off despair. She couldn’t give up, not in her heart. Mara was her mother, whether she liked it or not. The fact that she didn’t like it was what hurt so much. That woman in her medical quarters, with the firey red hair and emerald green eyes, that was not a woman that Vaiya would want as a mother.  She was hateful and spiteful and deadly in her every breath. She was a slave to her anger but denied it like a yowling hellcat.
Not too far away, her father, Jedi Master Luke Skywalker, paced the room slowly. Every once in a while, he would check his comlink. Vaiya’s own self-pity was overshadowed only by pity for him. He had stoutly refused to accept Vaiya’s retelling of Mara’s words---
I don’t want to remember.
Now he spent his time making sure that Cal Saphringer wasn’t going to show up unexpectedly. “That would be just the sort of thing for the man to do,” Luke had said when their vigil had just begun.  “Come in here and try to convince her that she had married me only to destroy me, maybe even have her kill you, too.”
“He can’t get past security,” Vaiya said in a shallow echo of a voice. She was hunched up against the transparisteel windows in the medlounge, her cloak pulled around her tightly, her forehead resting against the window. She meant to be reassuring, but it was really pointless. No matter how true it was, he would still worry.
If he didn’t worry, the poor man might go insane.
At her words, Luke whirled on her. “You might be doing
something more constructive than sitting there,” he barked. “I told you what you needed to do. Why haven’t you done it?”
Running through a technique intended to give her patience (along with a quick prayer) Vaiya rehearsed her answer. “I can do nothing for her until she accepts me, Father.” She sighed, then said what she should never have dared. “You realize that this might be impossible, don’t you? That she may remain like this forever? That you may have to accept it and carry it for the rest of your life?”
“Don’t tell me what I’m supposed to accept,” Luke snarled at her, causing Vaiya to jump to her feet, matching him in the infamous Skywalker anger. “Why do you think you are!?” he railed.
“I know who you are, Master Skywalker! You are the first of a generation of Jedi Knights, savior of the galaxy and hope of the Jedi to come! No one bestowed the honor of Master upon you. You had to claim it for yourself! With that came the responsibility! You had many happy years with your wife, and you have a child to carry your work on after you’re done! But you’re forgetting the Jedi creed, Father....not our will, but the will of the Force.”
She stopped, remembering what Valeris had told her. Not the Force, but what Created the Force....she couldn’t bring that up now.  Her father was already slipping in his faith in the Force. No sense springing that stuff onto him now.
Luke pulled back, looking very old in the dim light. His shoulders slumped slightly, and he said, very softly, “Then perhaps I need to step down.”
Vaiya practically ran to him. “Don’t say that, Father. You’re
strong---“
“Even strength has limits.” He shut his eyes, and Vaiya could sense his effort to keep himself together. “I lost my father and my mother before I even knew them. I lost my aunt and uncle, I lost Ben.  I’m tired of losing people. If I lose Mara....it will break me.”
“And then what, the dark side? Oh, yeah, that’s a good solution.”
Luke practically laughed, but it came out more like a pathetic sputter. “The dark side isn’t all hatred and anger. It’s despair, also.”
“Don’t despair, Father. You still have me.”
Luke looked up, as if seeing her for the first time.
“You....you’re a grown woman now, even though you’re still barely 16. I don’t know what you saw, or where you went, but it changed you. I can see it. You’re a Jedi Knight, and you have your own destiny to fulfill. You will leave us as surely as anything. Perhaps you’ll find your friend again...I know your feelings for him are strong. But my path was with your mother. Without her.....”
“I am no Jedi Knight, Father,” Vaiya said, her own voice threatening to crack. “I lack courage. I run from problems rather than face them.”
“You do better than I did. I ran head-first into my own sorrows.” He clenched his mechanical hand. “But I guess extremes of any sort is bad.”
“We just have to keep praying,” Vaiya whispered, as if to assure herself. She shut her eyes and tried to think of Valeris, of what he would tell her. There had to be a purpose for this...her newfound faith could not be so tested without some sign that she was---
Just then the doors to the lounge opened, and Mara’s doctor stepped through. He walked over to Vaiya. “She is requesting to speak to you,” he said.
Luke straightened. “She wants to see you, Vaiya,” he said.
“That can only be a good thing.”
“I hope so,” Vaiya whispered. “Did she say why, Doctor?”
“You’re her daughter. She didn’t have to.” He turned and Vaiya
followed him from the lounge into Mara’s room. Before the doors slid closed behind her, Vaiya turned and looked at her father.
All of the hope of the universe rested in that gaze. Her parents had given her life and breath, and no child in all of history had ever been able to pay back such a debt.
Vaiya knew she would be the first.
3--Humility
Mara was sitting on the floor, her legs folded up under her. As Vaiya entered the room, she looked up, and for a moment Vaiya saw her mother again, and her heart started to pound.
“Yes?” Vaiya said, her voice timid whether she willed it so or not.
“How long are they going to keep me here?” Mara asked calmly.
Vaiya shrugged. “They seem to think that you’ll get your memory back naturally.”
Mara’s lip curled into a grin. “Nice try. They think I’m dangerous. Because the Mara you knew had a lot of information about this ‘New Republic’ and you think that I may know it too, therefore I can’t leave while my loyalties are in question.” She paused and sighed. “How bad do you think it will be? Will they have to execute me?”
“Father would never allow that,” Vaiya said before she could stop the words.
For a moment, Mara’s eyes seemed to cloud over, as if she were seeing things only she could see. “Yes...Skywalker. He hasn’t been around here much. I began to wonder if the injury inflicted upon my brain had actually been some sort of implant the rebels put in me, because Skywalker has barely been here three times. If he’s such a devoted husband and father, why isn’t he here, trying to ‘get me back?’”
“For the same reasons you asked me to come here instead of him,” Vaiya replied, as if it were not herself speaking but some voice from within her. “Because you don’t want to see him. It just brings him pain. And because all of this is the truth and you know it.”
“Maybe I do want to see him,” Mara whispered.
“Why? To yell and scream and throw things at him again?”
Okay, now she was getting angry. She couldn’t continue down this course. She had to decide between keeping everything peaceful and reaching down and strangling her mother right then and there.
“You know,” Mara said, still in that dreamy voice, “I was thinking about faking it a little while ago. Pretending to remember everything....then sticking a knife in his back when he wasn’t looking.  But for some reason, I couldn’t do it. I mean, I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. It just isn’t like me. But the things I’ve been thinking and feeling aren’t me, either, so I figured, what the hell? Go with the flow, Mara. The flow usually knows it own way out.” She took a deep breath. “I tried to tell myself at first that I didn’t do that because Skywalker would see right through me. I hear he’s a Jedi Master now, and while I don’t give much credit to Jedi of any sort, I wouldn’t want to test my life against my disbelief. But all of that is bantha fooder. In the end, I just plain couldn’t do it. And you,” she turned her head back to Vaiya, her eyes searching her up and down. “I know who you are. I don’t know how you came to be, I don’t even know if it was me who carried you, what with medicine nowadays.  But you are blood of my blood, and I live by my loyalty. Family....has always come first.”
Mara’s brow contorted for a moment, as if the mere act of thinking brought her pain. Something about the word family.....
“So you accept me as your daughter?” Vaiya tried.
“I accept that you are. And you don’t seem to be like the rest
of them. They all come in here and look at me like some rimworld freak.  Or like they’re scared of me. I think I would have enjoyed that, under other circumstances. But I’ve been doing some research. I managed to secure myself a clean line to your holonet, just to make sure no one is giving me false information. It wasn’t easy, but I was trained to break into anything. And I discovered all this New Republic stuff was true, and that Palpatine has been dead for over thirty years.” She stretched out her arms, which, in spite of the fact that she was in her 50’s, were in excellent shape. “Plus there is this to consider. I mean, I may look none the worse for wear, but I have been worn. So you see, Vaiya,” she sighed, “I simply have no choice but to adapt to my new surroundings.”
Vaiya knelt down before her mother, their knees a mere two feet apart. “But you knew all of this before,” she said, putting more conviction in her voice. “You told me that you knew that there were things missing, that we were all telling you the truth. But you said you didn’t want to remember.”
Mara shrugged. “Sometimes we have to take what we don’t really want.”
Vaiya frowned. “But you can’t expect me to just get up and show you back to your quarters,” she said. “I mean, you don’t want to go back to my father—you can’t stand him! What makes you think you can even do this?”
Mara’s head dipped slightly. The proud, haughty exterior was starting to crumble. “I always do what I have to,” she said.
Vaiya’s frown was now a full-blown scowl. “I don’t believe you, Mother. I’m starting to get a really terrible feeling that this is all still one of your scams to get out of here. You think I don’t know you, but you used to tell me stories about your days as the Emperor’s Hand, even right after the Emperor was killed and you had to escape from the palace because Isard was after you. I know how you manipulated people. I won’t be one of them.”
She stood up to go. She was making an awfully big gamble, but if Mara’s heart was still there, buried under all that anger, then this might be the only thing to get it to start beating again.
“Wait!” Mara called, scrambling to her feet. Vaiya felt a rush of emotion from her, and paused just long enough to look at her over her shoulder. Mara almost looked embarrassed.
“Look, would you just give me a break!” she said, flustered.
“Stars....you have to be my daughter. Suspicion lives in your blood.”
“So does hope,” Vaiya countered.
Mara took a deep breath and nodded. “I know. But even
though I’ve been trying to get out of here, everything I’ve told you is the truth. I learned early that sometimes telling the truth made the best lie. It’s usually so odd, no one believes it. But I was telling you the truth. I swear it.”
The sincerity on her face made Vaiya turn. Now she was getting somewhere. “But you also told the truth when you said you didn’t want to remember.”
Mara shook her head. “No, I don’t. I mean, look at it from my perspective. All I’ve known is this, who I am now. You’re asking me to destroy it so some stranger can take its place. I don’t care if I’ve only been here a few days, weeks, months, I don’t even know how long it’s been. But this is it.” She snorted. “What’s really bugging me the most is that I feel like I’m still not me, that I keep doing and saying things, like all I’m saying right now, this baring-of-the-soul wampa dung, is not something I would ever say. And I’m just not ready to welcome back in all these things that are scaring me to death right now.”
“But you know that they are truly you,” Vaiya murmured. “I can sense it. Even now, you know that I can help you get these things back.”
“Yes, I know that you can. I don’t know how I know, but I do.
Maybe that’s why I’m so scared of you, but I never let that intimidate
me before. Maybe other under circumstances I would have done
something like this on a dare, but this is too serious. I can’t make light
of it anymore.” Mara’s gaze clouded over briefly as she took Vaiya in
again. In the cloak and black pantsuit, she looked like her father
again. Her father....
“Plus Skywalker is so much less than what I pictured him to be. I mean, I had this real terrible vision of him as some dark and twisted Jedi. He’s more of just a lovesick puppy.” She grinned to herself. “At least I get that much revenge.”
“That’s all you’ve seen of him because you’re afraid to see anything else.” The words were a calm statement, not an accusation.
“Yes.” Mara almost squirmed. “Whatever other arguments we go into, one thing remains. I know that this isn’t how I’m supposed to be. I hate that fact, and I would love to continue throwing tantrums before finally escaping and going out to wreck some havoc across the galaxy, but the fact is, it isn’t going to happen.”
“So resignation is your only hope, then?” Vaiya whispered.
“Perhaps.”
“Why don’t you take until dawn to meditate on it, then,” Vaiya
suggested. “I won’t be going anywhere. When the sun rises, send for me. Whatever you decide then will be your fate.”
“Fine,” Mara murmured, her thoughts away at that moment.  “Give me some time to get my thoughts together.” She gave a dry chuckle. “They may be my last ones.”
4--Promises
Her father practically jumped on her when she exited the hospital room. But all it took from Vaiya was one long, tired look, and Luke backed away.
“In the morning,” Vaiya assured him. “In the morning, it will all be decided. I need to rest.” She continued out the lounge, but Luke stayed with her.
“I don’t know how you can be so calm,” he whispered. “I can’t even get myself focused enough to meditate.”
Vaiya looked at him over her shoulder. She knew that she had told herself that she would wait to share with him all the things she’d learned, but there were at least five or so hours of the night left and her father seemed to need something. He was so mentally drained, he would not be prepared for the morning’s events if he did not regenerate himself. With a small smile, she turned and headed into a nearby conference room. There was a table in the middle with grandly ornated chairs, but towards the heel of the room were a few small couches that faced each other. Vaiya made herself comfortable, and her father followed her example.
“There’s much I wanted to tell you, Father,” she said, trying to keep the eagerness out of her face but unable to help it. “So many things happened to me.”
“I can see that, although you were hardly gone two weeks.”
“You know how fast people can grow up,” she said, “if the
right things happen.”
Mara lay on her bed, wishing she could not think, for once in her life. The very effort made her sick. But the thoughts whirled on endlessly, the whispering voices told her that she didn’t have to be afraid, that they were there with her, than allowing Vaiya to retrieve her memories would only bring her joy.
Phooey.
It took nearly an hour, but Mara managed to force her mind
into a slow, silent pattern. Everything slipped away, even the room around her. A few mental steps farther, and she was in a trance.
How in the sith had she learned to do that? Oh, yeah, the Mara she had been was a Jedi Knight. Well, it explained some things, and it proved to Mara that Knighthood largely depended on if you believed in it. She knew she couldn’t do some of the things that the other Mara could do. If she could, she would be out of here already.
Instead, the very effort kept her here. Because instead of finding this other Mara’s Jedi powers, she found the other Mara’s feelings. The feelings about Vaiya, the feelings about Skywalker, the knowledge of things she had said to Vaiya in spite of  all of her old instincts to always keep her mouth shut. Sometimes the truth did make the best lie, but Vaiya had still seen right through it. They all knew her, and she didn’t even know herself.
But what was really standing in her way?
With all other thoughts cleared out, Mara was able to focus on
this one question. All she wanted was some sort of sign, something to focus her concern on. All this scattered anxiety was just too much to handle.
One word....Skywalker.
She pondered him, what little there was to ponder. The look
on his face when she had first opened her eyes, the immense relief there. And then the utter horror as she lost control and began to scream, shying away from him, the hate radiating from her like an overheated blaster. The haggard, exhausted look on his face when Vaiya had first come to her, the pleading expression, the I’ll-die-if-you-reject-me-again look. For a short while, Mara had enjoyed it. But it was far from enjoyable now.
Maybe if she could somehow allieviate her fear. She pushed deeper into her meditation, touching those emotions that were so alien to her and yet completely from her own heart. Skywalker, instead of growing dimmer under the onslaught of courage, grew larger. As she pushed deeper, she could see how she had cared for him. She didn’t understand why, but she did. Something was there, some strings of fate that pulled at her even now. The fact that he seemed to complete her, her opposite, her compliment, her match.
This was impossible.
Mara opened her eyes. There was a nice window on the far
side of her room. She got up off the bed and went to sit down on the wide steel sill. It was an old trick she used to use to let herself rest and yet stay on her feet. It was a comforting guesture, and it did help a little, but as she gazed down at Coruscant and watched as the early dawn shed its light upon those that remained awake through the night, she knew what her decision had to be.
She just hoped that Skywalker would be able to forgive her...someday.
She rang the buzzer for the attending nurse, and told him that she wanted to see Vaiya again. “They have left the lounge,” he said, “I’ll have to send for them at their apartments.”
“They’re in a conference room,” Mara said, and then realized what it was she had said. How did she know that? Perhaps all her thinking about Skywalker last night had reached him somehow. Of course Vaiya was with him---she didn’t have to be Force sensitive to figure that much out.
The nurse, for his part, smiled and nodded and went on his errand. Within a few minutes, Vaiya was there with her, alone. She had discarded that cape, and her hair was rather disheveled. Mara could see her own reflection in Vaiya at the moment, and it helped to alieviate some of her anxiety.
“Well...do what you came to do,” Mara whispered.
“So you’ve decided you want your memories back.” It was a
statement, not a question. “Then why are you so afraid?” Vaiya approached her, and gently put her hands on Mara’s shoulders. “You don’t have to be, you know.”
The look Mara gave her was begging for mercy. “Vaiya...do what you came to do, please.”
With a deep breath, Vaiya placed her hands on either side of Mara’s head. She reached forward with her mind and felt Mara do the same. Within seconds, they had melded.
Vaiya opened the door, and the last 30-odd years of Mara’s life came tumbling out.
5--No Greater Enemy
She remembered arguing with Skywalker a short while ago, saying that maybe they needed to let Vaiya go her own way, and not go chasing after her. She remembered the rage she felt when she had realized Jaid was really Cal, and had been using her daughter to get to the rest of them. She remembered the pity she felt for Jaid when he’d come there, giving them a story about how he was searching out his “father...” How Luke had disliked that Vaiya was giving so much attention to Derrin, who obviously wasn’t interested,  but liked to pretend that he was. She remembered their life on Yavin IV, how it had irritated her to be in such a “country” setting when she was a big city girl, but how little it really mattered to her with her responsibilities as a Jedi, and the love of her family. She remembered realizing that home wasn’t a where, but a why. Even in the stars, aboard the Jaded Sky, it was still home to her. She saw how Vaiya had grown in skill and intelligence, absorbing everything new, but soon had grown bored with all the galaxy stretched out before her.  She felt old worries that had not entered her mind in what felt like forever, but knew they were as fresh as last week.
But there was still more, pushing farther back into her past.  The memories of Callista, watching her die, trapped under the heavy boulders in that mine that was slowly caving in. Callista had gone there, seeking her help, knowing about Luke and herself, and willing to accept it, even though it broke her heart. Mara remembered feeling sorry for Callista, having borne Luke a son and never knowing if he would ever be found. She remembered thinking about her own child, and how she would feel if slavers stole it from her. And then, with her dying breath, Callista had found the name for the Skywalker-Jade child...Vaiya. Stonelifter, in the Chad language. But it also meant something else, something she had not seen back then, but could see only slightly better now.
The years with Luke had drifted past her like an idyllic existence, and just as serenely they went by again, back to a more tumultuous time, where she and Luke were so afraid of each other without knowing it. Back on the cliffs of the Hand of Thrawn, locked deep in the heart where the water roared in their ears and threatened to end their new lives, she remembered his face when she asked him to marry her, and she found that she could not remember a time when she did not love him. Even as her memories carried even farther back, to when they had first met and she was struggling against the rage of the Emperor’s Last Command, she could not imagine her life having gone anywhere else.
Before Luke, all it had been was aimless wanderings. Karrde had been the only saving grace during that time of her life, and still she spent much time wandering. She thought of Cal, of how they had worked together so well, but how he scared her for reasons she always felt better than she named. There was something dark and twisted about him...the connections he made, the beings that were rank with the sith. Palpatine was the highest sith lord in all of the galaxy, but he did not frighten her like these men did, with their faces tattooed in dark and dangerous shapes.
And still, there was more.
Palpatine and his training, her pledge of undying loyalty. The
dark betrayal of the offworlders, the execution of her parents before her very eyes, the feeling of something dying in her and her, in return, forsaking something as important to her as her life’s breath.
Durran...was home. She could see it, as it used to be, when it was not forbidden to offworlders. She remembered running through its thick meadows and playing with the flowers, using the Force to make them fly around her. She remembered an old man, his head devoid of any hair but his smile bright with youth. She remembered him teaching her the ways of the....no, not the Force....Psyenergy. She could see the bright layers of energy that enveloped the world around her, could make them move. And the old man...he had loved his religion. He had been scorned and mocked for it, and her own parents wanted to get her away from him, afraid that she, too, might become like him. But....Valeris?...had always assured her that whatever path Yejion chose to put them on, it would be for the best. But her faith had died that day when Palpatine came. She could have resisted, she had the will to resist, but she had given in because she had been deceived. Only years and years later would that deceit come to light, but the bitterness it could have caused had been easily brushed away.
That was all over now. Where was she? Oh, yes, in that hospital room on Coruscant, where she had spent the last days acting like a vonskyrr.
Mother? Vaiya sent to her through the bond.
I am here.
Then come and see what I have to show you.
Mara followed Vaiya into her thoughts, and saw the man she
had seen in her own memories. Valeris, much older, but with his eyes still bright and his spirit still young, living the life of a hermit. But he had known who Vaiya was, and knew that Mara was not far behind.  He was all that was left of her family...all that was left of her past, before the Emperor.
Mara opened her eyes. Maybe the whole experience was just too much for her, or maybe her mind was struggling to find some way to vent all the emotions she’d just experienced. But as she looked at Vaiya, who was watching her with open concern, she felt a sudden, overwhelming rush of....shame.
She saw Luke’s face when she had screamed and railed against him, when she had said she didn’t want to remember. As surely as if a veil had been lifted, she could feel his pain as accutely as her own.  She had done that to him...all that hatred she had shown for him, that refusal to even desire getting her life back, until somehow she had found it, not knowing how or by, but just knowing that it was to be, it was what she had to do.
She couldn’t breathe.
“Mother?” Vaiya whispered, her voice slightly strange-
sounding to Mara’s ears. “Are you....”
Vaiya didn’t dare finish. Mara crumpled to the ground, on her knees, throwing her arms forward and resting her face on top of them.  Within a few seconds, there was the terrible sound of someone letting out huge, heaving sobs; sobs filled with more pain than all the dying voices of Alderaan.
Vaiya didn’t know what to do. The emotions blasted at her so loud, like the sonic pulse of a transistor, that she couldn’t make any sense from them. There was just shame. A self-hatred that seemed to threaten Mara with complete engulfment. Vaiya was afraid that if Mara willed it hard enough, space itself would open for her and suck her into a black hole of her own making.
This was not her place, anymore. Only one person could help her now. Vaiya turned around and headed for the door, but it slid open and her father was there, walking toward her with his eyes locked on Mara. He looked at Mara in utter confusion, feeling her emotions as Vaiya did, but even more baffled by them in the midst of his joy that Mara had returned to him.
He passed Vaiya, who continued her walk toward the door, step through and then shut it behind her.
Whatever happened now was in the hands of God.
This was not the reaction he had expected. He had half-expected Mara to sit up the second she saw him and tell him that she had already made herself clear, that she did not want to love him, and wish that he had respected that wish.
But no, she had continued to cry. In fact, she was crying harder now that he was here. She wouldn’t look at him, but she knew he was there. He tried to send her comforting thoughts, but she pushed them away with something that felt like...shame?
Unwilling to accept that, he gently lifted her up into his arms and held her like a little child, letting her use his shoulder even though she refused to look at his face. Long minutes passed, and Luke found himself enjoying just being close to her again.
Finally, she muttered in a hoarse voice, “I can’t even believe you’re doing this.”
“Doing what?” he asked.
“Coddling me like this...after what I’ve done.” He looked
down at her in surprise, but she wouldn’t look up at him.
“What have you done?” he whispered.
Finally, those glittering emerald orbs looked at him. What he
saw there...it frightened him. The dishonor there, the complete shame,
the pain at having hurt him so much with her vengeful hate....if she
had had a lightsaber at the moment Luke would have feared for her
life. Her mouth wouldn’t work, it had gone dry. Through the Force, he
heard, Everything I have done to you.
He started. “What are you talking about? All that? It’s in the past, Mara. How could I possibly be angry at you for all of that?  You’re my wife, have been for almost twenty years! What would make you think of all of that now?”
“Because that’s who I just was!” she cried, a muted croak. She shook her head. There are no words, and then silence.
Gently, Luke touched her mind. He tried to see around the heavy, blinding pain. He saw that her heart had not changed...that she remembered loving him, and loved him still the same as ever. But the pain of coming face to face with the part of her that she thought long dead, the part that was the Emperor’s Hand...no, it was not dead as she had suspected. It was still there, waiting. Like the dark side, it just needed the right moment to make its presence known.
And she hated it.
Caught in its power, she had refused the person she had
become, had refused the core of her idenity just to appease the darkness. The darkness, the price of self, placing her self over everything else, even blood and family, had ruled her, and she did not know how she had controlled it. The very thought that Vaiya might not have been able to do what she did made her sick, and Mara groaned.
Perhaps her loving husband was not what she needed right now. Perhaps what she needed was her teacher. “Mara,” Luke said, his tone taking a different edge—a softer, more patient edge, not so heavily laced with his emotions, even as love-based as they were.
It surprised her. She had managed to calm a bit from her tears-
for there were not many tears in Mara that she could shed—but the sound of her name made her fall silent. She lifted her head to look at him, fear prominent on her face. He carressed her cheek assuringly and gently guided her into a sitting position, carefully positioning himself before her, taking her hands firmly.
“There’s something I never told you,” he began, his voice still that same, gently authorative tone. “When we fought CyBoth. When you killed that clone of me.”
She nodded, flinching. “What about it?” she asked, her voice cracking as the despair threatened to swell around her again. All the horrible things she’d done....
“No, Mara,” Master Skywalker said, forcing her attention back to his voice. “None of those thoughts. This is about me. When we fought against CyBoth, he had a clone made of me, from the hand I lost at Bespin. I had to fight that clone, but I couldn’t because of the buzzing in my head. But just because I was distracted, that didn’t mean that the dark side couldn’t tempt me again. I could have killed that clone. I didn’t have to believe that it led to maddness. There’s no proof of that, not really.”
“But you didn’t kill him,” Mara reminded him. “In fact, you offered yourself to CyBoth in return for setting the rest of us...free.”
“Yes, I did. But I still wanted to kill my clone. I saw how the dark side had twisted him, how angry he was, angry as I had been on Bespin. I saw my dark side, what I could become. Half of the reason I joined the Emperor when he was ressurected—or rather, who we thought was the ressurrected Emperor—“ he added hastily at Mara’s familiar disagreeing frown, “was to prove to myself that that wasn’t who I was, that I could never become that. I found out that it was me, that that darkness lay within me. I was capable of terrible things, but I had chosen the light, even though it hurt to have my dark flaws. I had to face myself and accept myself as I was, set myself to my path and never let pain or regret make me turn back or forsake what I had worked so hard to build.”  He paused. “Or the Academy. I know you didn’t think much of me when I declared myself a Jedi Master, and I know the move was very audacious, and the only reason it was accepted was because of the simple fact that I was the first of the Jedi Knights since Ben. And the Academy, of course. But I would never have dared declare myself a Master unless I felt I had won the battle with myself. The trials of the Jedi do not end with Knighthood, Mara.  They come every day, and few are blessed with trails large enough to provide the opportunity to really know themselves. A Master of the Force must be a master of himself first. Or herself. Mara, I believe that this is your trial. You have to come to terms with yourself. I have always known that one day you would become a Jedi Master. If that time is now...do not waste it on shame.”
“I can’t help but waste it that way,” Mara said with more than a touch of irritation. “I’ve always been able to control my emotions, but this shame...it’s different. It’s a rebellion against my own self!”
“Then try humility,” he whispered.
She shut her eyes. “You make it sound so easy. How does one
be humble?”
“I’ll show you.” Instantly, the Jedi Master dropped away, and Luke reached out to her, pulling her into his arms so that they faced each other on their knees. Gently, he ran his hand through her hair, letting his fingers relish the sensation they had missed for so long. “I don’t care what you’ve done, Mara, you’re my wife and I love you. I wouldn’t care if you had tried to kill me again...you tried it before and I loved you even then. So you’re just going to have to accept that and move on, because I don’t care what kind of horrible monster you think you have living inside of you. I’m not letting you go. Period.”
Rarely—extremely rarely—Mara Jade had blushed in her life.
But this was not exactly a point in her life where any of that mattered.
And as the blush rushed across her cheeks, a smile played at her lips.
“I can’t ask you to even try and save yourself?”
“Nope. I’m a completely lost cause.”
What it was about that moment, she didn’t know. But suddenly
she found herself laughing. Laughing at Skywalker, laughing at herself, laughing at the two of them facing each other, knee to knee, in the middle of a hospital room with probably a dozen people watching from behind that two-way mirror. Laughing at her own foolishness, at Luke’s die-hard affection and loyalty to her, at the mad course the Force had seen to send them through. Best of it all was, Luke was laughing with her, not in amusement, for he knew the joke was for her alone, but out of joy that she was smiling again, those old sarcastic lines softening and yet reappearing from under the heavy sorrowful tears she had shed.
“You...you really are crazy, farmboy. I don’t think I ever really realized it until now,” she finally managed.
He calmed. “Oh, you realized it, I’m sure,” he said, getting to his feet and pulling her up with him in one quick yank.
“Good God, I feel like I’m twenty years younger again,” she breathed, the laughter fading underneath the more real, sombre joy of the moment.
“Wouldn’t it be nice?” Luke murmured.
Then she looked up into his eyes, puzzled. “That can’t be it,”
she said suddenly. “I mean, a burst of laughter and everything is better? I forget all about how I was such a horrible person?”
“You were no more of a horrible person than anyone else. It’s just the rare few of us who get to see it face to face. And no, this isn’t it. You’re going to need some real time to heal your wounds. You have to learn to forgive yourself, Mara. The Force can forgive you, and I can forgive you, but you have to forgive yourself if you ever truly want to move on.”
“I though I had moved on,” she mumbled. “I feel like I’ve had such a setback.”
Luke shook his head. “They often say that you’re getting closer to the Force if you start to see yourself making a lot of mistakes.”
Mara’s face took on a faraway look. “I heard that somewhere....something in Vaiya’s mind, in my past...a man named Valeris. He taught me about that...but it wasn’t the Force.” She shook her head, her mind suddenly going all fuzzy. “So much,” she gasped.
“Take your time. You have the rest of your life.”
“Oh, you mean I’m going to be this weepy, blushing,
emotional wreck for the rest of my Force-extended life?”
Luke laughed. “I’m willing to bet a weekend on that Comet Resort you refuse to go to that you’re back to the sarcastic, snarling, putting-me-in-my-place-every-chance-you-get hellcat that I married twenty years ago.”
“If I agree with you, that means no bet, right?” she asked, looking at him with a pleading expression. “God, anywhere but that resort.”
“Callista liked it,” Luke muttered.
Mara playfully punched him in the ribs.
6--Silver Silence
Vaiya stood alone on the observation deck. She could barely make out Durran from here...just a pale speck in the mosaic of the sky. One tiny piece, drowned out by a million others with brighter colors and bigger lights. But her heart knew where it was.
She liked it here alone right now. She had sensed the reconciliation of her parents and the calming of her mother’s dark emotions. But she did not try and see them. They needed time to themselves.
So did she.
Still gazing at the dim speck that was Durran, she thought
about Larin. She wanted to reach out to him, just to know where he
was, but something stopped her. Not yet, a quiet inner voice
instructed her. The time is not here.
Accepting it with a sigh, she rested her head against the glass.  She wanted to go back to Durran and finish her Jedi training, although she doubted that there was much Valeris could teach her about the physical aspects of the Force that either he or her father had not already  taught her. And there was little doubt that after Mother regained her senses and started to have more clear memories of her homeworld, she would want to go there.
Now, as she thought about Durran in a more rational light--- for nothing about the last few days had been rational—she noticed that they had had very little trouble getting off Durran without getting attacked by Cal. After all, they had hired Cal to protect their space territory and keep the offworlders...well, off. Apparently, he had either fallen asleep at the helm, or he’d been fired.
She had to smile at that thought. But it was only a matter of time before the man showed his wickedly handsome face again.  Vaiya felt a moment of pleasure at the thought of marring it with the flat end of her lightsaber, just for fun, and quickly pushed it away. He had a real vendetta against the Skywalkers. Vaiya knew the worst was yet to come.
Such was the trial of the Jedi.
She hoped Larin was okay.
Valeris could teach her many more things than just about the
Force, she knew. And she found herself wanting to learn them. She had barely been sixteen for a month, and she felt like she was sixty-one and sinking into the twilight of her life. Her mind ached, her throat was raw, and her eyes blurred with exhaustion. Her muscles ached and she wasn’t even moving, just standing still. Her connection to her mother had eased considerably, but there was something beyond that. Vaiya felt like she had inherited something, letting those memories pass through her conscious thoughts and back into Mara where they belonged. The things her mother had learned to do as the Emperor’s Hand would only require practice for Vaiya to be able to imitate them herself. The intelligence, the toughness of her mother had somehow regenerated her, had countered the Jedi Knight that her father’s half had imbued her with. She knew so many people saw her father in her. It was time to show the world that she was part Jade, as well.
Young and old at the same time. This universe made little sense.
She turned from the viewport, growing tired to the stars. They were rarely the same, but she was as used to them as she was sunlight and air. They were just there, unthinking, unchanging...and exuding the power of the Force. The Force that was the energy of all things, living or likewise, the potential energy of stillness or the kinetic energy of movement. It was all there, a great forcefield of power to be tapped into by anyone with the ability.
People like her.
Valeris had taught her much in the short time she was with
him. He had shown her that the Force itself was not sentient, but was a weapon, and neutral, like all other weapons. He explained to her that the Jedi, centuries ago, had believed in not just the Force, but in its Maker. The people of Durran named the Maker Yejion, but the Maker had other names. He was the Maker, the Sustainer, and the Completer, the Beginning and the End. Although the Jedi embraced all religions, this code had not originally come from their belief that the Force was neutral and embraced all. This had come from the ancient belief that all races believed in the Maker, and that the Maker was present in all races, for the Maker had made everything, so any religion that followed the heart of the Jedi code was embraced. But over time, the belief that the Maker was in fact existence itself had blurred the lines between It and It’s creation, the Force. So the Force had become the maker, and the Jedi had soon been lost under dark side oppression.
The Jedi belief had not been wrong. But credit had not been given where it was due.
Vaiya pulled herself from her heavy thoughts. She knew she believed Valeris, but she wanted more than just this “universal explanation.” She wanted to know why. Because as soon as she knew why, she could pass this on to other Jedi Knights. Perhaps Derrin and Drianna---stars, she hadn’t even thought about Derrin at all, let alone Drianna!--would be interested. The two of them had been awfully dedicated to their homeworld religions before they’d come to the academy, and Vaiya very much doubted that they had given those beliefs up. In fact, even her own father had said that he’d always known there was a reason he had never tried to enforce the belief of the Force as completely supreme—he had known in his selfless Jedi heart that there was something bigger, but it was not yet time for him to see.
Maybe he had time now. Maybe Mother would, too. If Valeris had taught her, even as young as she was, the same things he had taught Vaiya, perhaps Mother would want to learn those things again herself.
Problem was...what to do in the meantime?
Courscant was pretty fantastic, she had to admit. She didn’t
know what was more spectacular---the starts of the coreworlds in their bright gem-like colors, or the way the city under her moved, always bustling, always alive and awake. Maybe she should act like a teenager again. Maybe even go shopping. Surely Drianna would join her....
Or maybe not.
Vaiya started the slow meander back to her parents aparments,
lost in her thoughts. When she arrived, she noticed that it had not been used the entire time that her parents had been here. Except for the bed being dented slightly on Luke’s side from the one night he’d slept here, maybe two, nothing had been used. No cups, no dishes, no food, the couch was still wrinkle-free and everything was in its place.
Her bag sat on the floor outside of her room. She had quickly changed out of her father’s black Jedi uniform after she’d seen Mara for the first time. It might have helped her a bit to see her in an ordinary gray jumpsuit later on, looking very casual, very normal, nothing like a Jedi knight.
Vaiya pulled the suit out of her bag. With it came the lightsaber—Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber. She’d taken them out of some childish desire to prove to her parents that she was just as good as they were, just as capable of being  Jedi as they were, just as worthy of trust as they were.
Trust... Vaiya felt like laughing. Trust did not begin to cover what she had experienced. There were things she had dismissed, things her brain had refused to see because they were not meant for her to see, whether they be in life-threatening situations or not. Maybe she should give them back. Using them now...it made her slightly ill, even thinking about it. Carefully, she draped them across the bed, placing the lightsaber in the center so it wouldn’t roll. Maybe if things had gone differently, her parents could have seen her in them...could have seen how she was to be their pride, not their fear.  And fear for her they did. It was more accute now than ever before, which was rather odd because Vaiya’s irritation with that had smoothed into a kind of mellow saddness.
Her concentration was broken by someone ringing the small announcer at the door. Vaiya stepped into the small foyer and checked the small screen.
It was Drianna.
For a moment, Vaiya just watched her. She was very pretty—
thick dark hair that fell down the middle of her back in a heavy rope-like braid, muscular build, but hardly masculine... she had an ease about her that Vaiya rather liked.
Liked, in fact, very much.
She opened the door, and as it slid back to reveal her visitor in
the flesh, Drianna turned to her with a guarded expression on her face, as if expecting immediate rejection.
“Hello, Dri,” Vaiya said, feeling extremely open toward the woman. Drianna started slightly as if someone had just tossed her a potato that she had expected to be hot.
“Hello, Vai,” Drianna replied, and after a few seconds Vaiya felt her relax. “Can I come in?”
“Of course.” Vaiya turned away and headed for her room again, grabbing the bag and hauling it back with her to the small dining room. She pulled out one of the heavy glass chairs padded with expensive silver-tone embroidered pillows and plopped down, preparing to examine the bag’s contents. “What can I do for you?” Vaiya asked.
There was a pause for her answer. Vaiya even glanced up in puzzlement to find Drianna staring at her. “Great stars,” Drianna finally whispered. “You were only gone a month.”
Vaiya couldn’t resist a grin as she shrugged her shoulders.
“What can I say? People change.”
Drianna frowned slightly and shook her head. “Vaiya, you don’t even look sixteen. You didn’t look like this when you came back with us from Durran...have you taken a good look at yourself in the mirror? I swear, you’ve aged.”
Curiosity raised by Drianna’s expression, Vaiya stood up and made her way to the refresher. The large glass gave her a wide view, and it took Vaiya a few seconds to see what Drianna was talking about.
Her hair, the reddish honey color that it had always been, was the same. Her eyes, a bright shade of blue green, stared back at her as usual. But there was something in her face. An expression, maybe? It certainly wasn’t wrinkles...except for that one line that had found its permanent place between her eyebrows.
Okay, so Drianna was right. She had aged. But it wasn’t a physical aging. It was all rather...odd.
Vaiya turned away, feeling a little spooked. She was getting rather tired of all the seriousness around her lately. She sighed and shook it off. “I don’t know...blame it on hyperspace. What is it that you wanted?” she asked, still trying to stay light.
Drianna shifted a little. “Well, this is going to sound a little odd...”
“Yeah, join the club,” Vaiya whispered.
“I just...I just wanted to tell you that....” Drianna started back
toward the dining room, feeling a little more comfortable telling Vaiya these things in more social venues, “...I wanted to make sure that everything was...okay.”
“Okay?” Vaiya echoed, not quite getting the gist.
“Yeah, okay. I mean, I know that you were a little mad when
you left us, and when we found you—or rather, you found us—we didn’t really get a chance to say much.”
After a long pause and a very hard look into Drianna’s face, Vaiya finally said, “You’re talking about Derrin.”
“Yes.”
Vaiya smiled. Instantly, that spooky aged-look vanished. She
reached out and took Drianna’s hand. “Hey, don’t sweat it, okay? I’m fine. Really.” She even laughed. A genuine laugh. Derrin...of all the things to fight over.
“Really?” Drianna echoed, doubtful.
“You didn’t happen to notice that I was with someone, did
you?” Vaiya pointed out.
Drianna’s face changed from recognition to complete bafflement. “You mean...you and that guy, what was his name?”
“Larin.”
“But he left! I thought he was just hitching a ride.”
“He was.”
“But why would he leave when you were—“
Vaiya put her hand up. “It’s complicated, Drianna. I don’t even understand it myself. But whatever Larin needed to do, he needed to do it alone. And I needed to do this alone. I mean,” and she added a grin, “we all gotta grow up sometime.”
Drianna took this in, and after a few long moments, she said, “I guess we do. But all that aside, Vai,” and she put out her hand, “I just want to be friends.”
“Sounds good to me.” Vaiya took it, putting all the genuine warmth into the handshake that she could.
Just then, the door slid open without it being announced. Han Solo stood in the doorway, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on Vaiya.
“There you are!” he said. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”
Vaiya went to him and embraced him. “They told me that you were here for a while, but that you had to leave.”
“Yeah, well, the life of an ex-smuggler is never dull when he marries a diplomat,” Han muttered as he ruffled Vaiya’s hair. “You look older.”
“Yeah, we were just discussing that,” Drianna said dryly.
Vaiya considered her uncle for a long moment. “Uncle Han,
what are you doing for the next two weeks?” she said hopefully.
“Why?” Han asked, typically suspicious.
“I was wondering if...you could get me back to Durran.”
“Why?” Han asked, nearly flabbergasted. “We just went
through Kessel and back to get you out!”
Vaiya shrugged. “It’s just something I need to do,” she said softly.
Han sighed. “Far be it from me to argue with a Jedi. But you get to tell your parents.”

7--The Cult of Maul
The faces made up a demonic rainbow. Yellow, green, blue, orange, and grey, all mingled with black. In the center stood one with red markings, his head shorn like the others but studded with a crown of short, thick horns.
“Soon,” he said, his voice a cross between a growl and purr. It was not a human voice by many standards, but their race was not a human race by many standards, either. “Soon she will be among us.”
Above, Larin watched the display with a kind of horrified fascination. “Aren’t they amazing?” Cal said, his voice low and dripping with awe. “You can feel them from all through this chamber.  I can’t allow anyone in anymore. They’re starting to disturb the rituals.”
Larin leaned heavily on the rail, his eyes feeling thick. They’d given him some kind of shot before, something Cal had said he needed for space travel, like some kind of vaccine maybe. So far, it had made him feel pretty good, but....strange.
“Who are they?” he managed to ask, his tongue finally obeying his will.
“That’s the fun part,” Cal said. “All full of history, this universe is. All you have to know is where to look. Back a century ago, when Palpatine was plotting his rise to power, there were seven of these men. One of them was Darth Maul.”
Larin frowned, confused. “Palpatine...you mean Vaiya’s Palpatine? The one her mother worked for?”
“Exactly.” Cal sighed and shook his head. “How difficult it will be to explain all of this to you when you don’t have a clue as to what I’m talking about.” He shrugged. “Oh, well. You know who Palpatine was...that’s enough, I guess. Palpatine was trained by a sith lord. You know what a sith lord is, don’t you?”
Larin nodded his head. “I’ve heard of it.”
“Well, Palpatine was trained with the idea of there being only
two sith lords at one time. A master, and an apprentice. This prevented them from destroying each other, what with the nature of evil and the sith being to grasp absolute power over everything else.  It’s really hard to work as a team when everyone is holding a knife to everyone else’s back, you know?”
Below, the faces had started to chant. Larin watched their mouths move---their tattooed mouths, making their mosaic faces dance in hypnotic ways. He had to pull his eyes away just to focus on Cal’s words.
“---th Maul was one of these guys. A red one, to be exact. Red is the center of their power. Well, he ran off to help Palpatine because Palpatine promised him a bunch of stuff like ruling the galaxy and all that. Unfortunately, Maul got sliced in half by Obi-Wan Kenobi, who also happened to be Luke Skywalker’s first teacher. With his death, they had to find another to take his place, one who wasn’t completely obsessed with power.”
Larin frowned. “But what are they?” he asked.
“They are...you know, come to think of it, I’m not really sure. I
know they’re a cult. They are like the sith, but worse, if there can be a worse. They have a belief that their founder, who was killed during the fall of the original sith order, was going to return to them to bring destruction upon the whole of the Jedi. Kind of like a hairbringer of death, the end of the universe and all that.”
“How?”
Cal shrugged. “I just know they’re useful. They are the ones
who did the regeneration ceremony for me.” Cal grinned, stepping back. “You haven’t even told me how young I look for being over fifty yet, Larin. I’ve been waiting all day!”
“And what was in it for them?” Larin asked, feeling all fuzzy in the head.
“Oh...nothing much, really. I just promised them I would deliver them the female they’ve been waiting for. The one who will give birth to their great destroyer. You see, they haven’t had much luck. They managed to find some eligible candidates here and there in their early days, but she always refuses, and their prophecy clearly states that she must be willing or else the child will destroy them all.  Also, they have to kill the female if she refuses because if they don’t, then she will destroy them all.” Cal laughed. “It makes for a bit of fun, I’ll tell you that.”
Larin should have been horrified. Instead, he felt some sort of sick arousal at the thought. As if he were sharing Cal’s very thoughts.  He felt his mouth begin to grin, and his eyes suddenly grew sharper. “I can image,” he heard himself saying. “So what made them believe you if they’ve always had such rotten luck?”
“Well, it hasn’t been easy. Supposedly, their new leader, Darth Seth, hasn’t even tried to find a female since he took over. He mutters things about being patient, that he will know her when he finds her and all that rot. But he accepted my offer—or rather, his brothers made him accept it. Also, the fact that they’ve been banished from every planet in the system makes them very grateful for a place to hide.”
“Where are they from, originally?”
“Some planet I can’t remember the name of.” He shrugged. “I
know their species is called Zabrak. But they’re not limited to that species when they select their members.” He shot Larin a confiding look. “They would even be willing to accept a new leader from another species. I tell you, with their power, there isn’t anything I couldn’t accomplish.” He slapped Larin on the back. “Want to meet Maul’s lucky replacement?”
Larin backed away from the rim. He shrugged. “Why not?
Nothing better to do.”
The one with the red face had bright glowing eyes that made him very hard to look at. Even Cal winced a bit when the gaze was set on him, listening intently.
Larin, however, felt no fear as he studied him. Quite frankly, he found the man to be a bit of a pompus ass, keeping his answers short and low, giving the whole “dark and scary” bit just too much gusto. At least this Vader guy he’d heard so much about had shown some class---and some heart.
His name was Darth Seth, and he had exchanged his purple face for the red one the day Maul had left. He had just experience his first regeneration ceremony, and while he was nearly seventy years old, he barely looked older than Larin himself. Of course, age was hard to discern in youth or otherwise in that fierce mosaic of a face.  But the skin, aside from being so brightly colored, looked rather smooth and ageless.
“So this is my new partner,” Cal said, giving Larin another
slap on the back. “He’ll be helping us find the right kind of girl for
your cause and---“
“Saphringer,” Seth said, his deep growling purr of a voice sending a strange, soothing vibration through Larin’s chest, “you continue to make light of our quest. Such insults will not be tolerated without reciprocation for much longer.”
Cal held out his hands. “Easy, Darth Seth. You really need to learn to relax. All that brooding intensity can take years off your life.” And then Cal’s face turned so dark that it even overshadowed Darth Seth’s vicious face. The ferocity fell from it, the only dignity being that the red and black tattoo kept it from falling away altogether.  “And I will decide,” Cal growled in a voice equally malicious, “what needs to be taken lightly and what does not. And don’t you ever threaten me again or your little cult will be taken right back to that dust world I rescued you from and fed to that sarlacc pit before you can even say the name Darth Maul. Is that understood?”
Larin watched with astonishment, and something more— perhaps excitement, he wasn’t sure. As Seth’s face returned to its normal position, with much more hate visible than before, Larin felt a glimmer of admiration for the man who had just stood him down. The power radiated from Cal as if he himself had just been returned to his youth mere seconds ago. Then, lightly, Cal stepped away.
“Good,” he said, without waiting for Seth to reply. “Now, as I was saying. I know that your advisor, Darth Knar, told you that I was the one who would bring you the woman your prophesy spoke of. But he hasn’t told me anything about the prophesy itself. Perhaps if you could give me some detail, I might be of faster assisstance.”
Seth actually grinned. “Our prolonged presence here is only to your advantage, Saphringer,” he said. “The sith have survived through patience. I have already waited more than half a century. I can wait one more year.”
Larin swore he saw Cal’s face fall slightly, wearily. “Perhaps your brothers cannot,” he murmured, “but very well, then,” and stepped away. “My home is yours.”
After they were a good distance away, Larin turned to Cal.  “What was all that about? I mean, you said they were so useful to you...why do you want them gone?”
Cal sighed. “Because, stupid...that one, Seth, is not their chosen leader. It was given to him by default. I don’t even know if he knows why he was picked. He’s been leading them for five decades at least and quite frankly his followers are sick of it. In case you didn’t notice, he’s a little weak. Sure, he puts on a really good face, and he’s got all the powers, but if you meet him toe to toe, he’ll back down.  They want to replace him with someone new. Particularly, me. And they said that they can’t do it until Seth fails one more time.”
Larin shook his head. “I don’t understand why. I mean, they’re evil. They can do what they want.”
“Not if they want to survive. It’s all more prophecy. Prophecy upon prophecy upon prophecy. They’re loaded with it. It makes even me appreciate the new Jedi Order. They don’t give much of a hoot for prophecy. “
“So who are you going to feed to them?” Larin asked, almost hungrily.
“I’ll tell you...but first I think you need another shot,” Cal said, gently guiding Larin back to the med bay.
“Oh...okay. Whatever you want, Cal.”
8--Home
Slipping out was not the easy task Vaiya had thought it was going to be. Mara’s new memories of her childhood made her want to go to Durran much sooner than Vaiya thought was wise, but Luke only offered encouragement and began making preparations to go before Leia could come up with enough jobs to keep Han from fulfilling Vaiya’s request. In the end, Vaiya gave in to her parents’ wishes not because she thought they were the best thing, but because, in the end, they were her parents. She had a new respect for them, and wished to honor that respect.
The feeling was mutual. The entire trip was filled with strange conversations that Vaiya did not really feel she was ready to have.  Luke had already heard about all the things Vaiya had learned about on Durran, but Mara, fresh from her ascent to the status of Jedi Master, wanted every detail. In spite of her new level of self-knowledge, Mara was rather skeptical about the things Vaiya told her, and many hours were spent in rutting debate, going in circles and accomplishing only splitting headaches.
It was only a day before they came into Durran space that Mara finally began to feel the first sparks of faith. But it was not so easy for her to accept, because Luke had taken up Vaiya’s new religion and run with it.
In their bedroom on the Jaded Sky, Mara sat and watched the starlines float past her from her favorite chair, an emerald-green velvet padded curved throne-like seat that was a little too firm for anyone else’s taste. Mara said that it was the best thing to relax against because it gave such resistance. She was attempting her relaxed state in order to bring her mind to a more meditative mode when Luke interrupted her.
“Going somewhere?” he asked as he entered the room, turning on one light that cast its soft yellow glow over Mara’s back. It made the entire room feel warm.
“I was.” She looked up at him, feeling disturbed. Luke felt it and straddled the footrest before her, reaching for her hands.
“I know that I encouraged you to come on this trip,” Luke began, “but I’m beginning to question my own judgement.”
“Big words from the great Jedi Master,” Mara said, her voice soft as she leaned closer to him. But her brow was not cleared of the troubled lines that marred it.
“Are you sure you’re ready for all of this, Mara? I mean, you’ve been through a lot. What Vaiya has told us of Valeris, the things the man believes in and lives by and has passed on as the true teachings of the Force...it’s a lot to take.”
“Yes and no,” Mara said thoughtfully. “When Vaiya was born, and I thought I was going to die...when I saw Callista die and become one with the....light...I saw the Light, Luke. I know that was Vaiya tells me is true. I just don’t know how I feel about it.”
“You mean you don’t know if you like it?” Luke gently pointed out.
Mara gave a very slight shrug, and her head bowed, a genuine act of humility. “Perhaps that is so.”
Luke reached out for her and caressed her hair, pulling the great crown of it to his lips and kissing it, a comforting guesture.  “You never cared much for the Force, either, or for Jedi Knights. And yet you served Palpatine with such loyalty, and he was the worst of them.”
Under other circumstances, the words would have cut her to the quick. She would have snarled back something nasty and then made a derrogatory comment about the new order of Jedi Knights following a God they didn’t even know not being much better. But instead, she frowned thoughtfully. “Perhaps it was because of that that I don’t like this idea much. Palpatine demanded not just loyalty, but worship. Most sith lords were like that, from what I understood from history. Power denied was power wasted. Palpatine sought absolute power. The idea of a creature with this absolute power, coming sheerly by its nature...it makes me uneasy.”
“But this is not a creature we’re talking about. Palpatine was a mortal, flawed man. He was capable of failure. What a God is supposed to be is an archetype. A Supreme Being, a peak of all existence, even existence itself. Incapable of wrong, but not indifferent to what It has created. It is not flawed. It’s very essence is perfection.”
“Then explain all the little gods we’ve run across in all the different cultures we’ve seen,” Mara challenged. “What makes them different from this real God you talk about? Aren’t they supposed to be better than us?”
“You can easily tell that they were made up because the gods are as flawed as the humans who worship them. A true God is not flawed. And there can be only one. That is why It has so many faces and names.”
“How do we know this God isn’t made up, too?”
“Faith.”
The answer startled her. Mara pulled back. “Luke, you’re
scaring me.”
“Mara, it isn’t so different than what we already believe. We sought the Force as our guide, as our maker and our ally. We have merely been shown that the Force it also a creation, its purpose to bring us closer to its Master. The essence of what we seek to be, the definition we hold of goodness and light, hasn’t changed. We still seek to be selfless, to serve. That is what we thought the light side of the Force asked us. We have merely found out that it is not the Force itself, but the Maker of the Force.”
“But how do we know that there isn’t something still higher than this God Vaiya talks about? How do we know that we’re going in the right direction? What if something bigger comes along and says it made the Maker of the Force? What then?”
Luke shook his head, trying not to show his amusment.
“You’re scared, Mara. It’s okay to admit that you’re afraid.”
“Damn right I am!” Mara said, her voice rising a notch. “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?”
“To not let your fear stop you. Mara, you have never given in to your fear. Why are you fighting this now?”
“This is different. This is beyond me. I can’t do this alone.” She paused. “And I’m scared that you’ll leave me behind,” she said softly.
Luke smiled, his blue eyes dark and soft. “Mara, you are my wife. I love you more now than on the day we were married. I will continue to love you even more as we go on, because I will not be loving you just with my own heart any longer, but with the grace of this God who has finally shown Itself to us. We will gain everything, if only we are willing to lose ourselves. Can you see this?”
“I want to,” she whispered. “But I’m scared.”
“Then pray,” Luke said as he held her close. “Pray for grace to
accept it. Because I know in your heart, you do believe.”
“I do,” Mara said, her voice strained with distant pain. “I just hope I can live up to it.”
Luke smiled. He knew the day would come when he knew Mara better than she knew herself. “We just need time,” he soothed.  And they had time. They had all of eternity.
They dropped out of hyperspace a good several hours distance from Durran. The planet appeared as little more than a very bright star in the distance. Mara was in the pilot’s seat, carefully considering the situation. They had joined together and felt through the Force for any sign of Cal, and had found nothing, but still they hesitated. The Durranians must be tired of their offworlder interference, even though they had disturbed nothing but the sands of their desert, where they sent all they banished. But Mara didn’t like sneaking in and out like criminals.
This was also the first time she had gazed upon her homeworld with the knowledge of its idenity. Luke could sense that she didn’t like the fact that she felt so rejected by it, simply because they would call her an Offworlder. She wanted to make some sort of contact with them, but had little idea how to do so.
Vaiya sat in the copilot’s seat, her thoughts following the same manner, although for different reasons.  She just didn’t want to be chased away. She wanted to reach some kind of peace with this people, rather than sneak in and out like a criminal. And after all, she was half Durranian. She had a right to be on her homeworld. Surely there had to be something they could do.
Then, as she gazed out into the peaceful dark, she said, “Maybe we should head in slowly.”
From behind her, Luke shifted. “But keep our distance in case they get hostile.”
“They won’t get hostile,” Mara said, her voice taking on a strange quality, as if she were speaking through some sort of distorted commlink. It had a hallowed tone, and it made both her husband and daughter look at her. “Trust me,” she said, the tone vanishing as quickly as it had arrived. “Let’s just let them know that we’re here.”
So they slowly made their way toward the planet. It took a full hour before they could make out its face, filled with rich green and blue lines that faded into black where its sun did not send its rays.  Toward the lower half Vaiya could see a great patch made up of different shades of white. As they got even nearer, she could see a particularly bright white spot, and her heart told her that it was where Valeris was, waiting for her to return.
Suddenly, Mara brought the craft to a halt. They weren’t so far now, close enough to be easily detected by the simplest radar. They were far from orbit, however, and both Vaiya and Luke looked to Mara in hesitation, wondering what she sensed that they did not.
Within a few minutes, the small craft started to come. They were seven of them, all painted bright blue and green, streaked with the red and white symbols of their government. There was one larger than the others, and it slowed to hover a rather close distance before them.
“Unidentified craft, please state your intention.”
Vaiya felt her eyebrows raise. Mara was right, they weren’t
going to be hostile. In fact, they seemed to be slightly hesitant as they confronted the Jaded Sky.
“This is the Jaded Sky,” Mara said, her voice smooth and confident without any of her cold harshness that she had been known to use to intimidate those who were new to her. “My name is Mara Jade Skywalker.”
There was a static pause. “Jade,” came a new voice, this one much older. “As in Valeris Jade?”
Vaiya felt her heart leap into her throat. “Yes,” Mara said, still calm. “I am his granddaughter.”
The captial city of Durran was known as Reyan, and it was a beautiful city. It reminded Luke a bit of Coruscant, but not so large, and the buildings were more pointed and less square. As they neared the landing port, the buildings began to look like pyramids, framed with a heavy slate grey stone that was nearly black in color. The Jaded Sky approached a wide plane of open space that was flanked with small blue lights, as if to inform the pilot of its location.  Surrounding them were more buildings, and everything was plated with mirrors in some way. Many of the glass panes had a distinctive color—red, blue, gold, even irridescent. The main building was adorned all in the silver glass, and the panes had all been etched with a frosty white substance. Luke used his Force-enhanced senses to get a better view, and noticed that there were figures of all types, set up as if to tell a story.
Part of their escourt landed before them, and Luke noticed that the Durranian craft had wheels on their landing legs and had to roll across a bit of the open plane before they came to a halt. The Jaded Sky set itself down delicately, like a bird coming to roost on a flat rock. A few more of the small craft slid to a stop around them.
Vaiya was first down their ramp, and there was an ornate guard surrounding their spacecraft. They were looking at it as if they were trying not to notice it, but they had not seen something like the Jaded Sky in a quite a long time. It was rather fascinating to them to see something familiar, but at the same time unknown. Vaiya, dressed in a simple grey flight suit, nodded at them, taking in their metalic clothes with their plates of glass placed here and there, looking more like a suit of armor than decoration. Maybe it wasn’t glass, Vaiya pondered, or maybe it was a kind of glass that was far from delicate in nature. It was braced around their knees and their elbows, and they wore wide collars of it, exposing necks covered with what looked like metal cloth. The same cloth covered their arms and then hung down before them like loincloths, front and back. High boots of shining black and matching gloves contrasted the rich silver, and they wore helmets that looked more like silver crowns with the same metal cloth draped down their backs.
The guard parted and someone approached, someone important. She wore a rather plain white cotton material, with long sleeves and trousers, but the same loincloth design as the guards. The cloth was set off by a silver belt, collar and boots. Her thick hair hung over one shoulder in a braid shot through with the same silver material. Her hair shone with bright red streaks, but toned down to a rich brown when she stepped into the shade. On her head was a silver circle of a crown with a single red jewel in the middle of her forehead.
She spoke in a polite tone, but her words meant little to Mara or Luke...Vaiya, however, understood the gist.
“<Welcome....I am Iyala, Aide of Reyan, and Liason of the
Senate. I greet you.>”
Slowly, hesitantly, Vaiya answered. “<Many thanks, Aide
Iyala. We thank you for your greeting.>”
From behind her, Vaiya felt her mother’s mind begin to whirl.  Apparently, she had managed to retain some of her native language, or else it had all been upheaved in her memory with her recent experience. “I think you repeated yourself,” Mara whispered.
Iyala stepped closer to them, her expression heavily guarded.
“<You claim to be from Durran,>” she said, her tone patient, “<and
you speak our words, but you do not know them. What is your
purpose for coming here and risking our wrath by breaking our ban
against offworlders?>”
“<We are not offworlders,>” Mara said, broken but understandable. “<We have Durranian blood. I was taken...from my home here when I was only......ten and four years of age. I have only now been able to return. I ask to be permitted to visit my homeworld.
It is the place of my birth, and I...respect that.>”
Iyala came even closer. She gazed at Luke, and then at Vaiya,
her eyes focused hard on the pale color of their hair. “<This is your
husband and child,>” Iyala said. “<You have made family with
offworlders.>”
“<Yes,>” Mara said, stepping closer to Iyala, putting her hands
before her over her chest, a sign of respect she just barely
remembered. “<When I was taken, the ban had not been placed. I did
not know of the laws, but these are my family.>”
“<It was not your will to leave,>” Iyala said.
“<No.>”
“<But it is not your will to remain.>”
“<It is my will to know of my home,>” Mara said, a bit more feeling in her voice than she expected.
“<Your home is not here. Your home is with them.>” Iyala
faced her, her face a mask. Vaiya could sense that this was some sort
of a test. “<What do you hope to gain from this risk?>”
“<My home is with them, and their home is with me. I have
lived on their worlds and know of their history. I wish to let them
have knowledge of mine. Do your laws prevent this? Must I break
with my family in order to know my homeworld again?>”
Iyala’s mask-like face shifted slightly. “<Such a situation
would make it difficult.>”
“<A Durranian never breaks with family for any reason,>”
Mara said, “<It is against the code. It would be as wrong for me to
desert them to remain here as it would for me to desert here to be
with them. But if you asked me to choose, I would leave. I wish no
disrespect to the laws of my people.>”
Finally, the mask fell away, and Iyala smiled. Then she turned
to Vaiya. “<Child of offworlders, your mother speaks wisely. But now
I ask you, as you are the blood of Durran and of this stranger, where
does your loyalty lie?>”
“<My loyalty lies in the Will of Yejion,>” Vaiya said with grace she had obviously inherited from Leia. Luke felt himself smile as Iyala’s face seemed to glow.
“<You invoke the name of God,>” Iyala said. Then she backed
away. “<Then this is not the place for you. You must appeal to the
Church of Yejion for protection. They will not deny you.>” She
bowed, and then gazed at Vaiya again. “<I ask the honor of your
name.>”
“<Vaiya Jade Skywalker.>”
“<Life of the soul, your name means. Did you not know
this?>”
Vaiya cast a quick look at Mara and raised a delicate brow.
Mara simply stared back, mildly astounded.
“<I know little of my people outside of their religion, and my knowledge of that is limited as well,>” Vaiya replied. She sighed, feeling weary. She didn’t want all this attention. She just wanted to see Valeris.
“<Grana Vaiya,>” Iyala said, and Vaiya assumed the word
“Grana” was a term of respect, “<Perhaps you would grant me an
introduction to your father.>”
Finally, Iyala’s eyes rested on Luke. The expression in them was pure wonder. Vaiya turned. “<This is my father, Luke Skywalker.
He is what is called a Jedi Knight.>”
“<Jedi,>” Iyala said, turning the word over. “<Such a beautiful
word. He holds himself like a priest.>”
“What did she say?” Luke whispered.
“She said that you hold yourself like a priest.” Vaiya’s mind
began to whirl in spite of her exhaustion. “Valeris told me that the Yejion Priests were trained in the Psyenergy. They’re almost exactly like Jedi.”
“<Forgive, Grana Vaiya, for I know that your father does not
speak our language. But perhaps you could tell him that if he wished,
he could learn from the Yejion Priests. If he is strong in the
Psyenergy, he could learn in a short time.>”
Luke cocked and eyebrow. “I think we need to appeal to the priests,” Vaiya said, and then turned to Mara, who was looking around her, her face nearly glazed over from the effort it took to take everything in. “Iyala said they would be able to grant us protection.”
“I hope they’re friendly to offworlders,” Mara said, and then smiled at Iyala. “<Would you take us there?>” she asked.
Iyala smiled and nodded. “<Gladly. The Priests have been
trying hard to have the ban lifted and bring offworlders to Durran
once again. They will be joyful in your presence.>” Iyala turned and
gave a few orders, and within a few minutes an oval shaped car
floated down to them. Iyala guestured for them to enter, and she
followed, taking the controls from the back. She sought out Vaiya’s
eyes, and then gently lifted her silver band of a crown to reveal a tiny
tattoo on the very peak of her forehead. It was a triangle with its sides
concaved in toward the center. She smiled. “<My uncle is priest of
Yejion. He consecrated me when I was an infant.>” Then she paused,
as if embarrassed. “<Perhaps I might ask, have you been
consecrated?>”
Vaiya puzzled over the word, “<consecrated.>” “<I do not believe so,>” she said apologetically.
Iyala shook her head. “<Do not worry, Grana Vaiya,>” she said. “<All that is needed for salvation is a willing and repentant heart. Everything else comes from that, and the Will of Yejion. In your heart, you are already His.>” The craft lifted into the air, and Vaiya watched as the grand buildings began to drift past her, wondering when she would get to see Valeris.
Patience, a soft murmuring voice soothed her. *All things in
patience.*
9--The Order of Yejion
The fact that everything had gone on so smoothly so far was starting to concern Mara as they approached the temple. It was a beautiful building, different from those around it. Instead of being paned with the frosted glass, it was smooth and simple, made of the heavy blackish-grey stone with thick white veins shooting through it, and in three of its lateral faces was a giant traingular window with mosaic-like patterns cut from multi-colored glass. The temple spread wider than the other buildings, and was even a bit taller, with a large portion of it cut out from one of its triangular faces. The wedge was lined with mirrored columns, an apparent rarity. A huge lawn surrounded it, dotted with small fruit trees and flowers that were all some variant of yellow or orange.
“<This is the First Temple,>” Iyala explained as they neared it.
“<None of the other temples are as ornate at this one. But all of them
are designed like this. The flowers grow only on this continent...they
cannot be found anywhere else on our entire world.>”
Mara contemplated the temple, trying not to feel awed. Yes, this place was definitely special, but it was not exactly what she had been looking for. She turned to Vaiya, but the girl was practically enraptured, as if the temple were the physical manifestation of a vision that had haunted her forever.
“<How soon will we land?>” Vaiya asked eagerly.
Iyala picked up a small speaker beside the controls and began
speaking into it hastily, her words flying a little too fast for them to
follow. Finally, she turned to them. “<Elder Yreyn has given us
permission to land in the main port. He will greet us there.>” She
looked a little awed. “<He said he’s been expecting you.>”
Right now, Mara didn’t find that too surprising.
The inside of the temple was rather simple. It was much bigger than it looked from the outside, for it turned out that the entire pyramid was being supported by smaller columns so that the place had a very airy feel. The mirrored columns that lined the wedge that had been cut from the front of the pyramid were the size of  the gaint redwoods on Yavin, maybe even a bit bigger. It even turned out to have more than one floor—where the four windows shed their light was actually a separate room, the highest temple reserved strictly for worship. It was even called “the Place of Yejion.”
Elder Yreyn reminded Vaiya instantly of Valeris. He wore the same kind of simple linen robe, reminiscent of the old garb that the Jedi had once worn. Father whispered something to her about Ben Kenobi, and Vaiya could see the possible resemblence. However, this man’s silvery hair topped dark-toned skin. In fact, compared to any of the Durranian natives, the Skywalker family was positively pale.
“<Greetings, Walkers of Sky,>” the Elder said, and Vaiya felt
a sudden burst of amusement from both her parents. The Elder simply
smiled, and directed his attention on Mara. “<Greetings, lost child of
Jade. In the name of Yejion, we welcome you back to your home.>”
Mara placed her hands over her chest and gave a slight bow.
“<Thank you, Elder Yreyn. But I fear that our coming may only give
you trouble.>”
“<In the House of Yejion, there is never trouble, for all things are in Peace with Him.>” The Elder smiled, but there was a touch of weariness on his face. “<I am glad that Iyala has brought you here.  You will be safe from persecution by the Council, I can promise you.
They would not dare to exile you from this house.>” He then turned
to the people who surrounded him at a distance and gave a few orders
to bring fresh robes and water. Then he escourted them deeper into
the temple, into a large room with plush chairs colored the tones of
the flowers outside. “<Please rest,>” he implored them. “<We will
prepare a meal for you. Surely the distance has made you hungry.>”
Mara allowed herself to settle into one of the chairs, and Luke followed suit, still following the conversation strictly by emotion. The Elder approached him and sat down before him, and Mara could sense him stretching out with his mind. Luke responded, but it was an effort, and finally the Elder reached out with his hand, and Luke placed his on top of it.
Gron Skywalker, the Elder sent, *You are a Jedi. This is
known to us, even if the order has not existed on this world for a
hundred years. We welcome you, and we offer you a gift. Our native
tongue.*
Mara watched in astonishment as the Elder sent Luke the entire language through the Force. It took several minutes...in fact, by the time they parted, the food had arrived and Vaiya had already dug into it.
“Welcome,” the Elder suddenly said in basic, and he turned to Mara and Vaiya. “Is this how you always speak?”
“Usually,” Vaiya replied, wiping her mouth. “The rest of the galaxy uses it to keep things simple.”
“I have heard it before,” the Elder said. “It becomes more familiar the more I speak it. But it has only been a half a century. Not long enough to be completely forgotten.”
Mara sighed. “<Forgive me,>” she said, looking at the Elder,
“<but I must confess that I am impatient. Isn’t there supposed to be
something more to this? I mean, Aide Iyala gave me a big test when
we landed here, talking about loyalty and family and everything and I
can’t help but wonder...there has to be something more to this. I mean,
it can’t be this simple.>”
“<Simple things make you distrustful,>” Elder Yreyn said,
trying to hold back a smile. He turned to Vaiya. “<And you, child. Do
you find all of this simple?>”
Vaiya turned her attention back to the conversation, having
been lost in the beauty around her, as well as resisting the urge to get
up and find the way to the higher temple, the Place of Yejion Iyala
had told her about. “<I feel I do not know enough to judge,>” she
said. “<But I confess, I wish to see my Great Grandfather, Valeris,
again, as soon as possible.>”
At the name, the Elder stiffened. “<Elder Valeris...he still
lives? By the Spirit, he must be at least a hundred and twenty by
now.>”
“<Yes, he was the one who gave me shelter in the desert when
I first came here, and taught me about Yejion.>”
The man smiled. “<The old hermit always was a teacher at heart. Did he tell you why he was exiled?>” he asked, casting a glance at Mara.
“<He opposed the ban on offworlders after his grand-daughter was kidnapped,>” Vaiya replied.
“<That is only half the tale. Valeris was the only Elder ever exiled. We tried to give him protection here, but he would not stay.
The real reason he is in the desert is because he was told to go. He
was the last of the great Mystics of our Order, and he had a vision of
Durran becoming the seat of a new order, one that brought back the
days of the Jedi. He believed that the one would come who would
return Faith to the Jedi Knights, the one Yejion had chosen to
proclaim His Power.>” Elder Yreyn sighed. “<The Jedi placed so
much on visions. It was part of their downfall. They paid too much
attention to detail. Every dream becomes a vision, and that is simply
not the case.>” Then he glanced at them all. “<If you are of Valeris’
blood, then perhaps you, too, have visions.>”
“<The Force,>” Luke said, his voice low but confident, “<is
filled with visions. It shows a Jedi the past and the future. Jedi
Knights are trained to pay close attention to visions. Even seek
them.>”
Mara gave a little snort. Elder Yreyn said, “<While not in itself wrong, Jedi Skywalker, this path can be dangerous. Visions are unreliable many times when they do not come from Yejion. Valeris had visions all the time in his youth, until he was nearly driven mad.
He had to learn that many times they could not be taken literally, and
sometimes they must be ignored altogether. But when Yejion began
to send His messengers to him in his visions, it was then that he
learned what was truth and what was not. Only then did he retreated
to the desert. To wait, perhaps, for you, Vaiya Jade Skywalker.>”
Vaiya sighed and rubbed her temples. “<Perhaps,>” she said,
suddenly feeling very tired. “<Visions can be a bigger burden than
many believe.>”
Luke looked at Mara, remembering the vision he had had of her before she had lost her memory. She had been wearing the same clothes, right down to the boots. She had looked at him with the same hatred as she had many years ago. But in the vision, she had tried to kill him. It had not come to pass...perhaps it was only a symbol.
“<Yes, filled with symbols,>” Yreyn agreed, as if reading
Luke’s thoughts. “<Symbols can deceive us. The destroyer wishes us
to distort them so that evil comes to pass. Perhaps you have heard of
the cult of the destroyer? They swim in their visions. Those who are
false prophets always cry that they have had visions. It makes
prophecy quite weak and unreliable.>”
Luke felt himself nodding. Yes, many old Jedi prophesies had been distorted by false visions. And prophesies themselves were as plentiful as the stars in the sky.
“<Then what are we do to?>” Mara asked, her voice suddenly small.
“<Pray for guidence to discern,>” the Elder replied. He
glanced at Vaiya. “<Perhaps you would stay here some time before
you return to Valeris in the desert? There is much that we can teach
you here that perhaps you could not learn from him.>” He stood up
and walked over to her. “How old are you, child?>”
“<A few months past sixteen,>” she replied.
He started a bit. “<That young? You seem older.>” Then,
gently, he touched her forehead with his thumb, right where her hair
peaked on her forehead. “<You profess faith in Yejion...has Valeris
consecrated you to Him?>”
Subconsciously, Mara touched her forehead. An old memory came to mind, but it was too foggy to discern it.
“<I do not know of what you speak,>” Vaiya said with a frown, but then remembered the mark on Iyala’s forehead. “<He did not give me the mark,>” she offered.
Elder Yreyn nodded. “<I urge you to stay with us some time,
then,>” he continued. “<I believe that Valeris would agree.>”
Vaiya considered this. She looked at her parents, and took in
the look on her mother’s face. “<I believe,>” she said after a few
moments, “<that first, we should find Valeris. My mother has waited
a long time to be reunited with her family. And I wish to see him
again. But I promise to return as soon as possible.>”
“<That is acceptable. Do you wish to leave now or to wait
until the morning?>”
“I don’t know about you, Mara, but I’m exhausted,” Luke said, reaching out for Mara’s hand. Mara looked back at him and nodded.
“Me, too,” she sighed. “I can wait one more night.” She turned to Vaiya. “Is that all right with you?”
Vaiya nodded, and felt herself getting ready to yawn. “Works
for me,” she said. “<Elder Yreyn, perhaps first I might be allowed to
see the main temple?>”
The man nodded. “<Although you cannot take part in the service without consecration, you are always welcome to observe.
Come with me.>”
10--Symbol Stew
The morning light was beautiful as it streaked through the colored panes of glass. Vaiya knelt on the soft pillow she had brought with her in a pool of blue light that spilled onto the floor. She had been meditating for an hour now, and all she could find was this feeling of peace.
It was far from a bad feeling, as far as she could possibly get.  But she had sought something more concrete, something deeper. The service had been wonderful, but being unable to participate had kept something from her.
For the first time in forever, Vaiya was jealous of her mother.  Late the other night, Vaiya had been called into her parents chambers and had found Mara in the refresher, staring into the mirror with delight. It was an unusual sight, and even more unusual circumstances. A small lock of red hair lay on the rim of the sink, and Vaiya could see that Mara had shaved it from the peak of her forehead, and underneath the shaved hair was the same symbol that had graced Iyala’s forehead—the triangle with the sides concaved in.
So she had been consecrated, probably in her infancy. It turned out that all the followers of Yejion were consecrated in infancy, and that the lock of hair was continually shaved back throughout a follower’s lifetime. Luke laughed about how the old Mara would have been outraged that such a thing had been done to her outside of her will, and that Mara gave her pledge to no one but whom Mara chose to give it to. In response, Mara had playfully hurled her brush at him.
Of course, it had been a long time, and Mara knew nothing about what lay behind the symbol. She was kept back from participating in the service as well until she could be “re-educated.” That soothed Vaiya’s jealousy a little.
Of course, the fact that she felt that everyone was suddenly out of character was enough to throw her balance off. But she had grown used to adjusting to her parents’ mood swings. The fact that they had suddenly decided to follow Vaiya on her quest for religion would have been surprising under ordinary circumstances, but now that she was beginning to learn about a thing called grace, she didn’t feel the need to question anyone.
Except maybe herself.
She wished she could see Valeris.
There were a few oddly comforting things that were familiar.
The first thing Mara had done that morning was begin her investigation about Callista’s child. It was hard, because even though the temple wasn’t isolated from the mainstream by any stretch of the imagination, the fact that they were offworlders, tolerated solely because they were under the protection of the Order of Yejion, was enough to badger their search. Iyala, who had returned as soon as the temple had opened, had offered to take up Mara’s search outside the temple walls. Elder Yreyn promised to do what he could, but no one really had any idea how much that promise meant.
Vaiya kept her suspicions to herself. Elder Yreyn was a fine man. Obviously, he and Valeris had once been friends. But as for influence...well, it was hard to tell.
She shut her eyes and took several deep breaths. All of Yreyn’s words about visions danced through her head, and she tried to focus solely on the sense of peace inside of her. She used her old Force meditation techniques, hoping to expand them outward as she had done in the past. But it seemed that Yejion had other plans for her. As she contemplated all the many things she had learned over the last months, she tried to fit them together so that they formed some sort of pattern. She was trying to discern whether or not to go running out to Valeris now, or to wait, and was rather enjoying the peace of the meditation when she did have a vision.
It was brief, but very clear. As if someone were showing her a hologram of a person, only the person was in the flesh. A man in black stood some distance before her, his face a mask of red and black lines, all reaching for his forehead and the blunted crown of horns that grew from his skull. His eyes were not on her, but looking off in the distance, and seemed almost reptilian in nature. His mouth was set in a dangerous sneer, but it seemed to lack inner conviction.
Then, slowly, the eyes turned to her. Instead of glowing a bright yellow-green, they darkened into a rich shade of forrest green.  The angry line of his mouth softened, and his entire face seemed to shift, as if lifting the mask from it even though it was still painted on.  She saw a human being under the mask, or rather, right through it, as if the mask were not there, even though it was, plainly.
She opened her eyes. The sun was already reaching its climax, and her stomach was rumbling. For a moment, however, all she could do was stare into the empty space around her, trying to gather herself together. The vision had not disturbed her, but she felt as if a fascinating puzzle had just been ripped from her grip. It was only when Luke’s light footsteps approached that she stirred from her position on the floor.
“They’re getting ready to serve lunch,” Luke said as he approached his daughter. “I don’t know if you can smell it from up here, but it reminds me of the barbecues my uncle used to have when I was young, right after harvest.” He glanced up at the beautiful temple columns and through the heavy windows. At the peak of the room, there was a beautiful altar carved high into the wall, gently framed with a thick purple and crimson curtain made of some soft material they called “velvet.” Niether Luke or Vaiya understood the altar and what it contained, but they respected it, and kept their voices low.
Vaiya looked up at her father. The clothes that the Durranians had given them were all the same—plain white linen trousers, and simple tunics, each dyed a different color. Luke wore some sort of dark blue, Mara’s was green, and Vaiya’s was a rich red-violet. The linen seemed to be a specialty of the city, and it was very comfortable. The fact that the colors were right for each of them was something Vaiya chose to dismiss. The fact that they had not been given any shoes was something she noticed.
“Do you like it here?” she whispered, brushing the last of the needles from the muscles in her knees from kneeling too long.
“What’s not to like?” Luke asked, slightly dreamy. “They treat us like kings, Vaiya. Or should I say, queens. Mara is happier than I’ve ever seen her, although we’re still searching for...” and he paused, almost hesitating to give Callista’s son his adopted name, “Valery.”
Vaiya shook her head. “I like it too, but...I don’t know. Some things don’t make sense. I mean, you used to tell me that Obi-Wan Kenobi used to appear to you and talk to you, and that you saw Yoda and your own father during the celebration of the Rebel Victory. Why didn’t any of them ever tell you about this?”
Luke contemplated that for a moment. Then he said, “I never spoke to Yoda or my father. Leia saw him once, and he spoke to her, but that wasn’t much. Ben and I only had two or three real conversations, and in both cases we never talked much about the afterlife. Right before I met your mother, he told me he was moving on, that he was leaving me to go deeper into the Force. Maybe because of the way he’d spent his life, fighting for the right cause but ignorant of the real truth, he was being given time to make up for that. Maybe it was a kind of...purification for him. Maybe even in his death he was still having to search. I don’t know.” Luke looked down at her, slightly perplexed. “There are a lot of things about this that I don’t understand, Vaiya. But I am going to stay and learn as much as I can. I just...know that it’s right. It’s not just a feeling. It’s more than that.”
“Grace,” Vaiya whispered.
“Maybe.” He paused. “What about you? Are you going to stay,
or are you going to go find Valeris?”
Vaiya took a deep breath. “Mother needs to find him,” she said. “I will go with her first, but I will return as soon as she finds him. I, too, want to learn more. I want to be consecrated.” Then her voice took on an errie quality. “I have to be, if I’m going to endure the trials ahead.”
Luke touched her shoulder. “Did you see something?” he asked.
Vaiya turned to him and gave him a small grin. “I’m trying to take all my visions with a grain of salt, Father,” she said wryly. “After all, I haven’t exactly had the best of luck.”
11--Seth
He came out of the vision with a start. That was not what he had expected. It disturbed him. Hell, it didn’t just disturb him. It shook him to the heart.
But that was what they were waiting for, the five of them. For the last fifty years, they had been waiting to pounce, and they might get their chance, if that Cal Saphringer got his fingers any deeper into their spines. They had already bestowed upon him their mystical favors. How much longer before they moved to make him their focus?  Before Cal usurped him and took on the red and black mask?
Of course, it was not his by right. He had received it when he was rather young, for the oldest, Darth Knar, had thought that he had great potential. He was the only one as strong and as skilled as Maul in the art of combat, and he had a trait that Maul had abandoned in favor of using the art of fear. The art of seduction was more useful to the Cult of the Destroyer. It accomplished their purpose. Maul had posessed it early in his life, but had badly abused it. His leaving had been inevitable—even Seth had seen it, as young as he was. Maul was too focused on power. He cared very little for the honor the cult.  Although he would never admit to being so power-hungry, like Darth Sidious had been. He claimed he desired revenge on the Jedi for what they had done to the Sith, even encouraged the cult to take up the cause. But no, that was not what the cult had wanted to do, and in an effort to gain power over their leader, they had chosen Seth, barely a man, to be their leader.
Their puppet.
Darth Seth stepped down from the ledge, away from the
dizzying view of the stars. Saphringer’s ship was definitely worthy of their presence, with its twists and turns, its core a labyrinth of catwalks above the endless abyss of space, with only a forcefield between a falling victim and the infinity beyond. How many enemies did the man have to employ such a trap? But the sith cult had no fear of falling, not with their dark Force powers.
He rather liked it here. It gave him a feeling he was beginning to miss. An awe for the universe around him, something his brothers felt was overrated. After all, the Destroyer was going to turn all to chaos. Why glory in something that was destined to fall?
That was why they thought he was weak. Because he posessed something they sneered at called “sentiment.” Perhaps they were right...a decade ago he would not have dared admit the fact to himself, but the vision he had just had had thrown off his discipline, and he found himself not just admitting the thought but reveling in it.
What they thought were his weaknesses, he told himself, were actually his strengths. After all, he had survived as leader of the cult for so many years, more than any other leader. Most had been cut down by traitors or outsiders. Patience and prudence had kept them safe, kept them hidden from other dark lords who wished to rule over them for their own ambitions—sith lords like Palpatine, Vader, and even Maul, their own brother.
Yet none of this would soothe his shaking heart.
The vision had been quick and fierce. A woman with hair the
color of honey and eyes like blue gems was standing before him, the same woman who had haunted his dreams for his entire life. In some she was almost an angel, come to claim vengence on him, and then finding herself unable to because his hands were unstained with blood. The only blood he had ever claimed were those of the animals the cult had used to gain power. And he found in those dreams that he was proud of his purity in spite of his dark magicks and tainted Force abilities.
In other visions she was a wanton woman, begging him to take her and make the child that would consume them all in glorious chaos. In others still, she was a warrior, defeating all who came near her, but melting at his very touch. In some dreams he had to work hard to seduce her, dominate her, even break her. But in all of them, he found himself loving her with an intensity that felt like it would rip his heart from his chest.
Childish dreams, many of them. But relentless in their coming. They would not leave him, and so he waited, even against the cult’s wishes. He waited for her. She was his destiny.
This vision was different.
She was dressed in the purple garb that they had saved for her
for three hundred years. In her hands, she bore a lightsaber that looked almost like Maul’s, but the blades that came from it were a bright violet. She swung the blade, and the cult was brought down in a mass of light. Then she turned to him, and he begged her to strike him down as well, for now he was weak and helpless. Without the cult, he had no power. Instead, she put away her saber, and turned.
And left him. Alone.
Seth shut his eyes and forced the vision back. He would not
yield. Even though they wanted him to, even though they waited to tear him down, to destroy him, he would not relent. He was not weak, not like they said. He had been given the horns for a purpose. They were his by destiny’s right. The Destroyer had chosen him; it was not the default that the others believed. He was in his rightful place. The cult had survived twice as long under his leadership than under any other. No other leader could boast of that. And it was all because of his weakness that they had survived, his “lack of ambition,” his “lack of bloodthirst.” Let them sneer at it, but they owed their very lives to him.
As Seth turned away from the dark chasm below, he made himself believe it yet again. And just like every other time, the stone shield of his soul was given yet another crack.
“Are you sure this is the place?” Mara asked as they leapt from the speeder and followed Vaiya over to the low stone wall that looked like little more than a giant rock sticking out of the sand.
“I’m sure,” she said, and used the Force to feel out the door and push it open. Gently, she dropped to the floor of the old cathedral, showing her mother and father how to follow her.
For a moment, Vaiya was lost in her memories, and half expected Larin to step from the shadows and welcome her home. But the moment passed. Larin was...well, only Yejion knew. And she was here. And she had a few introductions to make.
She made her way through the dark tunnel, and saw the warm glow of firelight from the main hearth. Almost unconscious of her parents’ presence behind her, she stepped into the large room, her eyes scanning the ring of large chairs that surrounded the hearth.
In his usual chair sat Valeris. He looked up, his eyes catching the glow from the firelight and reflecting it in the green orbs. He smiled...it wasn’t such a rarity to see Valeris smile, but the kind of smile made Vaiya’s heart leap with joy.
She went to him and embraced him. “I have come back like I promised,” she whispered, “and I’ve brought someone with me.”
“I know. I’ve been waiting.” Valeris looked up at his granddaughter, and Vaiya swore he saw tears on his cheeks. “Mara?” he said, his voice uncharacteristically hoarse with emotion. “After all these years...it is you.”
Mara was struck speechless, but they could feel her joy through the Force. She took one step forward and threw her arms around her grandfather’s neck.
She was finally home.
12--Eighteen
Life traveled slowly, but the months were full. Mara stayed with her grandfather for a long time, at least six months, and ventured out only when Vaiya was consecrated in the First Temple. The peak of her hair was shaved back and the golden lock was braided and cast into the small spring that ran underneath the temple, a sign of Vaiya’s burial of her old life. On the bare skin the seal of Yejion was placed, painlessly and joyously, as the tiny needle made a swift, curving stroke against her skin. Iyala, who had stayed close to Vaiya during her instruction, had gladly taken the honor of her spokesperson, declaring that Vaiya was ready to being her new life as Yejion’s follower. She even placed the silver ring with the dark purple stone on her forehead, an object to be worn only in times of celebration.  Iyala was the only one who wore hers constantly, for reasons even Vaiya didn’t quite understand, but felt she had plenty of time to learn.
Mara and Luke began the long process of gaining acceptance on the Durranian world. Because Luke was the brother of the Chief of State, apparently his word carried some weight, and the Durranian council agreed to begin negotiations to open their world back up to offworlders. At first, Luke was amazed at how easy that had seemed, but then became aware of the fact that just because the city of  Reyan had agreed to think about it didn’t mean it would be done in any small time.
Ambassadors were sent to Durran by the New Republic, and Luke and Mara, after making sure that everything could go on smoothly without them, and after Valeris’ refusal to return to the main temple even though he had come for Vaiya’s consecration, returned to Yavin IV. The whole trip kept them from the rest of the galaxy for nine months.
There was one Elder, who was probably the youngest, named Syrian, who was the only one among them who carried a lightsaber.  Vaiya had been introduced to him before she had been consecrated, but until her parents left, they had not met again. One evening, he came to her after services.
He was not exactly handsome by most standards, but he had a physical presense to him that Vaiya found rather striking. He was much darker than any of his fellow Durranians. In fact, he was such a deep, rich brown that he made everyone else look positively pale, and Vaiya herself as white as the veins in the grey stone that surrounded them. Perhaps that was what made him the most striking, she thought.  He had a very low, gentle voice, but she had heard him yell once or twice and did not relish to ever be on the receiving end of it. He seemed almost a bit too large in his muscular frame to be able to exhibit the spritely qualities, but she had watched him practice his lightsaber skills with a few protegees and found him to be extremely gifted in his movements.
“<Greetings, Grana Vaiya,>” he said, placing one hand on his heart in respect. Vaiya quickly placed both hands over her heart in deferrence. She was hardly a guest, but she lived in the temple purely at the pleasure of the Order.
“<Greetings, Elder Syrian,>” she replied, rising.
“<Perhaps you may find me to be slightly...presumptuous,>”
he said, and it was nearly amusing to watch this big man show
bashfulness. “<But I have come to you for a reason. I know that you
are what they call a Jedi. I was wondering if you were planning on
continuing your physical training.>”
Vaiya found herself searching for the right words. “<I have
been trained since the day I was born,>” she replied. “<I felt that my
spiritual growth needed more attention.>”
“<That is very true, and one must always grow spiritually.>”
He took a deep breath, as if deciding to just blurt it out. Vaiya was
sensing some heavy overtones from him. Apparently, he was not
liking what it was he had to say, but he was compelled to say it. “<But
physical skills are also necessary. They keep the discipline ripe, and
they cannot be allowed to atrophy. Forgive my arrogance, Grana
Vaiya, but I must request, as an instructor in the physical arts of the
Psyenergy, that you return to your training. I will give you two hours
of my time every morning. I would simply request it, but I am afraid
that I have been given strict instructions that you attend, and cannot
risk your refusal, which I can feel that you are about to give me.>”
Vaiya listened carefully, feeling Syrian’s emotions. Yes, he
was right, she would have refused. But the way he put it...it was so
urgent. She sighed. “<Very well, Elder Syrian. I appreciate your
bluntness, I honestly do. My father would agree with you. He and I
practiced a little while he was here, and he almost didn’t leave
because he knew I had no intention to return to it.>”
“<Yes, I saw you and your father practicing. You are
extremely gifted, Vaiya. You are called to be a warrior, that I can
see.>”
“<Wars do not make one great,>” she replied softly.
“<No, but we do not seek to be great in the Order or Yejion.
We seek only to serve. Some of us are called to physical service.
Perhaps there is a great trial awaiting you. You are not even eighteen
years of age. Your whole future still lies before you uncertain.>” He
smiled, showing large, brilliant white teeth. “<In this place, it is very
easy to think of life as only one day at a time. It is something we must
strive to remember when we are outside in the world.>”
Vaiya found herself smiling. He couldn’t be too much older than her, maybe a decade. He reminded her a little of Larin...and then she had to push the thought out of her mind. Lately, the thought of Larin disturbed her.
“<Did I say something to offend?>” Syrian suddenly asked, his eyes wide.
“<No, Elder. I was simply thinking about the past.>”
Syrian clucked his tongue. “<The past and the future are the
greatest hinderences in life. Come, perhaps we shall begin a few
lessons tonight. There is nothing like exhausting yourself with
exercise to make you forget about yourself.>”
Vaiya nodded and followed. It didn’t sound like such a bad idea.
For the next year, Vaiya trained with Syrian. He taught her many things—how to stay focused, how to concentrate on more than several things at once, and even how to wound with a lightsaber without killing. That one, Vaiya had a feeling, would prove to be the most useful.    During those months, Vaiya lived in the temple like one of the Elders, attending services and meditating daily. The Elders lived together like a group of monks, and had their own separate quarters, but there were others, both men and women, who served the Elders and lived in a similar way to them, even though they could not perform the rituals like the Elders could. There were also no women Elders...Vaiya found that curious, but she did not sense any inequality between the Elders and the older women of the small community.  The entire feel of the place was that the greatest among them was the one who served everyone else.
During this time of training and prayer, Vaiya built her own lightsaber.
It was a slow process, because Vaiya could not figure out how to build it. She began with a simple, single blade, pale violet in color and very beautiful. Purple seemed to stay with her—even the clothes that were provided for her were some shade of purple. They had given her her own sort of uniform when she had been consecrated, a pair of simple black trousers and a tunic made of a thin version of the thick velvet that graced the al