Timeline--30 years after Visions of the Future

    Spoilers and Disclaimers: Episode One, and everything Zahn. I own nothing here that Lucasfilm has copywrited. I'm just having fun, no money being made here. Fun is its own reward. If you're reading this, though, you will be confused if you haven't read any of MOSAIC.

This is a sequel to Mosaic, which can be found in its completion on either the LMS website, the Star Wars Database, Episode Jade, or Fanfix.
 
 

     Former Chief of State Leia Organa Solo, who was also an official Jedi Knight even if no
one ever addressed her with the title, stood on the landing platform, eagerly awaiting Mara's
arrival. Maybe a few decades ago she would have been nervous asking such an immense favor
from the former Emperor's Hand, but not now. Mara was family, as well as a Jedi Master. Few
realized that the woman was rather eager to help the New Republic heal the wounds her former
master had inflicted upon them. Some of those wounds ran so deep they were only just being
discovered.
     Leia sighed and ran a hand through her graying hair. She was well into her sixties now,
past the half way mark on the stretch to seventy. She had only recently retired her position as
Chief of State, and now her son Jacen, every bit the diplomat as his mother, was running for
election as her replacement. The boy was forty--forty! Although those who were strong in the
Force aged much slower and he still only looked thirty, the mere thought made Leia feel very
old.
     She glanced over her shoulder. She could only image how Han felt, being a few years
into his seventies. He wasn't a Force-sensitive, but he was still lively for his age. Of course, in
some ways, Han still had yet to grow up. The thought made her smile. At least some things
would never change.
     A heavy shadow fell over her, and Leia glanced up to see the Jaded Sky II, a ship that
bore a ghostly resemblance to the Falcon, hovering over the levitating landing platform, its
thrusters firing and its landing legs extending toward the bay. Leia watched as Mara expertly
piloted the ship into its final position, and within a few minutes the hatch swung open and the
ramp stretched down.
     It had been a little while since she'd laid eyes on Mara in the flesh--maybe a year or
more. She remembered the shock she'd experienced at Vaiya's wedding, seeing how their years
had been stripped from them, leaving them both only a bit older looking than their own children.
She tried not to feel resentment, knowing that her own youth had been spent fighting in the
Rebellion, that she had rarely been able to enjoy it as the Skywalkers were now doing. But as
Mara exited her ship, barely looking 34 even though she was actually 64, the woman did not
seem so happy and bright as they had been all that time ago.
     Her red-gold hair was pulled back into a thick braid that fell down her back, and she was
dressed in her Jedi black leggings and sleeveless top, and her green jacket with its bright gold
braids running down the arms. She was pulling her gloves off her hands as she approached, a
troubled expression on her face.
     "Hello, Leia," Mara said, her face falling into the usual amused sardonic expression she
usually wore with the greeting. "Or should I address you as Jedi Organa Solo?"
     Leia smiled. That was Mara. "I'm surprised you haven't tried to call me Princess," she
said. "What are you going by nowadays, anyway? Now that you're an official Jedi Master and
all."
     Mara smirked. "We decided on Master Jade. Since Luke goes by Master Luke to the
more familiar students, I was going to take Master Skywalker, but everyone automatically thinks
of Luke for that title."
     "Yes, I know you still call him Skywalker, even after all these years."
     "Only when he makes me mad...or I just feel like it." She sighed, running a hand through
the staying bangs on her forehead. "Then there's Master Mara...or Mistress Mara. But the latter is
what Threepio calls me and the former just doesn't sound right." She shrugged. "What's in a
name, anyway? By any other name, I'm still me." The troubled expression returned to her smooth
features. "At least, I think I am."
     They turned and began their trek to Leia's waiting shuttle. "I thought you sounded a little
too eager to come here," Leia commented. "But you grew up here, didn't you?"
     "Yes," Mara said, glancing around at the large, brightly lit spires of the planet-city around
her. "I do get homesick every once in a while. But I thought coming here for a more extended
visit would do me some good." They entered the shuttle and settled into their seats.
     Leia murmured in the back of her throat. "I'm surprised Luke didn't come with you."
     Mara grunted. "To be really honest...I'm glad he didn't."
     Leia cocked an eyebrow. "Problems?"
     "No," Mara replied, and instantly Leia relaxed. They'd been married for almost thirty
years now, and Leia had been planning a small celebration for them. Of course, Luke and Mara's
marriage had worked out so extraordinarily well despite all the criticism the match had received
that it would break her heart if they had trouble *now,* of all times.
     "Then what?"
     Mara shrugged, and Leia noticed that the woman was distinctly uncomfortable, as if her
own skin just didn't fit right. "Ever since this happened to us, Leia...you know, it's been seven
years, and only now it's starting to get to me. I just blew it off at first and figured I'd grow into
this new youth thing. I figured the discomfort would wear off, and for a while it did. But what
happened to us...I mean, the amount dark side energy that it took to regenerate our cells like this!
It just gives me the creeps. I feel like I've gone some sort of...taint...I don't know." She sighed.
"Listen to me, I've become a walking bundle of neurosis. I think Skywalker and I switched brains
at some point over the last thirty years."
     Leia smiled. "Everything catches up with us eventually, Mara. But what do you want to
do about it?"
     "I think I was hoping to find out some information about this process, maybe figure out
what some of the sideaffects are. The Cult of the Destroyer isn't exactly around to answer my
questions. Maybe Palpatine has some data on them lying around in those old rusty databanks
somewhere. Who knows, maybe he had some dealings with them at some point. After all, both
parties were dedicated to evil."
     "But different kinds," Leia pointed out. "I have to ask you, Mara, wasn't the cult into
magic and things like that?"
     Mara snorted. "There is no such thing as magic, Leia. All the cult did was manipulate
dark side energy. That much I've been able to unearth, thanks to Drianna's help. There's a bunch
of stuff on them in the Durranian libraries. But I'm looking more into the history of the sith. I
just don't like the idea of the dark side having manipulated us like this, even if it was just
chemical."
     Leia grunted. "Maybe the dark side and the light side don't lie in the energy of the Force
itself," she suggested, "but in the purpose. Maybe that's why you and Luke, even though you
were immersed in all the dark side of the Force, weren't touched by it."
     "Weren't we?" Mara asked, her voice distant.
     Leia squeezed her hand, a gesture she rarely used on Mara, who was not such a touchy-
feely person. To her surprise, Mara did not pull away. Instead, she brightened.
     "Vaiya would tell me to have faith," Mara whispered. She gave a small laugh. "Of course,
Vaiya also talked to angels at one point."
     Leia gave her a little frown. "You know, I never did quite get why you of all people
bought into that Durranian religion so quickly. I mean, I can see why Luke did. It just fits his
personality, I guess, his willingness to serve the higher powers."
     "Yeah, Luke had a lot of faith. Just the Force...I never thought it was enough for him.
That's kind of how he wound up walking down the dark path for a while, seeking the power to
take care of everyone because he didn't think everyone could take care of themselves. Trusting in
a supreme God for him came naturally. It took a lot of the burden from him, and at the same
time gave him a more focused purpose." She smiled. "I've never seen him so happy."
     "Then what about you? You didn't even think much of Jedi Knights for a long time, let
alone the Force. After Palpatine I would think you wouldn't trust anything that claimed to be
supreme and infallible."
     Mara shrugged. "I was raised in the Durranian Faith, Leia. It was a part of who I was.
And after finding Valeris again...I don't know. I've grown rather attached to trusting in people.
Another thing to blame Skywalker for." She gave Leia a conspiratorial little smile. "Don't tell
anyone, Leia, but I spent a lot of years pretending to be something I wasn't. I was what the
Emperor wanted me to be, not myself. Sure, all of that is a part of me and always will be...but I
like who I am now. I like that I have a family I love and loyalties I can trust myself to as well as
protect." She paused. "But to quote my only beloved daughter yet again, I think in the end it's
just pure grace."
     "Well," Leia said, "then what are you worried about? I don't sense any dark side in you."
     Mara's grin lessened. "Yes, that's what everyone tells me. But I have a feeling that there
are answers here that I need to know. I don't know, something is pulling me here...the fact that
you asked me to come here and do this was more than coincidence."
     Leia nodded. "I understand. So did you want to get settled in or would you like to just get
right to it?"
     "If you're good to go, I'm ready," Mara said. "I slept enough on the way here to last me a
week. Trust me, I'm wanting to get busy."
     Leia reached forward and pulled out a datacard and inserted it into the commboard.
"Okay, then let me start from the beginning to make sure there are no communication gaps.
What do you know about the New Jedi Council that's been trying to form?"
     "That they asked you to join, but they didn't ask Luke," Mara said, a caustic tone to her
voice. "They don't like his belief in a supreme God being the author of the Force. They want to
shut down the academy, or at least make us change the name because they don't think we're
being true to the Force or to the legacy of the Jedi Knights, which no one really knows about
because we all know that Palpatine had all Jedi relics destroyed. All we know about the old
order of Jedi is that they had a council, of which Yoda was once the head."
     Leia nodded. "Yes, they figured that asking me would give the council the Skywalker
balance. They want Luke to join, I think, because he was after all the first of the new order of
Jedi, the one to bring them back. But they can't reconcile themselves to his strong religious
convictions so they asked me instead." She frowned at Mara. "How do you feel about not being
asked?"
     Mara snorted. "I couldn't even pick a title to go with Master," she said. "I don't want to be
on any council, trust me. That just leads to arrogance...." she paused, giving Leia a mildly
apologetic look. "Present company excepted, of course," she said. "And you've got lots of
leadership years behind you, too. You're ideal for it, Leia, trust me. I'm more mad about Luke not
getting asked than Luke is. He's thrilled that you're finally going to be taking some Jedi
responsibilities."
     "Yes, he told me," Leia said. "But the council has been floundering since it began four
years ago. I just want to get some research under my belt, figure out what happened to the
council that made it crumble like it did."
     "Palpatine happened," Mara pointed out dryly.
     "Yes, but how could the council have been so blind as to not see it coming?" Leia asked,
her hands spread wide. "Only arrogance leads to that kind of lack of foresight. Or maybe
something worse. I want to know the history so we don't repeat it."
     "And you think that this database has it?"
     "I'm hoping." Leia activated the datacard, showing old bits of the holonet news that had
been run on the recent discovery. "I don't know what prompted them to find this...it could have
been buried forever. It was located down near Coruscant's surface. It's a some sort of computer
database, rather old. It dates back to before the clone war, and has distinctly Naboo technology."
Leia gave Mara a little grin. "Naboo...poor Naboo...there's something about that place..."
     "Luke and I sensed it, too," Mara said, her voice low, almost as if in respect. "All of us
getting a strange Force-vibe from it might mean something. Although what I can't imagine, since
obviously not every Jedi gets it."
     "Palpatine was from Naboo," Leia suggested.
     "Palpatine also has this database encrypted pretty heavily," Mara muttered, scanning the
information on the datacard. "Maybe Ghent can crack it. He always says there's nothing he can't
slice."
     "Even if he does, how will we know what to make of what's inside?"
     "So you called me," Mara stated. "Which is fine. You know, I always wondered why you
guys never asked me more about all the stuff Palpatine had stashed here and there. It might have
saved you some real hassles."
     "I guess we always figured that when we needed to know, we could just ask. How much
more is there that you haven't told us about yet? Did you know about this place?"
     Mara was silent as she turned the thoughts and memories over in her head. "I knew a lot.
I was a bit like this database here, filled with all this information that Palpatine fed to me,
knowing I'd use it at some time or another. But a long time ago, Luke and I figured that Palpatine
foresaw that he would fall because of Luke, and that Luke and I would wind up together and
bring about a new order of Jedi Knights. That was why he ordered me to kill Luke, so that our
'relationship' would never happen."
     "Yes, Luke told me a bit about that," Leia said.
     "But if that was the case, he would never have fed me so much  information that it would
benefit the New Republic after he'd been defeated," Mara pointed out. "I didn't know about this
database. Yejion knows how much more I don't know about."
     Leia was silent for a long minute. "Mara," she finally said, using her Force-born instincts,
"if you think that the Emperor wanted to prevent you and Luke from ever coming together, do
you have any theories as to...why?"
     The look on Mara's face--the one she had seen earlier, that strange, haunted look--
returned. Mara's green eyes turned on her and Leia felt herself repressing a shudder.
     "Whatever reason he had," she said slowly, "something tells me that we're going to find
out soon."

<::::::::::::::::::::|||||||||||||::::::::::::::::::::>

     The old man had been sick for weeks now. Nothing worked...and he didn't dare try any of
his old tricks. All that stuff had died with the Cult. And besides, doing things like that, this close
to a holy place, even if it was for a good cause...Valeris would never allow it. Never.
     First came the cough, then the slow wheeze while he was breathing. Soon, his lungs took
on a rattling sound that frightened him.
     *Frightened him*...the concept was new, that he should care so much about another
human being that the thought of their death filled him with this kind of dread. He would have
examined everything more carefully, the whirlwind of emotions going on inside of him, if he'd
had more time. He had once had time in abundance. During his long years with the cult, time
had been all he'd had. Long empty hours passing as he struggled with his insides...
     He shook himself and ran a hand over his head, his fingers grazing the spikes that were a
part of him, had been a part of him for almost all of his life. He wished they would go away. He
wished it every night before he drifted off to sleep, and wished it every morning before he gazed
into the pool of bathing water that always managed to catch his reflection. It was the only time
of the day when he would look at himself, and not by choice. He scrubbed at his face with the
water, every time pulling his fingers back and hoping to see the red and black paint of the tattoo
as it wore off his face. But it never happened. It was still there, still coating his face, as much as
he tried to forget it out of existence.
     At least Valeris didn't mind.
     The rattling sound was getting louder. Valeris was trying to sleep, but his own noises
were keeping him awake. He tossed and turned until he finally paused, the rattling sound fading
as a word came to his lips.
     "Seth."
     Seth moved out of the shadows, and caught Valeris' brief startled glance before the man
settled back into his easy rapport. It had taken a bit for him to get used to the cult mask, but he
had been able to see past it and into Seth's face. Seth could see it in the way the man's green eyes
looked at him with such affection and warmth. Even now, as the shadow of death started to drift
across his face.
     "Yes, Master," he said, and Valeris even gave a little laugh from amidst the choking
cough.
     "Humor me," he said, the blood foaming slightly at the corners of his mouth. Seth moved
quickly to wipe it away. "I'm on my deathbed. Call me Valeris, at least once."
     Seth fought the urge to smile. "Yes, Mas...Valeris," he managed. He would have
preferred Master, as there was no other word Seth could call him that would convey how he felt
about the old man.
     Aside from "Father." And that just didn't seem right.
     "That was good," Valeris chuckled, ever in his good humor, in spite of his condition.
Then, his green eyes grew very solemn. "Are you ready to do what you must?"
     Words failed him at that moment. He had spent seven years here, in this desert hideaway
with Valeris, growing and learning and meditating on the light side of the Force. He had found
so much, and it all gathered in the back of his throat and lodged itself there, unwilling to come
out in any comprehensive manner. There was so much that stretched before him, and doubt
assailed him as he glanced over it, its sheer magnitude daunting him--
     "Easy, son," Valeris wheezed, touching his thoughts to Seth's. "You only have to look
down at your own feet and watch where you're stepping. That's how you get to where you're
going. Don't stare at the future for too long--it's like looking at the sun. It might blind you. Quick
glances are all you need."
     Seth sighed. "I have been awaiting your command to summon them."
     "Yes," Valeris said, sighing. "I know." Actually, Seth had wanted to go after them ever
since the cough had first shown up, but Valeris had refused, saying Seth was letting his
newfound Force-site to get away from him. But sure enough, the cough had mutated and was
now seeking his life.
     As much as Seth did not wish to see them, as much as he hid himself from them when
they came and made their visits, choosing the deepest, most secluded of tunnels to hide in until
they left, even if it was weeks. He kept his presence in the Force hidden from them as well,
except for that last time, four months ago----
     He shut his mind off to it. He could not risk Valeris discovering that. It might ruin
everything he had worked so hard to build for himself here.
     But Valeris was too busy coughing up more of his blood to pay attention to Seth's
straying thoughts. He rolled onto his hands and knees for a moment, and then rolled back onto
his pallet, his breathing even noisier than before. The rattling had taken on a sickening, bubbly
sound. Who knew how long the old man would last? Maybe he should just stay here--
     "No, you have to bring them," Valeris said, his face contorted with pain as he spoke.
"Besides, I need time to myself...I have to pray. But I want them here...they must be here. Mara
and her husband and Vaiya and the boy Valery...and Larin..." His breath caught in his throat and
he wound up vomiting, but when he was done Seth could hear that a lot of the fluids had passed
out of his system, and his breathing eased.
     "I will bring them all. I promise."
     Valeris nodded. "Go now," he urged. "You will reach them in a few days if you take the
shortcut through the wasteland. But be careful for those poisonous spiders." Then Valeris looked
at him through one eye. "Not that I don't think you could defend yourself."
     Seth smiled. "I will be careful, I promise." And he pulled himself to his feet and ran to
get his pack. He had a long journey ahead of him, and he had to make it fast.

<::::::::::::::::::::||||\\\\\\||||::::::::::::::::::::>

    Vaiya Jade Skywalker sat on the rim of the stone wall, overlooking the garden. It was a
grand place that they occupied here, not of their own accord but merely by the good graces of
Valery's aunt and uncle, who had given her and Larin this home when they had married as a
present. The glittering marble columns and the grand stairs were luxuries they would never have
been able to afford, and quite frankly, it was a little too much for them, if they were to stay
humble.
She smiled to herself, the morning breezes dancing through her honey-colored hair which
hung long and free down her back in gentle waves. In a paradise like this, the mistakes of the
past were easily forgotten.
     A ripple in the Force made her lift her head, and she detected Iyala, coming up the wide
stairs outside, back from her morning meditation. The woman who had been her sponsor when
she had pledged her conversion to the Durranian Faith had turned out to be a Force-sensitive, but
unfortunately it was very minute, and not very trainable. However, Vaiya believed that her
limited Force-sensitivity did serve a special purpose, and had allowed the woman to stay at their
home for as long as she desired.
     It was not just their home, after all. Larin had agreed that they had to share this wealth.
So they set up the house as a retreat home, not for Jedi to be trained but for them to learn and
grow in their knowledge of the Force, and most importantly, its Source.
     Not that she didn't train a student here and there. But that was mainly her father's job, not
hers. And last she'd heard, her mother was back on her old stomping grounds, helping Aunt Leia
get some information on the Jedi from some ancient database. Vaiya snorted. All of this fuss just
for a new Jedi Council. She did not think much of this new council. She had encountered one of
the Knights one time and it was enough for her. They were all arrogant and believed in their own
superiority. A knot formed in her stomach as she considered that she might have some run-ins
with them in the very near future, considering Ben seemed to take such an interest in them.
     Speaking of which, he was due to arrive at any time now. *What could be keeping him?*
she wondered.
     Iyala appeared at the other end of the hallway, her figure dressed in the white desert
robes with the silver jewelry and headband, her dark red and black hair bound tightly behind her
in an intricate braid. She padded silently down the long marble corridor until she reached where
Vaiya was perched outside, and gazed at the flowers around her.
     <"Are you making them do that?"> she asked in the familiar Durranian tongue.
     <"What?"> Vaiya asked, her finger grazing a flower with wide, floppy petals the color of
her mother's hair.
     <"Making them grow so beautifully. I mean, with your Force influence.">
     "Never!" came a familiar voice from behind them, and Vaiya glanced over Iyala's
shoulder to see Larin, fresh from his morning run, trotting up to them. She smiled at him and slid
off the railing.
     "Always in basic," Iyala chastised, although she switched to the language easily now.
"What kind of Durranian are you, Larin?"
     "One who's married to an offworlder," he replied, his eyes sparking with all shades of
blue and green and brown. But as they gazed down at Vaiya, they turned a deep, mysterious blue,
and Vaiya ran a hand through his locks which were brightening to blond in the sun.
     "Good morning, love," she whispered, and kissed him. He kissed her back, pulling her
closer to deepen it. Then he pulled away and headed off toward the kitchen for his breakfast.
     "Not much of a talker, is he?" Iyala remarked dryly.
     "When you kiss like that, you don't need to talk," Vaiya murmured.
     To her surprise, Iyala turned very red. "I see," she whispered. "Actually, I came to inquire
after your brother. When will he be arriving?"
     "He should be here any time, I really don't know." Vaiya shook her head, returning to her
perch on the ledge again. Just as she glanced up, she saw a ship streak across the sky. She
reached out with the Force, and felt his familiar presence. "I think that's him now," she said with
a smile.

     He was big now, almost eighteen and taller than she. Vaiya ran to embrace him and he
picked her up easily, swinging her around with his characteristic playfulness.
     "Ben!" she admonished, laughing. "Easy on the waist! You don't know your own
strength!"
     He laughed. Long since he had decided to go by his middle name, Ben. It pleased their
father immensely, as well as Mara. He set her down and smiled at her, his bright grey eyes
almost silver in his merriment, his dark locks flying about his head. "Mother and father send
their love," he said, his voice long since past the high-pitched awkwardness of his youth.
     "I hope they've sent news as well," she said, smoothing her clothes. "You have to tell me
all that's going on."
     "Since when did you become a gossip hound?" Ben teased, taking her arm as they began
the long walk toward the house. Their home was so huge it had its own mini-port, and Ben had
long since expressed his appreciation for their extensive grounds.
     "Since you decided you wanted to become a pilot." Larin came out of the dining room as
Vaiya's last words faded to echoes around them and greeted his brother.
     "You got big!" Larin said, slapping Ben's upper arm extra-hard.
     "Well, life on Yavin IV isn't for whimps."
     "Rouge squadron doesn't take whimps," Vaiya commented. "At least, not until Uncle
Corran retired."
     Ben snorted. "No, trust me, Jania doesn't take whimps, either. Although she's getting up
there in years...pretty soon they'll need a new leader."
     "Aren't you a little young to lead Rouge Squadron?" Vaiya frowned.
     "Wasn't father a little young to blow up a death star? Or you a little young to convert and
entire legion of Jedi?"
     "Okay, okay, point," Vaiya groaned, throwing her hands up. "You win. Hungry?"
     "Starving."
     Larin gestured to the dining room doors. "I was in the middle of breakfast now. But
Vaiya, I'm afraid, doesn't eat."
     Vaiya slapped him. "I eat!" she cried. "You're just jealous because I have the Skywalker
metabolism."
     "What, that you're a stick?" Ben teased.
     Larin winked at him. "Trust me, she ain't no stick," he said, sliding an arm around her
neck and pulling her close.
     "You two are as bad as my parents," Ben groaned, going on ahead of them into the dining
area, grabbing a few pieces of fruit off a nearby table.
     "Aren't you involved with anyone yet, Ben?" Larin asked as they followed.
     Ben shrugged. "Oh, you know me..."
     "Iyala was asking about you," Vaiya tossed at him.
     Ben looked at her over his shoulder, visibly brightening. "She did?"
     "Right before you arrived. She had to go make sure your rooms were ready, but she said
she'd be back soon."
     "Sounds like something to me," Larin muttered.
     Ben shrugged again. "Oh, women...they say one thing, do another. It may not mean
anything."
     Vaiya frowned. "Since when did you become a pessimist?"
     Ben bit into the fruit, shrugging. "Just stating things how they are." He averted his eyes
and changed the subject. "So you wanna know about Mom and Dad or what?"
     "I figured I'd have to prod you a little more than that," Vaiya said, but went with the flow.
Whatever was bugging Ben, he'd tell them when he was ready. "But I take it it hasn't been the
same old, same old?"
     "Mom went to Coruscant to help Aunt Leia with something. From what Father said, it's
some kind of buried database, deep toward the planet surface. They think because she was so
close to the Emperor for so long she would have the best chance of cracking into it. Rumor has
it," he added, a twinkle in his eyes, "that the lost records of the Jedi Council are buried there."
     Larin grunted. "Rumors," he said. "It surprises me that they haven't done more searching
through the Durranian libraries. I mean, when Mara was here last year, she found a lot of stuff.
They had some records on Palpatine that few people knew about, during the beginning of his rise
to power."
     "Yes, back then he went by a sith name, Darth Sidious. He had an apprentice named
Maul, who was a part of the Cult of the Destroyer, before Seth took over." No one noticed how
Vaiya kept her face perfectly smooth at the mention of the name. "But there's only bits and
pieces there, Larin. Nothing real or concrete."
     "Well, Mara wasn't exactly doing an Old Republic search," Larin pointed out, flinching
slightly at the mention of the cult.
     "She is now," Ben said, taking another bite of the fruit. "I don't know what's up with her,
but she's got a bone to chew and won't be satisfied until it's done." He paused. "Father said he
hasn't seen her like this since she first went looking for me."
     There was a short silence that descended upon them. Vaiya's mind drifted back to those
times in her childhood, the memory of Cal Saphringer rising up like a ghost and then fading
under the bright light of day. Larin reached out and squeezed her hand reassuringly.
     "Whatever it is, we'll survive it," he said, his mind lightly teasing.
     "Mother does have a knack for finding trouble...or letting it find her," Vaiya agreed.
     "Well, she's been on Coruscant for a month now, and I haven't heard much except a lot of
frustration," Ben pointed out. "Whatever Palpatine had down there, he wanted it kept locked
up...forever. We don't even really know how the database was found. Just that is was there one
day. No one will give us any more of a story than that." He snorted. "I'm glad I wasn't alive when
this guy was. He sounds pretty nasty."
     Vaiya nodded. "I wasn't alive either, but there are days when I feel like I was."
     Larin tugged at her hair. "You couldn't possibly feel that old. Not when you have me to
keep you feeling young."
     Vaiya smiled at him but turned her attention back to Ben. "A month, you said? Father's
got to be going nuts!"
     "Actually, he's got his hands full trying to keep the Academy open. Students have been
flooding in. Derrin and Drianna have both been promoted to teachers full time, even though
they're not Jedi Masters. Before they were just teaching theories and religion, but now they're
handling some training. And the new Council...." A very dark look appeared on Ben's face.
"Soon, someone is going to have to go there and tell them what is what."
     Both Larin and Ben looked to Vaiya. She put her hands up, palms outward. "Why are you
looking at me?"
     "It's you they're fuming about," Larin pointed out.
     "Me? What did I do?"
     "You were the first Jedi to start preaching God," Ben said. "They all followed you. But
the new Council doesn't agree. They want to go back to the old ways."
     "You mean the old arrogance," Vaiya said in a low voice. Then she sighed. "If Yejion
wants me to address them, then He will provide the opportunity, and the words." But as she
spoke, a frown appeared and disappeared from her forehead. "Until then, I'm not going
anywhere."
     Larin and Ben exchanged glances. "Looks like everyone's been feeling some sort of angst
lately," Ben commented softly.
     Larin smiled, attempting to lighten the mood. "I think it's a Skywalker thing, myself."
     Ben smiled back. "You'd probably be right."

     Iyala paced the hallway. She could feel them in the dining room--her limited senses told
her that much. But why couldn't she join them? She knew she would be welcome...Vaiya loved
her like a sister, and Ben had a mild crush on her that she rather enjoyed.
     Then there was Larin.
     She sighed. It had been so long...nearly eight years. And Larin had been so clear about his
feelings. He had been sick for Vaiya, desperately missing her. She had known that, from the first
second to the last, and yet she had let herself give in and take from him the fake love she knew
would never last her.
     Now, she could not bear to be in the same room with them for more than a few minutes.
     Eight years! It should have been long enough! And yet, the fact that it was never spoken
of, that Vaiya never knew about it...the fact that it was a dirty, shameful secret that was to be
forgotten...for some perverse reason, it made it cling to her soul all the more.
     Was she just suffering from unrequited love...or from guilt? In this house that radiated
peace, the secrets were buried very deep. It was easy to forget things here for many of the Jedi
who chose to retreat to this place, even the most painful of memories. But Iyala knew no peace.
She doubted she ever would.
     Her thoughts were broken by the sudden presence of an outsider. He was new to this
place, and there was a dark taint around him, like the smell of bad cologne that had been
scrubbed at many times but would not fade completely. She turned toward the main door,
reaching out with what little Force ability she had. Whoever this visitor was, his mission was of
the utmost urgency...she could feel her stomach begin to churn, even as his did.
     She descended the low flight of stairs and made her way into the grand hall in time to see
him appear at the gate. The two novices who volunteered to keep watch for visitors recoiled at
the site of him--*what could be so bad?* she wondered as she approached. They were all
stepping back as if he frightened them, but his voice was almost pleading.
     "---Skywalker. Please, you must get them! I have an emergency! They will want to
know!"
     "What is your business here, stranger?" one of the novices demanded, his own fear rising
in him so high that Iyala could practically taste it.
     "Their grandfather, Vaiya's grandfather, Master Valeris...he is dying and he has asked to
see her!"
     "How do we know you're telling us the truth?" the other novice said, his voice shaking
slightly.
     The figure's face was covered with shadow, but Iyala could sense his impending despair.
"Please, just fetch Master Vaiya. She will know me. My name is Seth."
     Finally, Iyala reached them. Her ears burned at the mention of the name...Larin had
mentioned that name a few times, wondering to himself and to her what Seth meant to Vaiya.
She felt her throat turn cold and her fingers wouldn't work even as her lips formed words to
speak.
     "Darth Seth?" she asked.
     The figured turned his face to her, and he stepped forward. She caught a flash of red, just
the bottom part of his face, not the eyes. "Just Seth," he said.
     "Take your hood off," Iyala said, her voice even.
     He hesitated for a moment, and then sighed and pulled back the dark cloth.
     Iyala gasped. His face was a mosaic of red and black, and even though his eyes were
deep green and absolutely serene, it could not take from the fact that his head was crowned with
horns. Ten of them. She felt herself take a step back.
     "Please," he said, those colored, full lips parting, his eyes pleading, "her grandfather is
fading quickly and he needs to see her. There is not much time!" Even as he plead, his voice was
very smooth and calm.
     Iyala considered for a moment, and then turned on her heel. "Wait here," she said, "and I
will ask her."

     "Seth?" Vaiya echoed, her face very pale. "Here?"
     "You do know him..." Iyala frowned slightly. "What is wrong with his face? Is that some
sort of--"
     "Cult marking," Larin said, not looking at anything but Vaiya's face.
     Vaiya stood. "Where is he?" she asked, her voice a whisper.
     "At the gate. I did not let him in."
     She nodded, and pulled out her comlink, thumbing it on. "Front gate?" she said.
     There was a brief hesitation before there was a reply, and they heard Seth's baritone in
the background, the words muffled, as the novice at the front gate replied. "Yes, Master Vaiya?"
     "Bring the man in. He is....a friend."
     Another pause, and there was a distinct ripple in the Force...relief, they noted. "Very
well, Master." And then it turned off.
     Vaiya glanced at Larin, who was still watching her. "You two never did formally meet,"
she said, but her voice sounded rather flimsy and small.
     Larin finally turned his eyes to Iyala. "Did he say why he was here?"
     Iyala considered her words. "It is about Vaiya's grandfather," she said. "I think you'd best
hear it from him."

     When Vaiya appeared, she did not seem to hesitate, but Seth knew better. She was alone,
but there would be others coming. Thank Yejion they had been wise to let her come alone for
the moment. But she did not look at him. Her eyes seemed to be fixed elsewhere, maybe on
those who still sought to keep him out.
     The novices blocked his way, standing at the top of the short flight of stairs, keeping him
from trying to enter any higher. When she came, she lightly touched their shoulders and spoke
with them. He could not hear the conversation, he was too far away. He had not dared to move
half-way down the wide hall, but instead wanted her to come out to him.
     He was not welcome in this place, even if she welcomed him.
     She paused by the nearby rail, and then turned to fix her gaze upon him. Now her face
was unable to pull away from his. There was shock in her features, and distinct pain...and guilt.
     He was glad he had pulled his hood back over his face. That way she could not see his
own expression, and would not be further tormented by his looks of longing. The fact that the
mere sight of each other was an occasion of such dark movements in the Force filled him with a
despair that threatened to overwhelm him. But he evened his breathing and forced himself to
stay calm.
     "Seth," she greeted him, coming down the stairs at a steady pace. She was dressed in
black leggings with a tunic of thin Durranian velvet, dyed a beautiful shade of red-violet.
Collarless with long sleeves and a low waist, it hugged her form and was very becoming to her.
Her lightsaber, long as it was, hung from a belt that was strapped around her waist, over the
tunic. It swung slightly with her motions.
     As she got closer, her face softened. He lifted his head, letting the light catch half of his
face, showing himself to her but being careful to keep his expression guarded. Not that it would
do him much good. She could see through him as surely as he could see through her.

     "Vaiya," he said, her name a caress. She gave him a small smile.
     "Iyala said you had urgent news."
     "Indeed. Your grandfather...he is dying. He has asked that you come to him, as well as
your mother and father, and your brother...and your husband."
     Later, she would not know whether the overwhelming urgency of his news had been
enough to drive the personal pain of the encounter away, or if she had just simply ignored his
face as he mentioned Larin. "Valeris...dying?" She turned pale. "Of what?"
     "He has a cough that makes him vomit blood, and I feel it is draining his life away."
     Vaiya shook her head, fighting off tears. "No...no, it's too soon! Valeris can't die! Not yet!
We have to get him a doctor!"
     Seth found himself smiling in gentle sympathy, the corners of his mouth lifting
awkwardly, as his face was not used to such compassion. "Vaiya, he is over a hundred and
twenty years old. He knows it is his time, and he wants only to get ready. For that, he needs his
family."
     She raised her eyes to his and they gazed at each other for a long moment, and then she
spun on her heel. "Larin! Ben! You have to come quick! We have to leave for Valeris' desert
keep right away!"
     Something else took over her at that moment, something alien, something in control of
her motions that knew what was right. She had no time to think about Seth. No time at all.
Valeris was dying. As Ben and Larin appeared, she shouted instructions for them to get a
channel open to Yavin IV. They had to get Mara and Luke here right away. There was no time to
waste.

<::::::::::::::::::::{///////////}::::::::::::::::::::>

     Mara wiped a thick drop of sweat from her forehead. This had become a war with her.
Ghent hadn't been able to return her calls, and she was on her own. But she had not spent so
much time with the slicer--*Retired my foot,* she swore to herself--and not have picked up a
few tricks.
     Sitting in the middle of the humid, damp room that reminded her of a basin made of
heavy black marble wasn't exactly the most "warm and fuzzy" of situations she could have been
in at that moment. She had almost shaken off the feeling that she was sitting at the bottom of a
tomb. The computer was rather large and partly buried into the surface of Coruscant. No,
Palpatine had never wanted this place found. How they had done it was beyond her. The Will of
Yejion, pure and simple. The control panel was practically destroyed--it looked like there had
been a few grenades or similar devices implanted into the main boards that had not quite erupted
right, leaving just enough for her to work with. She had managed to hack her way past the main
system, but getting into the records themselves was another thing. She'd been at it for a few days
and had still gotten nowhere.
     Sighing, she pulled herself into an upright position, taking the strain of being hunched
down off of her thighs. She should have been proud that a person her age--in spite of her
youthful body--was able to handle such situations for so long, but she paid no attention. All she
knew was that yet again Palpatine was laughing at her. He had built her up and then knocked her
down, and had continued to knock her down again and again, manipulating her from his very
grave, pulling her strings, laughing at her. Laughing that sick and twisted laugh that still echoed
through Luke's nightmares every once in a while, vibrating into her own dreams and shaking her
from her sleep.
     How could any human being have been so evil? Had there been nothing redeeming about
him? Not a shred of decency, a mere thought for another besides himself? Mara paced the dark
room, still dark in spite of the fact that she had put lights everywhere, and they streaked up to the
ceiling in their white brilliance. Still, this place was dark. Maybe part of it was her shadow, so
big against the smooth, curving walls of this chamber. It was warm down here, just under the
surface, warmer than it should have been.
     Always her past, that was what it came down to. Always her past haunting them, looming
over them like a shadow. Luke's father had been Vader, but no, she'd done him one better, as
usual. Her master had been Palpatine...more than a master, for no mere master could have gotten
his claws into her like he had. No, he'd been more. He'd been all she'd known as a father.
     *Father...* Mara paused, her breath catching in her throat. Palpatine's presence was
strong here, like a ghost. It would explain her rage...it was swelling under her chest, straining
against her ribcage, wanting OUT. But no, she shut her eyes and prayed for a few minutes,
unconsciously settling down into a sitting position. Within a few minutes, she felt cooler and
calmer, and as she opened her eyes, they landed on the control board.
     Why hadn't she seen those wires before?
     Mara moved her muscles to stand, one hand stretched out before her to grasp at the
sudden chance she saw. But as she got to her feet, a loud whistle came from her bag, and she
jumped, letting out a tiny shriek. Her cheeks burned as she realized that it was her comlink. But
who---?
     "Mara," she said into the small silver tube, struggling to keep her breathing even. She had
a bad feeling.....
     "There's a transmission coming in from Luke," Leia said, her voice strained. "It's an
emergency, Mara."
     "Put him through." She linked up the com to the small holopad she had with her, and in a
few seconds Luke appeared, looking rather disheveled.
     "Mara," he said, his eyes lighting up to see her. She smiled, feeling his warm presence
even across the light years. The room seemed less dark for the moment.
     "Hey, Skywalker," she said. "What's wrong?"
     "Vaiya just called from Durran," he said, his voice rough. "She says we're needed there
right away."
     "Why?" Mara scowled, her eyes glancing at those wires. Her stomach slowly rolled over
as her gaze came back at Luke.
     "Do you want me to tell you over this line, or in person?" Luke asked.
     Mara blanched. "That bad?" Luke nodded. "Go ahead and tell me," she advised.
     "It's Valeris. He's dying."
     Mara slowly sat back on her haunches, her hands folded before her. Long seconds passed,
the silence of the room nearly deafening. She sighed, letting her breath out slowly between
pursed lips.
     Valeris...her grandfather, the only family she had, the only link left to her Durranian past,
and the only evidence that she had a family other than Palpatine. Dying....she pushed the lump in
her throat aside.
     "I'll meet you on Durran."
     "It's a week's flight, Mara--"
     Mara shook her head. "He'll hold on until I get there. He has to. I have to see him
before...." her voice crumbled, and she gave Luke a hesitant smile. "I love you, Luke. I'll see you
on Durran." And she disconnected him.
     Mara looked at the wires, all her strength leaving her in her sitting position, holding her
knees to her chest like a frightened child. So Valeris was going to die...he was over a hundred
years old, but there had been so little time, and so much life for her away from Durran that had
kept her from spending more time with him.
     Valeris...the blood from which she sprang, her mother's father. Valeris Jade, with the
family green eyes and dark skin. Mara pulled her gloves from her hands, examining her own
white tones.
     Then it hit her, like a barrier that had been suddenly pulled away and sent her sprawling
into a brilliant cavern below.
     Her *mother's* father....Jade, her mother's name. Her name. But her father? What of
him?
     She shut her eyes...memories of her past had been hard. She'd remembered bits and
pieces here and there, but had never been able to get much past that. No, she'd lived with her
mother's family, and with a man she had known as a father, even if just for a brief time before
they were killed and she was taken. But he was not her blood father. He was not her blood. He
was not the source of the name Jade.
     She glanced at the computer, and seized the wires with her ungloved hands. The
electricity hummed through her fingers, but it would take more than technical tricks to get this
trap door to open. Mara reached out with the Force, drawing on her hidden strength, using her
Master's skills, and throwing the power she had always known she'd possessed forward into the
matter before her.
     It *recognized* her.
     Suddenly, it all became clear....frighteningly clear. She and Luke had always wondered
the same thing--why had Palpatine wanted her? What was her purpose? Now, she realized that it
wasn't her purpose that he was interested in---it was her blood.
     *His* blood.
     She was Palpatine's *daughter.*
     There was a great cracking noise as the heavy black marble parted a few feet from her,
revealing a chamber she hadn't known existed but recognized instantly. This was what had
brought her here. This was her inheritance, her right as Palpatine's only living descendant. The
realization made her cold with shock, but it did not surprise her. It felt like the knowledge had
always been there inside of her, just waiting for her to admit its truth. Whether she had denied it
consciously or unconsciously she would never know, and didn't even care. It was there, and all
that lay ahead of her was to take it into her hand and accept it.
     She found that she was shaking as she stepped away from the panel and into the
chamber. She felt a brief gust of stale air as it brushed past her, caressing her cheek like a kiss of
welcome. In her ears, she could hear his voice, withered with age but sharp with darkness.
     *Welcome home, Daughter.*
     It was all around her, the dark side. It was like a stinking pit, foul with evil. But it was
powerful, and tempting. It was almost as if Palpatine himself were inside, waiting for her with
open arms, wanting to welcome her back to her own dark side, cast around her his own mantle
and place upon her the crown of Empress that he had been so carefully guarding.
     "But I am a woman," she said, her voice a whisper in the wide chamber. "I am beneath
you, Father. That is why you rejected me for so long. What made you change your mind?"
     And she felt him laugh--again. Her anger rose up, but she refused to give him what he
wanted. "Away from me, demon!" she screamed, her voice suddenly frighteningly loud and
sharp in the chamber. "In the name of Yejion, I command you, away!"
     She stood for a long minute with her eyes shut, her hand grasping the pendant that had
been given her by the Elders of the First Temple when she'd returned. When she opened them
again, it was gone.
     Whatever had been there had left. She glanced around, not knowing what to make of
anything she saw. Exotic treasures were buried here, but more important were the scientific
trinkets....more than trinkets, she realized as she approached what looked like a long, inch-thick
tube going up the wall. She pressed a few buttons, guided only by her instinct, and she realized
that the tube she saw was only a fraction of what was inside the wall. The sides slid back,
revealing more and more until she was horribly aware of exactly what that tube was.
     A cloning tube. And inside floated a man.
     Not just a man. A *Zabrak.*
     Mara gasped. They had long since died out, their Force-powerful race being one of the
first to go under Palpatine's Jedi purges. Since then, the only Zabrak she had encountered had
been the Cult of the Destroyer.
     She looked at the man floating in the tube for a long moment. Then she realized that he
was not in fact floating in the tube, he had been frozen inside of it, frozen in the dark blue, solid
light energy of a stasis block. She'd seen this before, a long time ago. It had affected Luke pretty
badly--blocked his Force powers.
     Whoever this man was, he'd been out once already, and then put back. But why?
     Then, Mara stumbled back, realizing that the stasis block was already affecting her like a
ysalamari. She pulled out her comlink and thumbed it on.
     "Yes, Mara?" Leia's voice came on, sounding worried.
     "Get a team down here," she said. "I found something."

<:::::::::::::::::::!!!!!!!!!!!!!

     Luke glanced up at the sky for the umpteenth time. He hoped that Mara arrived soon,
because Valeris did not have much time left. Even now, Luke could sense that the old man was
just waiting for his granddaughter before he gave his final farewells. But if Mara did not
hurry...Luke shuddered to think of what she might do to herself if she didn't make it in time.
     But no...the Force had beckoned him up here to wait. Below, Vaiya and Larin were
keeping watch like sentinels. Seth, for his part, was keeping a careful distance, but Luke could
sense his immense emotions for the dying man, emotions that Seth was not used to having and
did not know exactly how to deal with. Despite his incredible age, somehow he had remained a
boy in the depths of his soul. After this, where would he go? His terrible face with its sharp red
and black markings and ten white, curving horns had frightened everyone in Vaiya's home,
according to Ben, who was also down below, keeping the death watch. Luke could hear the
sympathy in Ben's voice when he spoke of Seth, and knew that probably even now he was
keeping a close eye on him--not because the man was dangerous, but because he seemed so lost.
     Ben knew a thing or two about that.
     He felt her presence before he saw the ship drop out of hyperspace, a glimmer just bright
enough to show up in the heavy pink and orange layers of the sunset. He sighed, feeling more
anxious that he could even believe. He reached out and touched her mind, but there was a barrier
there--something he rarely encountered. Within a few seconds, though, the barrier was gone and
he felt her return his touch. He sent to her images of what was going on, assured her that Valeris
was still alive and waiting for her, but these were only shallow emotions compared to what was
broiling within them both.
     *We'll talk later,* Mara assured him. Slowly, the image of the Jaded Sky II began to
grow. It wouldn't be too long, now.

     Ben wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. He was rather torn between staying with
Vaiya and Larin in Valeris' room, or going out into the main chamber where Seth sat, struggling
to get a grip on the raging storm inside of him. According to what he'd learn from Vaiya, Seth
had once been a very powerful sith lord. He'd lead a cult of sith lords known as the Cult of the
Destroyer, but that had ended when Seth had proven himself to have too much light in him--after
how many years? Ben wondered. The fact that the man had survived the blackening of his soul
was a pure miracle. He'd been subjected to their dark magics, had even lead them continuously,
and had even had his body regenerated so that now he looked to be not too much older than
Vaiya herself. How could anyone had spent so many years that close to such darkness and yet
have been saved?
     He'd heard stories, though, but none of them had ended like this one. His grandfather,
Darth Vader, known now as the Jedi Anakin Skywalker, had slain millions of innocents, and yet
had repented at the end and brought down Emperor Palpatine himself. His mother--even if not
by his blood--had served Palpatine as his assassin, taking life after life at his command. Yet she,
too, had turned. Of course, his mother now spent her life in service as a Jedi Master. The road
back had not been easy for her. If Vader had lived, perhaps he would have turned back again
under the stress and strain of trying to be good after so many years of evil. People were not
accepting of murderers. Perhaps Yejion's mercy was eternal and all-compassing, but human
mercy was not.
     *How sad,* he thought.
     There was another ripple in the Force, and Ben looked up to see that Mara had finally
arrived. His father was right at her heels as she charged through the room, but not so fast that she
didn't pause and give Valery a brief kiss on the cheek in greeting and rumple his hair
affectionately. He smiled at her briefly before she disappeared into the room. Within a few
minutes, Vaiya and Larin were stepping out, their faces pale and withdrawn.
     "What is it?" Ben asked, concerned.
     "Mother wanted to be alone with him," Vaiya said, her voice hoarse.
     "She'll let us know," Larin said, his voice a bit more solid. He put his arm around Vaiya's
shoulder and pulled her closer. Her eyes seemed glazed and lost, and even as Larin attempted to
comfort her, Ben could sense her pull deeper into herself.
     With....guilt?
     She glanced at him, and soundly shut him out. "How is Seth?" she asked, her voice barely
above a whisper. Beside her, Larin flinched, ever so slightly.
     Ben sighed. "I guess I'll go check," he said, and left the two of them alone.

     In the dim glow of the light that came from the center of the room, there sat a figure, his
head covered by his cloak. Ben sensed the emotional struggle that he had encountered moments
ago slightly ease as the figure's attention was suddenly redirected.
     "What has happened?" Seth asked, his voice dry and cracked.
     "Our mother has arrived," Ben said.
     The head nodded. "Yes...I think I sensed her."
     "I'm surprised you can sense anything," Ben said, his voice gentle. "You're having a hard
time with this...no one you've cared about has ever died before?"
     There was a pause. "I never cared about anyone. There was no one to die that I should
care."
     Ben nodded. "Perhaps, then, you don't realize that you aren't alone in this."
     There was another pause, this one longer, and Ben swore he heard the man chuckle,
faintly. "Exactly who, then, do I have?"
     The overwhelming bitterness of his tone made Ben step back a half-step. Then,
determined, he pushed forward, closing the distance. "I don't think we were introduced before,"
he said, sitting down on one of the heavy stone chairs that encircled the generator in the middle
of the room. "I'm Valery Ben Skywalker, but everyone calls me Ben. I know you know my sister,
Vaiya. She's not my full sister, really--she's actually my half sister. Master Skywalker is our
father. Master Jade is her mother, mine was a woman named Callista, a Jedi Knight...it's a long
story. I'll tell it sometime, but not right now."
     He paused, waiting for Seth to react. The man glanced up at him, his eyes amazingly
human in all that darkness, bright green--like Mara's.
     "If you want me to share my story," Seth said, "I'm afraid you will be sorely disappointed.
You see, I didn't even know it myself until a short time ago, and I'm still not sure about much of
it."
     "What do you know?" Ben asked.
     "I was taken from my mother when I was only a boy," he said, "and given the mask of the
cult. The leader of the cult was a man named Darth Maul...he left within a few years, and for
some reason the cult gave me leadership, saying it was by default. I never knew if it was because
I was related to Maul by blood, or if Maul had demanded it. I certainly never understood why he
would do that. I was never a good leader, but I did keep them alive when Palpatine sought to
destroy all the Jedi. We spent half a century in hiding."
     Ben took the story evenly. He'd heard bits and pieces over the years, but this was from
the man himself. "How did you survive? What did you do all those years?"
     Seth's form shifted slightly, as if he were shrugging underneath his cloak. "Meditations in
the Force...many of my brothers spent time in hibernation, desiring to keep themselves young.
Not everyone can survive the regeneration process. It takes a certain amount of Force-strength,
and the right chemistry. Over the years the cult has existed, leaders have been known to die from
it. They say that the Evil One shows who is truly worthy in that way. I spent my time in ways I
cannot even remember now. Dreaming, perhaps. I hibernated at times, but when I began to lose
my strength and speed in training--there was so much training! For years I practiced using the
double-ended lightsaber, practicing manipulating the Force, and still they pressed it on me, even
though Jedi Masters had spent lifetimes less than me in their training. I never understood why.
Perhaps I was weak. Perhaps there was too much light in me, and they were trying to drive it
out."
     "You never believed in their cause, did you?" Ben frowned. "Why did you stay?"
     "I believed in finding the chosen mate, the mother of the Destroyer. I believed that the
child we would sire would be the one they desired. Perhaps that was why they let me stay and
did not drive me out. Or perhaps I was easy to manipulate. I did not believe in their Evil One, as
you say...I believed he existed, but my faith was not with him. It was not with anything. I simply
existed, and waited...."
     "For Vaiya," Ben whispered.
     Seth flinched. "Yes."
     Ben glanced toward the other room, where no doubt Larin and Vaiya were clinging to
each other, trying to wait out the long, slow watch. His heart wrenched in sympathy...but then
came a flicker of something that he did not expect.
     Guilt.
     He turned back to Seth, who had bent his head again. "What about your life before the
cult?" he asked. "What about your mother and your father?"
     "I don't remember much of my mother. Valeris was helping me remember. I can
remember her face...the color of her eyes, the color of her hair. But not much else. I have no
memory of my father outside of the fact that he was a Zabrak." Seth touched his horns. "Since I
was half Durranian, my horns did not want to grow like my father's. The cult had to perform
some ceremony on me to make them grow. I have come to believe that that is what has caused
my spotted memories. That, combined with being regenerated about ten or so years ago, has
done some considerable damage. But I was reconstructing it." He sighed, glancing toward
Valeris' room. The helplessness that suddenly surged from him touched Ben's heart.
     "You don't have to give up," Ben said, his voice still gentle. "I don't know if you've heard
of me, but I am somewhat of a healer. I can help you reconstruct your memories, if you will let
me. It will take time, though."
     Seth let out his breath in a short burst--a laugh? It was hard to tell. "I have always had
time with me," he said. "But perhaps your companions will not be so willing to let you...*take
me in.*"
     Ben smiled. "I think you'd be surprised."

     Mara held the old man as he half lay in her arms. He was so frail compared to the last
time she'd seen him, but there was still a thick amount of muscle clinging to his arms. His
fingers as they clasped her cheek were strong, his voice struggling to be even as he spoke.
     "He has nowhere else to go," Valeris said. "Vaiya cannot take him in...it would put too
much strain on her and Larin.
     "I don't understand," Mara said, shaking her head. "Why me, of all people?"
     "Because I trust you, Mara," Valeris said, his eyes soft with affection. "Perhaps we have
not been in each other's lives as we should have been, but you have always been with me. I have
always known how you've grown, how you've changed. You could not have pleased me more.
You are a Jedi Master, a wife, a teacher. Now you must be a healer."
     Tears sprang to her eyes, and she briefly glanced at Luke, who was watching her intently.
"But you don't understand," she said, her voice starting to shake. "Neither of you do. I've been
spending a lot of time on Coruscant, Grandfather. I've learned things about myself..."
     Valeris shook his head. "Your blood is not your soul, Mara," he chastised. "Your
husband's father was Darth Vader...and yet do you judge his heart and worthiness by that
standard?"
     She shook her head. "No, that's different...Grandfather, you have to tell me what
happened. You have to tell me who my parents were."
     "But you know," Valeris whispered.
     "I want the entire story, Grandfather, please," she begged. "I have to know. The best I can
do are just brief memories, flashes of events. It isn't enough!"
     Valeris sighed. "Very well. Your mother was my daughter...her name was Menara Jade.
You were named for her. She was so beautiful...she had your green eyes and hair as black as the
night." His eyes grew hazy with the memories, as if he were seeing her before him. Perhaps he
was, Mara wondered. "Her mother...my wife...died when she was very young, and Menara grew
up rebellious. Like me. Like you." He glanced at her lovingly. "But her rebellion took her away
from here, and I heard rumors that she wound up becoming a concubine in some grand court
somewhere...."
     "Palpatine's court," Mara said, her voice shaking. Vaguely, she felt Luke jump.
     "Yes," Valeris said after a pause. "She managed to escape somehow, but when she
returned home she was pregnant. She married your step-father, Dayved, but Menara insisted that
you have her last name. I helped to raise you because they were so very young and didn't know
much of anything about children." He chuckled slightly with the memory, and then his face grew
deadly-sober. "Then Palpatine found you, and in his rage he killed your mother and your step-
father and took you away. I was sent into exile because I had tried to cover up the fact that
Menara had given birth to an offworlder's child--we had already closed our planet off in those
days. The results were disastrous, so I was sent away. But I didn't care. I spent the rest of my life
here, and I do not regret it." His hand had long since slid away from her face, but now it returned
there, only to graze her cheek. "Mara, you have to understand...Seth, he needs you. He is just like
you, lost and alone."
     Mara nodded, and then her eyes narrowed. "Something tells me, Grandfather," she said,
her voice shaking slightly, "that Seth means more to you than you're telling me."
     Valeris did laugh this time. "I knew I couldn't keep too much from you," he said. "Yes,
perhaps you've already seen it. The eyes...the green eyes."
     Mara's heart accelerated. "The family eyes."
     "Seth's mother was my cousin. Her name was Iyala. Vaiya's aid, the one who sponsored
her into the Order of Yejion...she is her descendant. My grandparents had many children, and
Iyala's father was lost in the shuffle. Iyala was headstrong and stubborn and rebellious as well.
She took up a job as a bounty hunter, although she wasn't very good at it. She wound up getting
involved with a Zabrak named Khameir Sarin. I met him once, when she brought him to our
homeworld, before the isolation. He was an angry man, completely centered upon himself and
gaining power. When Seth was born...he was named for his father, Khameir. But not too long
afterwards, Khameir left her to join the cult. They gave him the name Darth Maul."
     Mara turned deadly white. "Maul was Seth's father?" she whispered, glancing at Luke.
     "Yes. And Seth was never told. Maul brought his son into the cult, stole him from his
mother. They remade him, renamed him Darth Seth. Not too long afterwards, Maul murdered
Iyala and the Jedi Knight who was supposed to be protecting her. By then Maul had left the cult
and was serving Palpatine. He was later killed by Obi-Wan Kenobi, your first teacher, Luke."
     The Jedi Master took it all in during a stunned silence. Then, finally, he managed, "Does
Seth know this?"
     Valeris shook his head. "I didn't know it myself until recently. It all just came together,
after all that Seth has told me about his life, what he can remember. I'd been helping him put the
pieces back together, but now..." he sighed, the air rattling in his lungs. Mara hastily wiped a
smear of blood away from his lip.
     "I'm sorry, Grandfather," she said softly. "I should not have made you talk so much."
     "No," Valeris replied, his voice tired. "It needed to be said. It was why I brought you
here, because you needed to know." He grinned at her, weakly. "I hate to dump this on your lap,
Mara."
     She shook her head. "You've done so much, Grandfather."
     "Not nearly enough," he wheezed, and then took another heavy breath. His hand suddenly
gripped Mara's arm as a seizure racked his body, and then passed. When he opened his eyes,
much of the light had faded out of them.
     "It's close," Luke whispered.
     Mara nodded. "I wonder how much is cost him to tell us what he did."
     "Not so much that you can talk about me like I'm not here," Valeris said, his eyes
chastising them. "It's certainly taking it's time, though. I guess after living for over a hundred and
twenty years, my body has gotten used to surviving. But everything has its time. This is my
time." He looked at Mara again, tenderly. "I'm sorry."
     She shook her head. "You have no reason to be."
     "I do...we all do, Mara. There's always something in our lives that's wrong, something we
weren't able to conquer, some secret we're carrying. It only takes us to our deathbeds and then it
leaves us..." he shuddered in pain again, his back arching slightly with the force. Blood coated
his lips, and there was a gurgling sound. Luke helped Mara wipe the blood away, try to hold him
down, and attempt to help the pain pass, but when Valeris finally calmed, his skin was far past
even the pale healthiness of Mara's almost-white skin. He was practically translucent.
     "That's why..." he whispered, his voice barely audible. "That's why we....need our
Faith....that's why...Yejion...is so merciful...He knows...He knows we are...flawed."
     "Hush," Mara soothed, the tears starting to run down her face. "Please...."
     Valeris shook his head, the last bit of his strength in the gesture. "Still...you do not
understand, Mara. You cry for me...but I would rather...you pray...."

     Vaiya stared at the palm of her hand, where the pale line of the cut had healed. The scar
was four months old, ready to blend back into her flesh. It crossed one identical to it, except the
older one had only left a faint line and crossed the center of her palm. The newer one was lower,
at the heel of her hand, just under her thumb, barely extending it's tail end to just intersect with
the older wound.
     She sighed. What could she have been thinking?
     Glancing up, she saw Larin, deep in prayer, his hands folded before him, his fingers
intertwined so tightly they were turning white. His forehead was pressed against his thumbs, but
even in the shadows Vaiya could see how pale and withdrawn his face was, how his lips moved
slightly with the force of his efforts.
     The urge to reach out to him was so strong it almost made her twitch. He had held her so
fast as they'd waited at Valeris' bedside for Mara and Luke to come. He had comforted her so
sweetly on the trip down here...perhaps keeping close to her because of Seth's presence.
     Still, he did not suspect.
     His dislike for Seth was not something that she would have expected, for it was not a
conscious dislike. It was something instinctual, like a natural aversion. It seemed to be mutual,
for Seth had come no nearer to her since he'd arrived at her home than the doorway to the next
room. It wasn't that he didn't want to--but he was no fool.
     That, and he loved her.
     Her eyes were boring so hard into Larin that he finally looked up, his face returning to
color. "What is it?" he whispered.
     The overwhelming shame of it swept over her, and she felt the old tears she'd shed at
Valeris' bedside start to run in full force, streaking down her cheeks. For four months she'd lived
with this secret. After seven beautiful years of marriage, she'd gone off and destroyed their bond
and he didn't even realize it! It made every second of the last four months seem like a lie. What
had she been doing? Denying it? No, she had confessed it to the Elders, sworn to secrecy by their
sacred oaths, and even done the purification process.
     Still, she had not told him! Why hadn't she confessed it? Did she think that was it, that
after that she could just forget it? Or perhaps it was because if it had been a simple indiscretion,
it would have mattered less, that she could have run to Larin like a frightened child, not
understanding why she had done such a stupid thing, professing that she detested her actions and
would never stray from him again. And he would have forgiven her that. Larin knew what it
mean to slip and fall, to be a victim to one's own inner demons. Under one of his lesser moments
he had even tried to harm Vaiya herself, and yet she'd forgiven him. He would have done no less.
He would have embraced her and forgiven her and given her chance upon chance. She knew that
about him, as surely as she knew her own soul.
     It broke her heart.
     "Vaiya?" He was starting to look frightened. Perhaps he was starting to see it. The strain
of the last four months had been brushed aside. She'd even overheard him once say to a
companion that any marriage, after seven years, had problems. He'd called it a sticky spot, an
"air pocket," and claimed it would pass over and then come again, that they would learn to live
with these times, that they were inevitable and as necessary as the good, happy ones.
     It wasn't that she hadn't been loving...perhaps a bit more so than usual. But a part of her
mind kept him at arm's length. She was careful to keep a little bit of herself away, like she was
holding back. At first, it seemed like nothing. He even respected it. But now, it was festering like
gangrene in a small cut. The tension between the two had once been like a very low hum, an
almost natural sound, like that of a healthy engine or a field bustling with life.
     As his multi-colored eyes met her blue-green ones, she knew that within a few seconds,
he would know everything.
     "Vaiya!" Her mother's voice. A ripple in the Force, a flickering, like a fading light.
Valeris was dying. She stood up and extended her hand--the scarred one, she noted, but did not
pull it back.
     He grasped her fingers, his eyes still locked onto hers.
     "Not now," she whispered.
     He stood and nodded, but released her hand to grasp her shoulders. "Whatever it is,
Vaiya," he said huskily, his eyes so beautiful as they stared into hers, "whatever it is..."
     She nodded. She could hardly breath, the urge to sob was so strong. "I love you," was all
she could say, and he led her back to Valeris' deathbed.

     They were all gathered around now, Luke and Mara on his left side, Vaiya and Larin on
his right, Ben at his feet, Seth a short distance behind him, watching. Ben tried to urge him
forward, but Seth could not move. He was rooted to his very spot.
     Valeris's eyes were unfocused but open, and his breathing was getting shallower. His
head lolled slowly from Mara to Vaiya, and he squeezed Vaiya's fingers ever so slightly.
     "Don't name your children for me," he said, his voice still holding his old humor. "Give
them a better chance than that."
     "Don't try and talk," Mara said, her voice rising slightly in agony as the terrible sounds
accompanied Valeris' words.
     He glanced at his granddaughter and smiled. "But I want to talk," he said. "It's the
last...chance...I'll get...." More blood. Now it was running in a stream down his cheek, and no
amount of wiping was staying it. "Maybe when you get...as old as me...Mara....you'll learn
to...talk more."
     "That's all I need," Luke said, his hand on Mara's head, gently stroking her hair. The fact
that he was holding Mara together was not something easily hid from the others, but no one
dared to comment.
     Valeris smiled at him. "Old Jedi...you'll live a long time. You all will...you'll see my
days...and more...." He was almost choking now, every word a struggle. "Don't cry for
me...I'm...getting...off...easy..." He hacked, and for a second, everything cleared. "You know...the
last thing...I wanted...in my life was...to see a bunch...of crying...faces...."
     Ben laughed. "What do you expect from a bunch of women?"
     Valeris laughed. It was a terrible sound, but Ben's comment at least got Mara and Vaiya
to lift their sad faces.
     "It's only because we love you, you old sand-crab," Vaiya said, pushing back her tears.
     "If you love me...wait until I'm dead before you start crying." He paused. "And when you
go back...I want you to throw a banquet for me....have a grand time...."
     "We will," Ben said. "I'll make sure."
     "You're a good boy, Valery. You're almost worthy of my name." He laughed, but his eyes
had glazed over and he was no longer seeing anything.
     "They say the first thing to go is your sense of humor," Ben shot back.
     "In that case....I should live...forever...."
     Vaiya shuddered as the grip on her hand weakened. She reached with her mind, but
Valeris' eyes were closing, and his entire body was going slack. A flicker remained, and she
caught something---a brief vision, something Valeris had been carrying with him that was
coming up to the light as his soul departed from this world.
     She gasped as it rushed at her, a blinding stream of light filled with memories. She could
hear him in her mind, strong and sure, telling her something that she couldn't understand.
     When her eyes cleared, Valeris' head rolled to the side, and his chest sunk in, letting out
the last burst of air.
     He was gone.

<:::::::::::::::::::::||||||||||#|||()

     Burial was something no one had really considered, but to their surprise, Seth had
already dug a grave for Valeris in the cathedral. They wrapped him in the heavy linen cloths that
they found among his things--burial cloths, Larin pointed out. Valeris had always intended to be
buried here.
     It was Vaiya who objected. "He should be buried according to the rites of the Order," she
said, even as they prepared the body. Mara and Luke took up the job, while Ben helped Seth put
all of Valeris' things on order. "It isn't right for us to just put him in a hole in the ground."
     Larin pulled out some old books that were stuffed under Valeris' sleeping pad. One of
them was written in the old Durranian language. To his surprise, he could read some of the
words.
     "Maybe," he said, rising. "But these books contain burial rites."
     "You're not a priest, Larin," Vaiya said, her face uncharacteristically angry. "I mean it.
We should send for someone and have a decent ceremony."
     "Valeris asked to be buried here," Seth spoke up for the first time that day. All eyes
turned to him, but he did not flinch from their gazes. "If you were to take him into the city, it
would mean a long journey in the hot sun. His body would not survive it. And no one will come
out here. They are forbidden--this is an exile's place. We have no choice but to bury him here."
     "Burying the dead is an act of mercy," Luke said. "It doesn't have to be a big ceremony.
Valeris lived most of his life out here. He wants to stay."
     Mara placed the last cloth over Valeris' face and motioned for Luke to help her pick up
him and lay him on the heavier mat, the one they would use to lower him into the ground. "We're
ready," she said, her voice solemn as she picked up some of the cords. Immediately, Seth joined
her side, grasping more of the cords, and Ben took his place in front of his father. The four of
them processed to the cathedral with Larin behind them, who was beginning to chant some of
the old prayers from the books.
     Vaiya watched them go, feeling a terrible heaviness in her heart. She gathered the small
bundle of things that had been lain aside to bury with Valeris and followed, bringing up the rear.

     When they stopped, Larin continued to read the prayers, louder this time, pausing in
between to say what they were in Basic, and then continuing. His voice became more like a hum,
musical in nature, heavy and solemn and yet there was an ethereal quality to him. The bearers
lowered him into the ground after Vaiya had placed the small bundle onto Valeris' chest,
arranging the items carefully. There she stood, between her mother and Seth, watching them
lower the body into the ground...she felt a sharp flicker from Seth, knew that the careful dam
he'd kept in front his emotions was cracking, especially with her so close to him.
     His loneliness was terrible...almost tangible in the dimness of the cathedral. They had lit
all the old candles and even brought in new ones so that the room had a soft, golden glow, but it
was not enough. As they carefully used the ropes to wrap the ends of the heavy cloth around the
body after it was in the grave, Larin's voice rose, this time in real passion, and Vaiya glanced at
her husband to see that tears were streaming down his face.
     She stood there, lost. At the same moment that she felt an almost painful love for Larin,
Seth was practically crying out for her in his heart, and she could not have turned from him even
if she wanted to. As he let go of the rope and stepped back, Luke and Ben began to shovel the
dirt onto into the grave. He raised his head and she saw the bright markings, but the shadows
were so heavy that it was only a few seconds before the red faded and she could see him as she
had always seen him.
     A curious emotion came over her. Her guilt before had all been directed toward Larin,
but now she felt like her marriage to him was a complete betrayal. As she stared at Seth, wanting
to comfort him but unable to move, she wondered if she was going mad. How was it possible to
feel this way for him, after all this time? But it should not have surprised her, she realized. She
had fallen so easily into sin with him...it would not have been possible if her emotions had not
been so strong. Sure, she had tried to dismiss it as lust, as if that made the guilt any less. Surely
her love for Larin would have protected her from such a callous indiscretion. She must feel
something for Seth, something powerful.
     Perhaps that was now why the scream of the guilt was unbearable. As she stared at Seth
and finally found the strength to reach out one hand to him, which he grasped gently and yet
desperately, she saw her life as it might have been. She saw that Larin had never returned to her
but had disappeared again, as he had done before. She saw that Seth had come back to her at this
moment, had claimed that their destinies were true and that he could not live without her. Her
life would have begun at this moment, her life with Seth....
     If she could just shut her eyes, for one glorious moment, it would be real. The pressure
on her heart would cease, and her confusion dissipate.
     Then Larin fell silent, and Vaiya turned her head. He was staring down into the grave,
watching at Luke and Ben did their work. Mara stood alone, her arms wrapped around her, and
her true age showed just slightly in the set of her jaw.
     *No,* she heard him say, and it took her a second to realize that it was Seth. *This is
your life. If it had been the other way, you would have been torn to him from me.*
     She shook her head. *I lose either way.*
     He squeezed her hand, and she turned back to him to find that he was smiling at her, ever
so slightly. *You have not lost, Vaiya.*
     Of course he would say that. To him, she was the prize. She let go of his hand and
stepped away, putting a sound plug into her emotions. She walked toward Larin, who looked up
as she approached and pulled her to him.
     "We have to talk," he whispered into her hair.
     "Now?" she whispered back, her voice curiously dry. "Why now, Larin?"
     "If not now, when?" He looked at her, his eyes serious. "Vaiya, whatever this is, it's
killing you. You have to tell me."
     "Even if it will hurt you?"
     There was a flicker in his eyes. "Will it hurt me more the longer you keep it in?"
     To her own horror, she nodded.
     After a few more moments of silence at Valeris' grave, Larin pulled her away.

     "I'm not objecting," Luke said as Mara paced the sands, the sun lowering in the sky above
them, the vicious heat starting to ebb away, "to the fact that you made a deathbed promise. I
have no problem with taking in Seth, or Khameir, or whatever his name really is. That isn't the
point, Mara!"
     She stopped pacing and sighed. "I know, I know," she said. "But I HAVE to go back to
Coruscant! The only reason I left was because of this! I have to get back as soon as possible!"
     "Maybe if you told me why," Luke said dryly, "I would understand. Come on, Mara,
what's with you? Since when was there anything that you couldn't tell me?"
     She looked at him, hard. "Why haven't you said anything about the fact that Palpatine
was my father?"
     There was a long silence before he answered. "Would anything I say change it?"'
     "It might change how I feel about it."
     He stepped forward and took Mara into his arms. "No it wouldn't," he said, a small smile
turning up the corners of his mouth. "Mara, we've been married for a long, long time. The fact
that you've just learned this now changes nothing between us."
     "I know that," she said, giving him a little shove. "But I feel like it's...I don't know...
changed me."
     He shook his head. "Trust me, it hasn't. You're still the same stubborn, sarcastic, bull-
headed ex-smuggler rogue Jedi Master that you always were."
     She narrowed her eyes at him, but she was smiling. "Rogue?"
     "We're all rogue now, what with that new council taking over the order. It's only a matter
of time before they start telling me I'm not a Jedi Master."
     She grunted. "Yeah, I'd like to put them in their place."
     "Anger is of the dark side...." Luke said in a soft, sing-song voice.
     "And passion?" she said, her eyes twinkling.
     "Supposedly," he said, lowering face close to hers.
     She pouted. "Darn." And then she pushed him back, toppling them both onto the sands,
her on top of him, her heavy weight causing him to suddenly become aroused.
     "Master Skywalker," she said, rubbing the length of her body across his and enjoying his
every reaction--even the ones he wasn't aware of--"perhaps you should rethink that passion-is-of-
the-dark-side-speech you give to the trainees. They may wind up getting the wrong idea."
     He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her down to him. "Later," he said, and kissed her.
As he attempted to roll her under him, she fought back, and the two went flaying, one over the
other, down the nearby dune, laughing and shrieking all the way. The sounds echoed off the
wide emptiness around them, but after a few minutes, it died down to the low, murmuring
vibrations of their moans of pleasure.

     The last of the light was fading from the sky as they lay there, drowsy. "Not very
appropriate mourning behavior, is it?" Mara murmured, her lips against Luke's chest.
     He sighed. "I don't know. You know how it used to be in those old holovids...the heroes
would come so close to death, and then have to reaffirm their life--"
     "--by having wild sex," Mara finished, raising her head. Her red hair spilled over her
shoulders and she shook it, sending up a small cloud of sand.
     He shrugged, smiling at her. "Works for me." He tugged at her hair. "I love you, Mara."
     She pulled herself up, her breasts dangling in his view briefly before she settled back
down on top of him. "I love you, too, you pain-in-the-butt."
     His smile narrowed mischievously. "Do that again," he said.
     She grinned. "If I did, we'd never get back inside."
     He groaned. "Do we have to?"
     She grew solemn. "Yes."
     He stroked her cheek. "Okay, Mara, out with it. What happened on Courscant."
     So she told him about the database, and the Zabrak, and the ghostal presence of the
Emperor...."After what Valeris told me, I'm starting to have suspicions. I think that Zabrak might
be a clone of Maul."
     Luke grunted. "Age old question...and problem. How much like Maul, if he's a clone?
And didn't you say he was encased in a stasis block?"
     She nodded, her face twisting curiously. "Yes...I've been trying to figure that one out.
You know how I've always had trouble remembering my past? I've always wondered how that
happened."
     "The trauma of seeing your parents killed would be enough," he assured her.
     She shook her head. "No, that might be part of it, but even my first days as the Emperor's
Hand are kind of hazy. I mean, it had to be dangerous for any one person to know all the things
that I knew about him...even if I was Palpatine's daughter." To her own surprise, the words came
from her without bitterness. "And something about Seth's tattoo...it always seemed vaguely
familiar to me."
     "So you think he manipulated your memories?" Luke asked.
     "I wouldn't be surprised if I learned that he had," she replied.
     "But all of that should have come back to you when Vaiya gave you back your
memories," Luke pointed out. "I mean, you remembered Durran and Valeris and your life here."
     "If my memories were deliberately erased, then Vaiya couldn't have given them back to
me. It's possible that the memories Vaiya helped me revive were ones that I had suppressed on
my own as a result of trauma. Palpatine," and she shuddered slightly at the thought, "was a very
careful man. You see how all the little traps he's set for us throughout his life have all managed
to go off without warning. After finding that database and the things he stored down here, Luke,"
she said, lowering her voice, "I'm ready to believe that there was nothing the man would not do
to avenge himself upon us."

     The shock of the confession nearly set off a chain reaction. It was all that Larin could do
to contain himself and keep the ripples from flying off into the Force and alerting everyone as to
the nature of the situation. But that was the last thing he wanted, so he tried.
     Yejion help him, he tried.
     At first, his reaction was complete shock. Why would she have done that? What had he
done to make her do it? He remembered the time so vaguely...four months, four months...what
had happened four months ago? Had there been problems? Yes, there was that disagreement...
okay, it was more than a disagreement, it was a fight. But surely that wasn't the reason. Vaiya
had left for a short time afterwards, gone to visit Valeris...that was when it happened. She had
been depressed and melancholy, part of the reason they had fought, and Larin had even urged her
to go away for a time, to meditate and pray. He'd wanted to join her like he had those other
times, but she'd said she needed time and some space. When she'd returned, everything had been
perfect again.
     Everything.
     The shock faded and then swelled again, this time turning to rage. He wanted to grab her
and shake her and make her swear to never go near the man again, to complete swear him off
and forsake him completely. He wanted to hurt her, to make her cry and feel the pain her
confession had inflicted upon him. He wanted to scream into her face all sorts of obscenities, to
strike back in kind.
     But that was useless...no matter how strong it was. The anger fell back slightly, replaced
by something stronger.
     Sadness.
     It was like he'd just swallowed a huge, jagged rock. He shut his eyes, and his chin fell
into his chest, the weight unbearable. She had been untrue to him, but not just with her body.
With her body, maybe he could have taken it. He knew the ways a person's body could betray
them, how weak they could be no matter how much they wanted to resist. He knew of such
things all too well.
     But no, that was not it. The worst of it was that even now, as she stood before him,
humbly giving him his space and not sobbing even though the tears streamed down her cheeks,
the epitome of repentance, Larin knew that Vaiya loved Seth.
     *I love you,* she sent through the Force, almost unable to help herself. He wanted to slap
the words away, but her mind could not lie to him.
     He lifted his head and looked at her, in complete agony. "Why did you wait so long to tell
me?" he whispered, his voice failing him.
     "Because I knew it would hurt you."
     "Maybe you could have thought of that before you did it," he said, the darkness getting
the best of him for the moment. He leaned back against a low outcropping of rocks. The room
they had picked was dim...Vaiya's old sleeping chambers.  "Where was it? Was it here?" he
asked, his face suddenly a mask of horror.
     She shook her head.
     "Then where?"
     Her face twisted slightly. "Do you want to know?"
     He shook his head. "That's why you wanted him buried in the city, isn't it?"
     It took her a second to realize what he meant..."No, not consciously. Maybe. I don't
know."
     "You don't know." He turned away from her, feeling sick. The worst of it was, the more
he thought about it, the more it hurt...and the fact that it hurt so much just reminded him of how
much he loved her. He glanced at her over his shoulder. "You could at least try and defend
yourself."
     "Why?" she whispered. Her face was completely red now, and even the skin of her
shoulders was flushed in her shame. She was shaking slightly, her hands hanging loose at her
sides, not even trying to hold back.
     He felt something unexpected...defeat. "Do you want to be with him?" His voice sounded
small, even to him.
     She started. "I'm married to you," she said, her voice beginning to regain strength.
     He turned back to her. "Answer the question, Vaiya," he said sharply.
     "I did," she said, her eyes wide. "I'm your wife, Larin. I'm not leaving you!"
     "What if I left you?"
     The words were soft, but she stepped back as if he'd struck her. Her face crumpled and
she looked down. "That would be your choice."
     Then came the big one, the words that were stuck like a giant knot of wire in his throat.
"Is this your revenge against me for Iyala?"
     The horror that leapt onto her face was almost enough to make him apologize, but
instead, she just slowly shook her head.
     "You were innocent of any wrongdoing to me, Larin," she said, her voice tight. "That she
loved you, we can't help that." The memory of the fight, though, was painful. Vaiya barely
managed to say,  "I haven't held it against her. She doesn't even know that I know."
     "Yes, but you left to stay with Valeris only a short while after I told you about her
feelings. Was it revenge? If it was revenge, Vaiya, tell me."
     She was silent for a long time, too silent. He could almost hear her thoughts--*had* it
been revenge? Her memories were buried under layers of denial and repression that she had
yanked away all at once, and pieces still clung to them, smothering the details. The fact that she
had to think about it made him angry, so angry that he lunged at her, letting his anger claim the
moment. He grabbed her arms, wanting to shake her but restraining himself. "Dammit, Vaiya!
How can you be in love with both him and me? You can't have it both ways, you know! You
have to choose!"
     "I did choose!" she cried, this time the sob breaking. "I chose you!"
     "But you still slept with him!"
     "I know!" Her voice rose and echoed off the rock walls around them. "I know I did, and it
was wrong! And I'm sorry!"
     Larin softened and pulled her into his arms as she wept. He shut his eyes, knowing she
was in as much pain over her own confusion as she was over hurting him. It was the price he
paid for knowing her so well.
     "If things had been different...if I hadn't returned to you...."
     "But they aren't different," she managed brokenly. "This is how they are and I wouldn't
change it."
     "Wouldn't you?" he whispered.
     "Never. I swear it on my life. How can you ask me that, after what happened with Iyala?"
     His voice was ice cold. "You know that that is exactly why I'm asking, Vaiya."
     She flinched, hard. "I know," she groaned. "Oh, Larin...." and she moaned, a deep moan
coming from her very soul. "I'm so sorry. If it takes the rest of my life I will make it up to you."
     He sighed. "You don't have to. I love you, Vaiya. I'm not letting you go so easily. But this
doesn't exactly help me have a lot of sympathy for Seth. And he's got nowhere to go, now."
     She was silent for a long time, letting her tears pass. "I did think about it...but after what
happened between us, I don't think Seth would have come with us."
     "At least he's honorable that way." Larin sighed. The pain in his heart had passed over for
a while, but he knew it would return. It would take a long time for this one to heal.
     "Do you think you'll ever be able to trust me again?" she whispered.
     He pulled her away slightly, looking down into her eyes, as bright as old Naboo with the
tears she'd shed. "You're still my wife, and I plan on keeping it that way," he said. "And no
marriage can work without trust."
     She shook her head. "It will never happen again. I swear I will never go near him again,
as long as I live."
     He nodded his head. The words were almost comforting. "Don't make promises you
might regret making," he said, his voice sad. "Vaiya, I love you. But I'm not going to keep you
against your will, either. Just as you said you wouldn't keep me against mine."
     They just stared at each other for a long moment, Vaiya absorbing what Larin was
offering her. The impact of his love for her was tremendous. She nearly felt faint.
     "I'm not leaving you, Larin," she said, her voice growing steady. She locked her arms
around his abdomen. "I didn't then and I won't now. Till death do us part, remember?"
     He looked down into her face, and realized the urge to kiss her was unbearable. He
crushed her lips under his own, as if he wanted to absorb her, swallow her. She accepted the
kiss, returned it with equal passion. Before he knew it, he was on his knees before her, pulling
her down. He stopped, gasping for air, realizing that he wasn't acting out of love, but out of some
desire to reclaim her.
     "Don't stop," she whispered, her hair falling all around him. "Make love to me, Larin."
     He tried to push her away. "This won't solve anything, Vaiya," he warned.
     The tears were in her voice again. "I know. I know that. But I need you anyway."
     She stepped back, pulling him with her toward the sleeping pad. He had no choice but to
follow.

     "We are a twisted family, aren't we?" Mara commented as she glanced around the room
for the last time.
     Luke chuckled. "What made you say that? Not that it isn't true."
     Mara shrugged. "I don't know. Something is going on with Larin and Vaiya, I know that
much. I think we'd better get going and soon."
     From the other side of the room, Ben appeared, looking slightly disheveled. "He's
packing his things. I don't think he knows where he's going."
     "He's going with us," Mara said. "Or rather, with me."
     "You? Where are you going?" Ben asked.
     "Back to Coruscant," Luke answered for her.
     "That means Seth is going back to Coruscant," Ben said. "Are you sure he'll go for that?
Don't you think you should ask him first?"
     Mara nodded, and turned to head down the hallway to Seth's room, but the man beat her
to it, appearing in the doorway with his hood thrown back and his face fully exposed in the light.
     They all stared at him for a moment, but he calmly nodded at them. "I thank you for
allowing me to stay for the burial," he said, his voice sounding a bit more human than before.
"But I must leave."
     "Yes, but not alone," Mara said. "I want you to come with us." She paused, and then
rephrased her question, "I ask you, please come with us."
     He looked startled as his green eyes turned to Mara. She was struck by the resemblence.
Perhaps they should make a quick trip to Vaiya's home. Iyala had a right to know about their
relation, however distant. "Why? Did Valeris---"
     "Yes, but that isn't why," Mara said, casting a quick glance at Luke. "Look, there are
some things that you need to know about yourself. You have a past that you can't remember...
well, so do I. But I learned that if you want to remember the past, you have to live in the present.
You have no future here. But I can help you find one."
     "But why do you want to help me?" he seemed very lost now, almost as if he were
shrinking before them.
     "We know about dark pasts, here," Luke offered, stepping forward. "None of us has a
clean slate. We all come from families that were torn apart by the dark side. Trust me, you may
feel different, but you're no different than any of us."
     Seth looked around them, his eyes landing on Ben. "I am different," he said. "You do not
know any more about my past than I do--"
     "But we do," Mara said, low and even. He turned to her, his eyes narrowing slightly.
     "What do you know? Tell me," he urged.
     "I will tell you everything I know, I promise. But not here. You must come with us,
Seth," she said, nearly pleading. "You can't spend your life running and hiding." She reached out
and grasped his hand. Luke was mildly startled---he hadn't realized that her intentions to help
Seth ran so much deeper than just a deathbed promise until that moment. He didn't know
whether to be admiring or afraid.
     He smiled at her, a small, sad smile, and guestured toward his face. "And this?" he said.
"Are you sure you want to take this upon yourself? I am also much older than any of you, Master
Jade...I could be more trouble to you than I'm worth."
     "Trust me," she said, a wry grin appearing on her face, "you could be no more trouble to
me than I have been to myself. And by the way," she added, "my name is Mara."

     On board the Jaded Sky II, Mara played with the dials. Durran may have reopened its
communication lines with the rest of the galaxy, but that didn't make a signal that much easier to
catch. Behind her, Ben was explaining a few important things about the ship to Seth, and Luke
was carting the small bundle of stuff Seth had packed with him into the guest room. They were
making a bit too much noise, and as soon as the picture came in, she was determined to hush
them up. She had to know what was happening on Coruscant...she had a very bad feeling...
     "Larin and Vaiya are heading back alone," Ben was saying to his father as the signal was
starting to crystalize. "They asked if we could catch a ride with you."
     Mara waved her hand at him. "Fine, fine..." Okay, she would have to make a little side
trip. No biggie...as long as..."Leia!" she cried, getting their private chambers. "It's Mara! Can you
read me?"
     "You're kind of shaky," Leia replied, and her eyes shifted to look behind Mara, softening
in greeting. "Hello, Luke."
     "Hi, Leia," he said warmly, settling into the co-pilot's seat.
     "How soon can you return to Coruscant, Mara?" Leia asked.
     "I'm going to drop Luke and Ben off at Vaiya's and then we're heading out."
     "'We?'" Leia echoed. "Who--?"
     "I'll explain later. What did the team find?"
     "Same thing you did." The lines tightened on Leia's face, and instantly they knew that
something had happened.
     "And?" Mara pressed.
     "They let him out."

<::::::::::::::::::::::::||||||()()()()||||||:::::::::::::::::::::::::>

     When he came into consciousness, the first thing he wondered was what had happened.
He had vague, clouded memories. Were they his? Perhaps. His Master had grown stronger while
he'd been away, and had abilities that he had never imagined. On the first awakening,  he had
been disoriented, even frightened, remembering only his terrible death at the hands of that
*boy..* But the Master had been there, ready for him. Comforting him, showing him things he
had never imagined. Showing him his new powers, his new place in the galaxy. Showing him
how the Sith had risen again.
     But these were not the faces of his Master's servants over him. They were too clear and
bright to be servants of the dark. He flinched as they touched him, prodding him, smothering
him.
     "Can you understand me?" one of them said, an older man. Perhaps a doctor. He resisted
the urge to reach up and crush the man's throat.
     "Yes," he growled, struggling with his patience. He was disoriented, weak. He had to
depend on these people if he wanted to survive. Even now, he could feel his body begin to
complain under the duress.
     Who had done this to him? He was not supposed to have been sent back...and this was
not like the first time. He had his memories, he knew who he was. It was like he'd been asleep
for a very long time....
     Then it came to him---a black helmet, a dark, mechanical face, and a deep, rasping voice
that sucked in the air around him like a vacuum.
     "Vader," he gasped, the rage flying up inside his chest. "Vader! VADER!"
     He had to hold him down as his muscles began to spasm with the excitement. *Vader*
had done this to him! His Master's new apprentice, now a Sith Lord, the one Sidious had
suspected was going to betray him. Vader had captured him, imprisoned him in something that
had held him in stasis for only the ancient sith lords knew how long.
     He reached out with the Force, searching for the familiar dark presence. Instead he met
only oblivion. It came to him quickly, overwhelmingly. His Master was dead.
     He fell back onto the hospital bed, the despair crashing in on him. It was too much, too
fast. He'd been out for too long, even his incredible physiology couldn't keep up with it. The
machines around him started to howl their warnings and the people rushed about him, struggling
to keep him alive.
     He wanted to die. Everything was lost...lost....
     And then came the dark side.
     Now, it was his time.
     He opened his eyes, and his heart began to pump strong and steady. He had survived too
much to give up now. He would live through this trauma as he had lived through the one before
it. He would relearn what he had forgotten and unlock the secrets of this time. Whoever was
responsible would pay. If Vader still lived--he lacked the strength to reach into the dark side and
know for sure--he would have his revenge, and if not upon him, then upon his children, and upon
his children's children....
     He smiled as he drifted into a heavily drugged sleep. At last, his time had come.....

     "I tried to make them stop," Leia explained, even as the other links went off behind her,
foretelling and incoming emergency. "The team we sent down had a leak. Word got back to the
Cloning Protection Agency and they stepped in and gained custody of the...of him before we
could even try to cover it up."
     "Cloning Protection Agency?" Ben whispered.
     "A small organization that apparently has more power than we thought," Luke muttered.
"They got all angry at me after we killed the Palpatine clones. They think that every clone as a
right to live, even if they're a clone. And they're not wrong, but they are a bit on the wacky side."
     Mara grunted. "Perfect. Yejion knows what will come of this."
     Leia turned and listened to someone behind her give a quick report. "Okay," she said, and
then turned back to the holovid. "I've got to go. There's been some trouble and now I have to
explain to the powers that be that I didn't authorize any deactivation. Because he wasn't actually
in a working cloning tube, and that gave the Cloning Protection Agency some more power to
wield against us. "
     "How?" Luke asked, frowning.
     "Because," Mara explained wearily, "he wasn't actually a growing clone. He was already
'birthed,' and therefore fell under the protection of the same life laws as you or I would. Once a
clone is 'born,' they are considered regular human beings."
     "And they are, I don't disagree with that," Leia said, her voice growing heavy. "But after
what you told me, Mara, I know that we should have done better to keep him in stasis for as long
as possible until we could assess the danger."
     Mara shook her head. "You did your best, Leia. You're not Chief-of-State anymore.
You're not responsible for the whole Republic, not even this one clone. Don't worry about it, I'll
be back as soon as possible. In fact, we're leaving now. Mara out."
     As the image faded away, Luke looked at Mara. "I'm coming with you," he said.
     "No," she shot back, her jaw set.
     "Mara--"
     "NO! Luke, you're needed at the Academy. Things were chaotic there even when I left
and you have to keep them together. You can't let that phoney Council get the best of you!"
     He shook his head. "I don't care, Mara. I don't want you going back to Coruscant alone."
     "I won't be alone."
     "Seth and I will be there," Ben put in.
     His parents looked at him, ready to object, but he held up a hand.
     "This is why I came to Durran!" he said. "I want to complete my training. This sounds
like the perfect opportunity."
     "This isn't a spy mission," Mara pointed out. "This is a real safety threat!"
     "All the more reason! What's the point of being a Jedi Knight anyway if we're not here to
protect people?"
     "He's got a point," Luke muttered.
     Mara snorted. "Sure, be logical. Fine, Ben, you can come. But Luke, you have to go back
to Tattooine."
     Luke glared at her. "Mara, don't give me orders. I don't like this at all. NOT ONE BIT."
     "Let me guess--you have a bad feeling?" They were ready to go at it now, Ben could tell
by the way Mara's cheeks were reddening. "Luke, you are so overprotective! I can't do this with
you at my shoulder every second! I'm not some fragile doll that's ready to fall apart, for sith's
sake!"
     "And what are you going to 'do,' anyway? Don't you realize that that may be a clone of
Darth Maul? We have no idea what it's capable of!"
     Ben distinctly saw Seth flinch at the mentioning of the name. "Maul?" he whispered.
     Mara shot Seth a glance. "Nice going, big-mouth," she growled.
     "Don't change the subject!"
     "Fine! What if I told you that I may have met Darth Maul once? That that may be one of
the memories that Palpatine erased?"
     "See? Mara, you can't even trust your own memory, and you want me to let you face a
potentially dangerous sith lord alone? And just sit on my lightsaber on Tattooine and hope for
the best?"
     "Why not, it's what you're best at!" she shot at him, and then immediately regretted it. Her
face blanched. "Luke, I'm sorry, that's not what I---"
     He shrugged her away. "Apparently it is, or else you wouldn't have said it." He sighed. "I
used to be the adventurer of this family. You used to have to pull my ass out of trouble every
week. Now I've been the one who's gone and gotten domesticated."
     Her eyes sparkled as she looked at him. "We're not as young as we think we are,
Skywalker," she said. "If all things were equal, we wouldn't even be here, doing this."
     "All things are never equal," Luke retorted, his form getting sulky in the cloud of anger
that surrounded him. Mara reached out to him and grasped his shoulder.
     "I'm sorry, Luke," she whispered. "But I mean it...you have to let us go alone."
     He looked at her, and then stood up. "I guess you're giving me no choice. My adventuring
days really are over." And he left the room, heading for their bedroom. Mara didn't watch him
go--she stared out the cockpit window, flinching as the door slid shut behind him.
     Ben let out his breath and glanced at Seth. "That's a rare sight," he whispered.
     Seth's green eyes stared back at him, wide and almost frightened. "Who won?" he
breathed.
     "I don't know." He glanced back at his mother--at the woman he loved as a mother,
anyway. Mara's shoulders were tensed as she grasped the controls of the ship, lifting them off
and taking them back into the city. She was not happy with herself, but she also believed she was
doing the right thing.
     It would be a very good idea to just leave her alone, he decided, and gestured to Seth to
follow him out of the cockpit.

     In her private chambers in Vaiya and Larin's home on Durran, Iyala awoke from the
nightmares in a cold sweat for the fifth time that week. Panting, she rolled over to her side and
grabbed at the cold basin that she kept under the bed, and vomited into it. The fear was
overwhelming, the starkness of it, the bleak reality as it lay out before her, a barren wasteland
overtaking her soul.
     Shaking, she pulled herself into an upright position and tried to calm down.
     The dreams were never the same, but they were all the same. As if they were a part of
some bad holo serial that she'd gotten stuck on. In them, she always saw herself, but it was not
herself, it was a woman who looked like her, only with bright green eyes, like Vaiya's mother's,
Mara. And the woman was in pain, terrible pain. Pain of the body, pain of the soul.
     The first night, it had not been so bad...the woman met and fell in love with a Zabrak
male, and they had made love passionately. So passionately that when the woman had risen the
next day she'd found herself covered with marks from the man's horns. But the dream had not
ended so pleasantly, with a trapped feeling overwhelming her before consciousness saved her.
The feeling had come from the fact that she found herself bonded irrevocably to the man, and
while passion had been enough to sustain her for the first night, the idea of spending a lifetime
with him did not seem like a fairy tale ending.
     The next night, the dream had been broken and jagged, with only flashes and pictures.
The woman bore a son with her green eyes and his father's handsome features. But the Zabrak
was proud and angry and tore their family apart. A Jedi tried to aid them, but the Zabrak was
jealous of the Jedi's feelings for the woman and refused the help. In the end, he left her, and that
second night Iyala had awoken with the shakes and the desire to vomit.
     The third night, the man had returned, but his face was like Seth's...it bore the black and
red tattoo, and he came for his son, who followed him without question. The woman was
heartbroken and desolate, and when Iyala had awoken she had spilled her dinner onto the hard
wood floor. That was when she had brought in the basin.
     The fourth night, the man had returned, and there had been a terrible battle, not just of
body but of soul. The woman was spiritually broken, but still she found the strength to fight, but
only after she knew that her death was inevitable, and that she had nothing to lose. The Zabrak
abused and humiliated her, but still he was not satisfied. There were a few moments when he
seemed to be ready to reconsider his desire to slay her, but always he would return with his rage
and hatred, knowing that she would not succumb to him, no matter what he did to her physically.
Her Jedi friend, who had been protecting her, arrived only in time to meet his own death, and
then she had charged the Zabrak, letting her anger get the best of her, using her last bit of spirit
to strike back, only to fulfill her lost lover's intentions--her own death at his hands.
     But now...oh, the vision now! Iyala struggled to keep from vomiting again. Now instead
of the woman, she saw only the Zabrak, at first with his mask and then without it, and all
through the dream he had been getting closer and closer to her, had been calling her name, and
grinning at her lustfully, saying he was coming for her, coming to claim her....
     And then the woman appeared to her, and Iyala realized this was her ancestor, the one
she had been named for, the woman who could have been her own twin. She was only a pale
ghost of the person she had been, and she was warning her to stay away, to run as far as she
could from the Zabrak, to go nowhere near the battle, for if she tried to fight it would mean her
own demise.
     Iyala had protested, saying that she had to avenge her bloodline, she had to make the
Zabrak pay for what he had done. But instead, her ancestor only shook her head and told her to
stay away, that the dark side was too strong, that it would overpower her and possess her, and it
would mean the ruin of her soul.
     Then, at the very last moment of the dream, the Zabrak had appeared again, banishing
the ghost of Iyala's namesake, and had taken Iyala into his arms and kissed her, filling her with a
wild, insane joy, and she felt such rich power that even the emptiness of her heart where Larin
had deserted her had seemed filled, and he whispered in her ear that when he came to her, all she
had to do was help him and he would never allow anyone to ever hurt her again---
     Why she had awoken from the dream in such a state, she did not know. But there had
been a feeling before consciousness came again. A feeling of being lost, of being completely and
utterly possessed by something so dark and hideous that it seemed to devour her entirely and cast
her into an overwhelming blackness from which she could never find her way out. And as she
screamed, she saw Larin's face pass before her, and saw him reach out his hand, only to pull it
away again as she reached for it, letting her fall into hell itself.
     Iyala took several deep breaths. She knew one thing for certain. She could not stay away.
Whatever happened, it would be soon, and when it did she had to take action. Perhaps she was
only a tweak, but she had to prove herself. She had a purpose in this world, and she would find
it, even if she had to make it herself.
     Stoically, she picked up the basin and disposed of its contents, and then wrapped herself
in her cloak to pass the few hours before the dawn on her bed, doing anything but sleeping.

     They had put him in a stark room with too much light. He didn't even have a cloak to
hide himself in--just some coarse hospital clothes. It was undignified, he sulked, having to be
exposed in this manner. Like he was a pet trapped in a cage, being forced to undergo their
coddling.
     They had not asked him too many questions--not yet, anyway. It was only a matter of
time. The one who brought food to him tried to make idle conversation, but he just glared and
they drew back. At least his red and yellow eyes and his curving horns gave him some of his
former ferocity. And his muscles were still there, even though they were weak from lack of use.
He exercised them regularly, turning the bed on its end to use the legs as lifting bars. He stood
on his hands, stretched himself out from wall to wall, did anything he could to rebuild himself.
They objected and tried to stop him, but did not dare try and strap him down. Their objections
sounded very concerned, almost had a pleading quality, but they were not aggressive jailers.
They seemed to think they were doing him a favor. Well, he'd let them, until the time was right.
     The first time he'd seen his reflection in a mirror, however, they had severely considered
a more severe form of restraint. He'd smashed the mirror and the shards had become weapons in
his Force-grip. He'd almost escaped from them. That was why he was in this little room. But as
long as he did not let them see how dangerous he was again, he would be restricted no farther
than this. But it had been too much, seeing how his glorious tattoo, that he had endured so
stoically in spite of the tremendous pain, had been stripped from him.  He had returned to his old
visage, his pale, blank skin. There were mere traces of it on him now, splotches on his skin. He'd
overheard the doctors talking about it so he knew how it had happened. Somehow, that stasis
block had done this. It had disintegrated the paint, even as it was bonded to his skin. It was faded
and gone.
     Just like the glorious Empire that his Master had built. It, too, was gone. It was the only
time in his life that he had wanted to weep. The Republic had triumphed over his Master and
now controlled the galaxy again. As for the Jedi? He did not know. But his senses told him that
they were around him again. They littered the galaxy...soon, he vowed, he would scatter their
ashes across the very stars they sought to serve.
     He just needed time...and to get away from here.
     Someone was coming...he lifted his head and glanced at the door coolly. It was that
doctor, the one with the white hair and the blue skin. Part twi-lek, part some other creature he
couldn't identify. The man entered the room, his large violet eyes giving a compassionate look.
     It was returned with a sneer.
     "Glad you see you're up," the man said. "It's been three days since we brought you out of
that stasis block. The technology used to keep you was rather new when it was introduced about
27 years ago, but we dated you as imprisoned long before that. Do you remember anything?"
     He just stared at the half twi-lek, keeping his expression serene.
     "Listen," the man said after a pause, "you're not helping anyone with this stubborn
silence." His voice was calm, but the tension in the cell was thick. "We just want to help you get
your life back."
     "Then let me go," was the terse reply.
     "Go where?" the doctor said. "You won't even tell us what your name is. We can't just
release you into the galaxy. What about your family?"
     The reply was a choked but scornful laugh. "I had no family. I came from nowhere. Now,
return me to it."
     The doctor shook his head and sighed. "Fine, you're leaving me no choice. We can't let
you go. We've been forbidden to by the law. There are certain high officials--namely, Leia
Organa Solo--who seem to think that you are a clone of a sith lord who once served Emperor
Palpatine. Now, whoever grew you back obviously had no use for you since they put you in a
stasis block, so technically you're free. But the fact that you were found in a secret storage
chamber known only to Palpatine himself makes us wonder what purpose your creator had for
you. So, you see, we can't let you go. You have too many enemies outside these walls. Your best
option is to let us help you. We're the only ones, I guarantee you, who are on your side."
     He glared at the doctor, his heart brimming with hatred. He could say nothing now...he
dared not tell them that he was not in fact a clone, but the real man. He couldn't confess that
Palpatine himself had regrown his body, and that Vader had imprisoned him because of the
threat he posed to Vader's power. He could not tell them anything that would not keep him their
prisoner. He had to lie. He had to fake weakness. It was the only way to make them turn their
backs on him long enough for him to escape.
     "Great Force," he whispered. "Is that what they think I am?"
     The doctor relaxed visibly. The man took it as a sign that his ploy of innocence had
worked. "Maybe you could enlighten us."
     "My name is---" he searched his memory for a name. Something floated before him, and
while the picture was hazy he knew it was a name they might trust---"Zeren. I was a Jedi Knight
in the Old Republic. I was captured by Palpatine and imprisoned...my memory is hazy of those
times. It has been so long...what year is this?"
     "It's the 40th year of the New Republic, since Emperor Palpatine's death."
     He felt his face blanch, but hoped that the doctor would mistake that emotion for
something more neutral. "Palpatine...is dead?"
     "Yes." The doctor drew back. "You were imprisoned by Palpatine against your will?"
     "Yes." The man shut his eyes, struggling for control. Having to fake joy at his Master's
death was almost unbearable. "My homeworld is Durran. I do not have any family...I was an
orphan. Please," he said, opening his eyes, "if you truly wish to help me, return me to Durran."
     The doctor frowned, and the man could hear the words starting to form in his mind. Their
patient was obvious a Zabrak, not a Durranian. But he reached with the Force, using the old
tricks his master had taught him, and pretty soon, the doctor yielded with a smile.
     "Very well, Zeren," he said. "We'll do whatever we can. I promise."

     A few days into the journey, Mara and Ben sat at the controls. She looked very tired--
there were heavy bags under her eyes, and her face was drawn. Ben knew that part of it was the
fact that they had just told Seth about Darth Maul, and everything that Valeris had passed on to
Mara on his deathbed. It had been a terrible effort--the conversation had lasted hours, with Seth
struggling to put pieces together. Ben had had a feeling that his mother was holding some things
back, but not just from Seth--from him as well. She had mentioned a while back about how Maul
and Seth's tattoos had seemed familiar. Perhaps there were memories there she was trying to put
back together, but wasn't ready to share until they were a bit clearer.
     Mara's memory had been pulled apart and stitched back together so many times it was a
wonder that she had any sanity left at all, Ben marveled. But he knew there was so much wisdom
being all that suffering. She had been that way her whole life, according to his father--Mara
Jade, Emperor's Hand, had never passed up the chance to learn something new about the galaxy
they lived in, especially when that "something knew" reached up to strike at her. "A best defense
is a good offense," the old saying went--Mara lived up to it.
     She glanced at him, feeling his gaze. "What is it?" she asked, her voice slightly ragged.
All the talking had taken its toll on her.
     Ben shrugged. "Just wondering if you're okay," he said.
     Her face softened and she reached out a hand to squeeze his shoulder. "I'm fine, Ben.
Your father and I have fought before."
     He smiled, warmed by the ability she had to read him perfectly. "You know," he said,
frowning slightly as his concerns shifted, "I have to admit that I'm a little surprised that you
didn't let Dad come, but you let me come."
     Mara's eyes narrowed slightly in concern. "Why did you want to come, Ben?" she
whispered. "I get the feeling it's not just a matter of completing your training."
     He shrugged. "I don't know...I hate to admit it but I'm kind of drawn by the adventure
aspect of all of this. I mean, I'm always hearing the stories about the Rebellion, and Derrin and
Drianna are more than willing to talk about how they completed their own training, and about
Cal Saphringer." Mara flinched slightly at the mention of the name, but Ben continued. "I was
kind of worried that all the adventures in life had already been had."
     Mara laughed softly. "Adventure and excitement...a Jedi craves not these things."
     "Master Yoda talked backwards a lot," Ben said with a slight snort.
     "That he did." She laughed with him. "I don't know...I've never really thought it was such
a bad thing to crave a little excitement. I mean, without it a person gets complacent, slow. A Jedi
has to be ready at all times, but a person can't live with that kind of readiness and never have a
reason to use it. I think that's the big draw for the dark side. It gives that worldly release. It
appeals to the flaw in our nature, which may not be a good thing but is a part of us nonetheless.
We have to learn to deal with it."
     "Maybe that's why Father wanted to come," Ben whispered.
     Mara shut her eyes. "Maybe. It's hard, dealing with what happened to us. I mean, as time
passes, my body may still feel young, but inside, I know I'm getting older. It's like being ripped
down the middle. And to be honest, no matter what you may think, your father was always the
one to lead the way when it came to getting into trouble. He may have become a Jedi Master
first, but it wasn't due to his ability to step back and let things happen. I lacked inner peace, but I
never lacked the ability to let people live their own lives. Your father would fix everything for
everyone if he could. He could have easily become the next Palpatine, even if he wasn't evil and
twisted like Palpatine was. Ever since the cult regenerated us, I've always worried that it was
more than Luke's physical youth that came back to him. I mean, we became younger than we
were when we fell in love...at least, when we admitted it." She laughed. "Sometimes I think the
only reason your father proposed to me when he did was because it was only then that he finally
grew up!"
     Ben smiled. "Dad loves you, Mom. He just doesn't want you to get hurt. And his hunches
are more reliable than the best scientific facts."
     She nodded. "I know. Which is another reason I want him to wait this one out. If I get
into trouble, I'm going to need him to come after me. And trust me, when *I* get into trouble,
Master Luke Skywalker is the *only* one who can come to my rescue and not get himself
killed." She smiled. "He's funny that way."

     "You can't be serious," Leia said, leaning heavily on the console beside her. "You can't
take him off-planet! It's far too dangerous!"
     The squad of politicians and doctors and hangers-on merely looked at her, as if one entity
with many eyes. The twi-lek before her, Dr. Quan, mere gazed at her with a mixture of contempt
and scorn.
     "With all due respect, Jedi Organa Solo," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "but
not even you can deny a being the right to visit his homeworld and regain his life. To do so
would be medical cruelty, and there are laws against that! There are no criminal files on him, no
evidence that he is this 'Darth Maul,' or whatever you say he is. We have been at this for a week
through the system and we are making strong headway. Zeren will be released and we will escort
him to the planet of Durran. He will be under guard and under my personal medical care. You
have no choice but to sign the papers for his release. You can do it now, willingly, and save
yourself the embarrassment of being legally ordered to do so later."
     Leia felt her anger rise within her and checked it. There was no way these paper dolls
were going to push her around--she had faced down Darth Vader and Grand Moff Tarkin and
their poker faces were much better than this! "I will not sign that paper, Dr. Quan," she said,
sending back an equal amount of scorn. "You will not be taking your patient anywhere. I don't
care what laws I have to bend, but until Master Jade arrives, he is staying on this planet."
     The doctor's nostrils' flared. "I can see, Jedi Organa Solo, that you still think you have
real power. Since you've taken the title of Jedi, your political pull has long since diminished. I
don't care of Master Luke Skywalker is your twin brother, the Council has openly rejected him
and will not support--"
     "The Council," Leia interjected, the sharp tone of her voice cutting over the doctor's like
a razor, "has invited me to join. I suggest you do not test its will, Doctor."
     He pulled back slightly at this, but did not loose his calm. "Very well," he growled. "But
the Council has no political pull, either. They cannot prevent his release if the system grants it.
And it will grant it."
     Leia shrugged. "The system makes mistakes."
     "So do the Jedi." And with that, he turned and left, his little crew following him like a
comet's tail.
     Leia sighed and collapsed into her chair, shutting her eyes and clasping her hands over
them. This was not turning out to be a good day. Then, from beside her, her personal comlink
beeped.
     "Leia?" It was Han. She smiled and picked up the link.
     "Hello, dear," she sighed.
     "Uh-oh. Bad day?"
     "Just more ruffians trying to get the best of me."
     "They didn't succeed, did they?"
     She smiled. "Oh, no. I just sent them out of here even angrier than before."
     "Ah. Well, I wouldn't worry about it." There was a hint of laughter in his voice. "Those
'doctors' aren't going to get that Zabrak any farther away from the med center as he is now. I can
personally guarantee it."
     Leia brightened. "Who did you talk to?" she half-whispered.
     "Well, it isn't so much who I spoke to, but who spoke for us. Word just came through that
Jacen was elected to take your place in the Senate."
     Leia, in spite of her age, nearly screeched like a teenager in her joy. "That's fantastic!"
she cried.
     Han laughed. "It's good to hear you laugh again, your worship," he said.
     "You made my day, nerfherder," she said, nearly giddy. Then the open line started to
beep. "Hang on, I've got another call."
     "That's fine. I'll see you in a bit, okay? I'm heading on over to congratulate our son."
     "Okay, I'll follow here as soon as I take this call. I love you!"
     "I love you too, Princess." And he clicked off. Still grinning, Leia flicked the other
switch. "Organa-Solo here," she said.
     "Leia!" Mara said, her voice angry and distorted amid the planetary static, "what is this
I'm reading about the petition to release Maul?"
     Leia calmly switched on the holonews and saw the reporter, his green spiky head
flopping back and forth in typical reporter's excitement, introducing a news clip of the twi-lek
doctor, who was speaking out against the illegal imprisonment of innocent Empire victims.
     "It's not happening, not yet," Leia said, sobering. "I just sent them out of the office.
Apparently, word is getting around really fast."
     "Well," Mara said, a touch of cockiness in her voice, "if they want proof that that man is
dangerous, we've brought Seth with us. He can testify---"
     "I'm sorry," Leia interrupted, "but Seth?"
     "Yes, the man I told you about--"
     "The cult leader, Seth? Darth Seth?"
     "He's not a Darth anymore," Mara protested.
     Leia shook her head, sighing. "Mara, that isn't enough! They'll never listen to him!"
     "But he's Maul's son! If anyone can recognize---" There was a break as Mara turned her
attention to someone talking behind her. "Oh, right."
     "Right, what?" Leia pressed.
     "Seth didn't even know Maul was his father until a few days ago...." she trailed off,
thinking hard. "But wait a second. You said they've been trying to find the family, right? Maul's
family, or whatever he told them his name was?"
     "Right."
     "Right, so we just have Seth here legitimately claim that he's Maul's son, and demand a
blood test to prove it. That should keep Maul on this world a bit longer, right? And the blood test
will prove it! And then Seth can say that he's Darth Maul, who was a Sith Lord---"
     "That's wonderful," Leia said, "but one thing--*you* told Seth that the clone was Maul.
Seth didn't say that the clone was Maul."
     "But Seth remembers Maul," Mara pointed out. "He knew him, when he was younger! He
can at least visually identify him!"
     Leia sighed. "That might work," she whispered, "but the fact that Seth was a sith lord too
is going to work against us."
     "He'll be testifying *against* the Empire," Mara pointed out. "That's got to show for
something."
     "Okay, hurry up and dock and I'll send the request down. It might not work, but at least it
will keep him here until we can think of something else. Mara, you have to get back down to that
database. There might be proof there that our guest is really this Darth Maul."
     "Right." Mara shuddered. "Maybe it might even tell us exactly what we're up against. But
I can tell you that if Palpatine wanted him, he was somebody we don't want to tangle with."
     "Too late," Leia said. "But hurry anyway."

<:::::::::::::::::::::::::{{{{{{000}}}}}}::::::::::::::::::::::::::::>

     Things were not going well, not at all. For the first time in his many years, Darth Maul
was beginning to panic.
     They informed him of the arrival of the shuttle a half hour before it actually landed. The
doctor, still unaware of the manipulation that had taken place in his mind, rattled off the details
that had just come in through the door--there was a man claiming the ability to identify him. A
man who said he was his son.
     Khameir Sarin the younger...Iyala's child, who later became Darth Seth and took his
place when he left to serve Palpatine.
     It would have seemed impossible if he did not vaguely remember the Cult of the
Destroyer and its ability to regenerate living cells. It was all buried under a haze, shoved tightly
into the corners of his brain, information that his mind had not needed until now and was
struggling to regain. So the boy had become a man, and that man now served the Republic, eh?
He would see how long that lasted...but first, he had to escape.
     "---has been denied," the doctor finished with a mild flourish. "I'm so sorry, Zeren, but
they're not going to let you go until this mysterious 'Seth' person arrives and gets a chance at
seeing you. There is nothing more we can do."
     "There is," Maul said, his voice nearly a purr. "You can ready a ship."
     "But we--"
     "Ready a ship," Maul pressed, "and I will take care of the rest."
     The doctor stared at him for a long moment, and then turned and left the room. Maul
smiled. Maybe he should have tried this route sooner. Palpatine's petty games did not work for
him as they had for his Master. But then again, Palpatine had sought political power.
     All Maul wanted was his freedom. And now, it would only be a matter of time.

     Mara landed the ship in the private bay, and then unsnapped her lap belt. She stood up,
grabbing the controls for the door in her left hand as she moved and casually flicking the switch
to activate the landing ramp. Ben was all ready to go, with Seth practically in tow. Mara led up
the rear, nearly shoving Seth forward as they went.
     She regarded the horned head before her. *Yeah, this will work,* she noted sarcastically.
They wouldn't believe Seth, not looking like he did. They'd take a single glance at his tattooed
face and probably try to put him in his father's cell--after his father had left it.
     But after all, Mara reminded herself, she was a Jedi Master. She would vouch for him.
They had to listen to her. Or at least, to Leia, who would vouch for Seth if Mara had to threaten
to strangle her with her own braids, in spite of the sisterly love that had grown between the two
women. This was no time for family loyalties. They had to work fast.
     As they hurried through the bay, Mara felt a strange disturbance in the Force. For a
second, it made her pause, and glance up at the sky. The landing bay had a high ceiling but it
was paneled here and there with big glass windows. She saw a few ships streak through, leaving
silver and pink trails of exhaust. Nothing out of the ordinary--
     No, there it was. She stopped completely, and it took a few seconds for her companions
to notice. Seth turned first, and then gasped.
     She glanced at him. His green eyes were wide, his expression uncharacteristically
frightened.
     "He's gone," Seth whispered.
     "Damn." Mara glanced up at the sky again in time to see a ship wink out into hyperspace.
Then, without another second's hesitation, she broke into a dead run for the control station.
     They weren't going to get away that easily.

     Maul felt the disturbance--it made him shudder with its uncomfortable familiarity. It had
been a long, long time since he had sensed the boy, and now he was no longer a boy but a man.
A man who worked with his enemy.
     Wait until the found his farewell present, he thought wickedly. The smell of twi-lek
blood was still on his hands. It had felt remarkably good to refresh that power, to feel the fear.
     He'd forgotten how sweet the fear was. He turned his mind toward it, burying it into the
sensation like a tick into soft flesh. It shut out the disturbing feelings...the memory of Iyala's face
the second she realized he'd stolen her son out from under her nose. The feeling that the galaxy
and turned about to seek its own revenge upon him for his evil, for trying to bring back the sith.
     Now all he had to do was figure out how to control this ship. He'd managed to glean all
he could from Dr. Quan's mind, which told him the basics. His own Sith Infiltrator had been very
advanced, technologically--this wasn't so different, not in the basics.
     At least, that's what he tried to tell himself. A true sith felt no weaknesses. It was so
discomfiting, though, to have his own body and mind betray him. He could not depend totally on
his rage and hate to guide him. His emotions were becoming unstable, unreliable. A byproduct
of his new body? Perhaps. Sidious had not cloned him, not exactly. He had regrown him from
what was left of his body. But the first awakening had not been this bad.
     He'd been with his Master, who had him cared for and slowly brought up to date with the
present galaxy. Although he had been weak from the process, he had rebuilt himself quickly. His
days were filled with training all designed to strengthen his muscles and update his mind. To
what purpose he had not questioned. His Master would show him in time.
     Then the day had come when he'd been allowed to walk among the others again. With his
bright tattoos, Sidious had strictly admonished him to only roam Coruscant at night, and to stay
in the shadows. People could not know of his experiment, could not become aware of Maul's
existence. Maul could not go near the Imperial court, and even though Maul had no desire to
submerge himself in all the glitter, pomp and circumstance, he had resented the fact that he was
kept a secret. He had spent his first life in hiding, doing his Master's bidding. Must the second
life be wasted in the same way? But ever obedient to Sidious' will, Maul waited in the shadows.
     He waited, and he watched.
     His Master had a new apprentice, a man named Vader. There were rumors that Vader
had been a child named Anakin, under Qui-Gon's apprenticeship and then Obi-Wan Kenobi's,
after--and here he always smiled---Qui-Gon had been killed by a mysterious Dark Warrior.
Apparently, Sidious had sought his revenge for Maul's death three-fold. Not only would he take
over the galaxy and wipe out the Jedi Knights, but he would also corrupt the very boy that Qui-
Gon had so desperately believed in. Well, the boy who had slain him, Obi-Wan--or rather,
*thought* he had slain him, Maul thought gloatingly--had not been a teacher like his own
master. Sidious told him of how he'd turned Vader to the dark side, and it had been such an easy
thing. Anakin Skywalker was a sith in his heart, filled with the power of the dark side, ready to
come to him faster than the light. He'd been greedy for power, which Sidious had given him. But
Vader was too greedy, Sidious said. He was going to try and destroy his Master, going to turn his
own son to the dark side and have them rule the galaxy together. Sidious knew his days were
numbered if he did not act quickly.
     So his first apprentice, his prized apprentice, his most skilled sith apprentice, was called
forth from where he had slept for almost forty years and was asked to get rid of Vader. But
Vader was faster, and had the advantage of not having slept in a cloning chamber for so long. He
had found Maul only a few months after he'd been recovered and had imprisoned him in the
stasis hold.
     Why he had not been destroyed was beyond him. But he remembered very little about the
whole incident. All there was blue, consuming his body, freezing him in place.
     That, and a woman's face. A woman with hair as red as fire and eyes like Iyala's had
been, a brilliant green.
     He dismissed the memories with some effort and turned his attention to the controls. Any
second now they'd be coming after him--he had to figure this out fast.
     The navcomputer at first beeped that it did not recognize the planet he had requested, and
then after a few seconds of whirling and churning it spit out some numbers. Odd...Durran had
closed itself off from the rest of the galaxy for some time, and had only recently reopened its
doors. How had that happened? How had Palpatine even allowed it?
     But his Master was dead, and those questions were useless. He did not need to waste his
time upon them. Shaking off everything but his thoughts of vengeance, Maul settled into the
pilot's seat as the silver starlines stretched out around him.

     Mara stared at the holo of her daughter, knowing that something was wrong, but not
wishing to pry. "It's not a big shuttle, privately owned. The codes belong to Dr. Quan," she said,
as Vaiya scribbled some things down.
     "Okay, we've sent out the word to all open space docks," Vaiya said, pushing back a thick
lock of hair that was uncharacteristically out of place. "If he comes anywhere near us, we'll
know."
     Mara nodded. "I just hope that Durran's tracking technology hasn't fallen too far behind.
Of course, Maul doesn't really know too much about updated New Republic technology, so
we've got some of the advantage. Frankly, I'm surprised he knew how to get the coordinates set
for Durran."
     "Are you?" Vaiya asked, glancing at her mother. Mara felt herself blush slightly.
     "You felt that, huh?" she said dryly.
     Vaiya nodded. "More memories?"
     Mara shrugged. "You keep your thoughts to yourself, and I'll keep mine, thank you."
     It was Vaiya's turn to blush, but hers flushed into a deep, scarlet red. She stammered
something about being needed elsewhere, they would keep in touch, let her know if anything
happened, Vaiya out.
     In the impending silence, Mara stood up from the small console they had let her borrow.
At her request, they had given her a private line, and no one was closer than ten feet or so.
Around her, others tried to track the shuttle, and there was a small squad sent out after it. The
whole planet was set on alert, but Mara shrugged it all off.
     It didn't matter. Maul was nowhere near here, there was no danger to them. But when he
hit Durran...Mara only hoped that whatever was bother her daughter wasn't going to distract her
from her duty as a Jedi Master.
     Still, Mara had learned the hard way to trust her daughter, no matter what. Whatever
happened, she and Larin would handle it.

     Vaiya disconnected the comlink and sat back in her chair, pressing her palms against her
burning cheeks. It had not occurred to her in all this time that her parents might discover her
secret. It had not occurred to her that they should even know about it, but the fact that they didn't
made her feel a great amount of nervous tension.
     But that was ridiculous. She was their child, yes, but she was a grown woman, a wife.
Whatever happened between her and Larin was their business and no one else's.
     Still...she thought of Seth, and wondered if he should know. After all, he was involved as
well. But with all he was probably going through right now, she knew she shouldn't trouble him
with this. It was her problem, not his. He knew she would not leave Larin, and the thought of
Larin leaving her was something she could not bring herself to even verbalize.
     Her heart went out to him, in spite of herself. The thought of Seth having to face all of
this alone---even with her mother and Ben trying to hard to help him, to reach out to him, she
knew he still felt alone. The fact that they were her family only made it worse, only drove the
point home.
     He had always felt alone...except with her.
     She cursed herself for the thousandth time.
     Rising from the chair, she turned to see Larin in the doorway, watching her. His face had
taken on a rather hollow look the last few days, his eyes sinking into his face, casting dark
shadows on his cheeks. He was so depressed, and yet there was nothing she could do to help
him. He was facing his demons again, and all she could do was wait, and love him, and comfort
him when he came to her.
     As he did now...right in the middle of her thoughts of Seth.
     "I wish you hated him," Larin whispered.
     Vaiya paused, the Force-pain acute, like a white-hot lance. She flinched.
     "I wish I did, too."
     "Or that you hated me," he continued, as if he hadn't heard her. "Or that you could say
that one of us meant nothing to you. I wish I could hate you, or him...but I can't."
     She raised an eyebrow. "Larin?" she whispered.
     He tilted his head up, and his expression frightened her. She hadn't seen him this ragged
since that day she'd had to face him on Cal's space station, high on the mind-altering drugs Cal
had been pumping him with. Then, quickly, he shut his eyes and it vanished. His face contorted
slightly before he opened his eyes.
     "What have I done to you?" she whispered, more to herself than to him.
     He straightened and approached her, grasping her and pulling her close. "This has been
going on for too long," he said, his voice stronger. "I'm done with it, Vaiya. It is in the past--"
     "It's only been a week, Larin," she pointed out. "Take as much time as you need--"
     "The past!" he said, more forcefully, but as he gazed down at her she could see him
struggling to regain his old self. "I won't let the Evil One bring us down like this, I won't! But I
know what we have to do now. I've been spending a lot of time in prayer."
     "I know." Indeed. He'd spent more time in the First Temple than in their home. But she
had willingly endured it, knowing it was for his greater good.
     "But you haven't."
     She jumped slightly. "And?"
     "You have to go into the Temple, Vaiya, and be purified."
     She frowned. "I already did that, Larin. It didn't help!"
     He shook his head. "Because you weren't ready to admit to the sin in what you did. But
now that you've told me...now you're ready to be healed. It's not my grief that holding us back,
Vaiya, it's your guilt! You have to let it go!"
     She took in her breath sharply. "Let it GO!" she shot back at him. "After what I did,
you're telling me to let it go!! How can you say that, Larin?"
     "I forgive you, Yejion has forgiven you...you have to forgive you, Vaiya."
     "I can't forgive myself for something I can't change!" Now she was shouting, angry and
unable to understand why.
     "What can't you change? The fact that you love Seth? You think that is your sin?"
     She shook her head--it wasn't an answer, but a wild gesture. "Isn't it?" she cried. "I'm
married to you, and I love you! But I love him and he will always be a part of me!"
     "And you hate yourself for it," Larin whispered, cutting her to the quick.
     She started to cry, but forced the tears back, tired of them. They had gotten her nowhere.
Now she had to be strong. "I hate myself for serving two masters and being unable to choose
between them."
     "But you did choose, Vaiya. You chose me."
     She nodded. "Yes, I did."
     "Then what is the problem?"
     "I still love him." The words were a faint whisper, shot through with self-loathing.
     "To love is not a sin, Vaiya." His voice broke a bit but he continued. "That you love Seth
is not the sin. What you did about it is."
     "And you?" she cried, looking back up at him. "YOU can live with that knowledge? I
know that if you had told me that you had loved Iyala, I would have released you in a second, not
because I wanted you to be happy as I said, but because it would sicken me to know that when
you looked into my eyes it was hers that you wanted to see."
     "And do you feel that way about Seth? Do you wish him to be your husband instead of
me?" Larin asked, straight-faced.
     She shook her head. "No."
     "Then if it is me that you're think you're hurting with that knowledge...well, you're not
wrong, but what you've done to me is nothing compared to what you're doing to yourself over
this. What is it? Tell me why you can't---" And he reached out to her with their Force-bond,
stretched his gentle mental fingers into her mind and saw where the wound blazed in her soul.
     "Vaiya," he whispered gently, "it is not your heart that is hurting. It is your pride."
     She bridled, almost broke from his grip as he saw it all. The woman who had conquered
an entire sith cult, who had called angels to her defense, who had received guidance from above
by angelic messengers and had been rescued time and again by Yejion's own hand...she had been
brought low by her own flesh.
     It was more than she could take. She would not let her shame go.
     He softened his hold on her and held her close. There was nothing he could do to her that
she had not already done. There was no pain he could feel that she had not already felt for him.
He didn't know whether to kiss her or strangle her. But in the end, it was her flawed, human
pride that made her make these sacrifices and do these penances--not her love for Larin, Seth, or
God.
     "Enough, Vaiya. Yejion knows you are sorry and has forgiven you," he whispered. "You
must forgive yourself, Vaiya. And you must do it soon."
     She let him hold her, easing into his touch. But still, inside, the wound in her pride
throbbed.
     Shutting her eyes, she tried to do as he said, but the desire was not in her. Instead, she
simply pushed it back from his mental gaze and let him comfort her.
     "We have to be on the alert," she whispered after a time. "Mother says that we may be
getting an unwelcome visitor soon."
     He sighed and gently released her, but as she gazed up into his face she saw that his mask
of torment was gone. "Very well. I was told when I was young that we can talk until we're blue
in the face and never be heard, but when we're silent we often speak the loudest."
     "And that means?"
     "Live by example. We aren't going to speak of this again, Vaiya. It's over and done,
finished. This wound is going to close and we're going to let it. Do you understand?"
     She flinched slightly at his tone of voice. Harsh, but she knew he was right. She couldn't
carry this around in front of him anymore. It would cease to be a sign of repentance and start to
become a real wedge between them. Funny, there was a sick and twisted irony in that thought.
     "Yes, I understand," she said. "We will let it go."
     He ran his hand through her hair. "I hope you mean that, Vaiya. Not just for my sake, but
for your own."

<:::::::::::::::::::::::{SKYWALKER}::::::::::::::::::::::::::>

     Something had happened.
     Seth sat in the cool, dark room, carefully observing his surroundings. This was the place
where Mara had found Maul--the only real light came from the few glow rods that were still here
and the faint glow from the cloning chamber. It was an eerie place, but mildly peaceful.
     Or maybe it was just familiar.
     He could still keenly sense the dark side. He had spent too many years carving out peace
in the dark powers--a paradox, he had recently discovered under Valeris' care, but an existing
fact nonetheless--to not fall back upon them out of habit. Carefully, he withdrew, searching for
the light.
     It was then that he felt the disturbance. Either this place did not like the light, or
something had happened to someone close to him. Or both.
     *Vaiya.*
     He could not understand why she was tormenting herself in this way. Did she not realize
her privilege? Did she not embrace the gifts that had been bestowed upon her? She had fallen
into sin, yes, and worse, had fallen into it with him, but still she was bright and beautiful, and her
former grace had been returned to her.
     It was almost as if her soul had gone blind. Or she had deliberately blinded herself to it. It
was a thought he didn't like at all. That she would fall so far and then willingly go farther...
     Mara was there. He felt her before he saw her. She had a familiar presence to him, but he
knew that partly came from the fact that she and her husband both had been submerged in the
cult's dark magics. The regeneration process had colored their signature in the Force, but it had
not tainted it irreparably. Perhaps as they grew older it would wear away. He felt a slight pang of
guilt about that, but it had not been in his power to stop Cal Saphringer at the time, even if he
had desired it.
     He had had no power at that time, no real power, not anymore.
     "Hello," she sighed before she appeared, sensing him as well. "Find anything?"
     "I haven't started to look," he replied honestly.
     She snorted. "I don't blame you. I hate it down here." There was a hardness in her voice
that told Seth there was more behind that comment, but he decided to let it go until she was
more direct. He had no right to even consider prying---
     "Does Vaiya know?" he heard himself ask, almost against his will. Mara stopped and
looked at him, curiously.
     "Know what?"
     "That Maul is my father?"
     Mara considered her words before she spoke. "She knows that Maul was your
predecessor in the cult...she knows that it's probably him who's headed for Durran right now. But
I don't think I told her that he was your father."
     Seth nodded. "She'll find out soon enough, I suppose," he whispered.
     "How?"
     "I saw the holos of Maul's face, without his tattoo. It doesn't take a Jedi Master to notice
the resemblance."
     Mara frowned. "But she has never seen your face without the tattoo, has she?"
     "She had always seen my face without the tattoo," Seth said serenely.
     Mara was silent for a long moment, and then said, "Is there something that you want to
tell me?"
     He glanced up at her, marveling at the resemblance. Vaiya may have gained her slender
form and athletic abilities from her father, but her ability to prowl and fight and defy---they were
all on her mother's beautiful features. The full lips, and the proud nose--Seth broke his gaze, and
looked down. "No," he said simply.
     Mara merely nodded. "Fine. When you're ready, I'm listening." Her words were short, but
Seth was touched by the gentle tone. He felt the corner of his mouth twitch upwards into a smile.
     "Thank you," he replied.
     "No problem," she said offhandedly, striding over to the cloning chamber. "Maybe you
wouldn't mind answering another question--"
     Seth looked up again, "Yes?"
     "What exactly did you guys do to me and Luke?" She had her hands on her hips, and
there was a mild scowl on her face, but no anger in her. He raised his eyebrows.
     "I'm afraid I don't understand--"
     "The cult, I guess it wasn't you, really...but what Cal did to us. That ceremony, that
regeneration thing. I'm having a hard time believing that Luke and I were submerged into such
dark side energy and it didn't affect us negatively. So tell me, what exactly did you do?"
     Seth took a long moment before replying, "When I was with Valeris, he told me
something...I don't know if I can remember it exactly. He said that the dark side does not come
from outside of us, but from within us."
     "How do you mean?"
     "I mean, that we cannot be turned--we turn ourselves, we choose. We embrace the dark
or we embrace the light. But nothing outside of us can make us do anything. You were a victim
of a dark ceremony and submerged in dark magic, but you did not embrace it. The results were
the restoration of your youth, but you were not given a choice. It was not in your heart or your
mind, only in your body. It did not flow through out, only around you, and even if it did flow
through your body it did not flow through your soul. In your heart, you still feel your age, do you
not?"
     "Yes," Mara murmured as she approached him, sinking down into a sitting position on
the smooth, stone ground. She grinned slightly, reminded of a similar conversation with Luke, a
long time ago--deep in the underground caverns where he had proposed to her. "But that's like
saying you can spend your life surrounded by the dark side and it will never touch you. That's
simply not true. I served the dark side, I was surrounded by it, and it touched me. I still fight off
my anger and rage to this day."
     Seth nodded. "And yet you were saved. So was I. It is the only explanation I can find for
why I am here with you today, and that the dark side did not consume and destroy my soul."
     "Grace," Mara stated.
     "Yes," Seth replied. "If you do not embrace what happened to you, Mara, then do not
worry about the dark side. Even if there should be problems because of what happened, do you
not have Faith that your God, Yejion, will preserve you?"
     She frowned slightly. "You're starting to sound like Valeris."
     "Thank you."
     She smiled. "Okay, you win. I won't worry about it anymore."
     "I was not trying to win," he said calmly, "I was merely trying to answer your question."
     She stood up, shaking imaginary dust off her legs. "It was just an expression. Come on,
maybe you can make sense out of some of these datacards that we found in Maul's chamber,
here."
     Seth stood up and followed. As he approached, Mara turned her head to say something to
him over her shoulder, and then stopped short.
     "What?" he asked, mildly concerned by her intense gaze.
     "I wish there was something we could do about that tattoo," she whispered.
     He paused in mid-step, feeling the old rush of shame. "So do I," he said.
     She nodded and turned away, going about her business. "Funny, though," she tossed off
casually, "I didn't see it a few seconds ago."

     "I can't believe we have to sit around here for a week!" Ben cried from his room as Mara
entered their apartments.
     She smiled. Yep, he was Luke's son. "Two weeks!" she shouted. "One week there, and
then a week back!"
     Ben emerged into the living area, his hair damp from his shower, his white linen Jedi
garments fresh and bright from the wash. "Why can't we go after him?" he cried.
     "They've already sent people," Mara said, tossing a small satchel of data cards down onto
the couch and then plopping down beside it. "Now, do you want to pace impatiently, or do you
want to know what we found today?"
     Ben sighed and sat down. Mara smiled at him, trying to be understanding, remembering
that the Skywalker blood usually ran pretty hot. "Cool your heels a bit, Ben," she said softly.
"Sometimes a Jedi's trial is of his mettle, not his might."
     "Mettle?" Ben scowled at her. "What is that?"
     "What you're made of--your patience, tolerance, inner peace. Those tell you of a true Jedi
Knight. It's your character that's tested, not your brawn."
     Ben snorted, and then relaxed a bit. "Where is Seth?"
     "Getting dinner." She started to rummage about her satchel, examining the datacards.
     "Getting dinner?" he echoed. "You sent him on an errand like that? With his--"
     Mara scowled at him. "He asked to go," she said sharply. "He can't spend his life hiding
because of his face. Besides, it's just a little trip down to the complex supply mart."
     Ben nodded. "Okay, whatever you say. You're the Jedi Master."
     Mara scowled again. He was beginning to sound like her, now. "So you want to listen or
you want to talk?"
     Ben sighed and then settled into his seat. "Fine, lay it on me, Mom."
     Mara began to shove datacards into a small pad, scanning over the information. "Turns
out that this guy isn't a clone. We suspect that he's the real Maul, that somehow when he was
killed, his Zabrak physiology enabled him to survive but in a dormant state. He was basically
just living brain cells--I don't know how it works for Zabrak, but Seth explained that when a
Zabrak is mortally wounded they can survive for a time by retreating into a part of their brain.
The brain shuts off from the rest of the body and remains protected in the skull--that's why
Zabrak have horns, an old evolutionary trait of self-preservation. But this isn't supposed to last
more than a few days. Apparently, Palpy got to him in time and somehow...*preserved* him.
After a time, when the technology existed,  he was able to 'defrost' him, maybe? We don't know
exactly. But Palpatine knew how to grow Maul's body back, which he did. However, this took a
considerable amount of time, and on top of that, Palpatine already had Vader serving him. I
suspect that he thought Vader might betray him long before it ever came to my attention. That
might even explain why he came for me, on Durran. He always had dual purposes for
everything."
     "I though that you'd said that Palpatine had wanted you, Vader and another guy to replace
some high-up Imperial when he was killed, or something like that."
     She smiled at him. "So you do pay attention to me when I'm rambling on," she
murmured. "Yes, Palpatine wanted that. But he almost must have known that Vader wasn't
completely loyal. You know he sent me to kill your father because he knew that Vader had tried
to turn Luke to the dark side to band *against* Palpatine, not join him. There can be only two
sith lords," Mara pointed out. "More than that causes disloyalty, dissension, and eventually
distrusting chaos. Apparently, more than one causes chaos. Either I or Maul was going to have to
replace Vader after a time, and I think that the preference leaned toward Maul. Palpatine was
already growing him, according to the records, when I was taken from Durran."
     Ben let out his breath. "This from your own father," he muttered.
     Mara nodded. "Consider yourself lucky, kid. Your father loves you very much."
     "So when did he hatch him, and why?"
     Mara's grin seemed to twist. "You know, these records aren't too specific. It's almost like
they were already being destroyed when Maul was completed. I think that Palpatine was
attempting to program him, even though he wasn't a clone. It was all partially an experiment,
because there are a ton of datacards here that would be put into a clone's programming."
     "Like what?"
     "Weapons, systems, planetary customs, table manners--you name it, it was here." She
hissed between her teeth. "Great Force...you'd think he was building another superweapon. Only
this time it was out of a real human being. Some of this stuff had no business being anywhere
near a cloning chamber, but it was there. This is only a fraction of it. The rest of it was taken to
labs to decoded and scanned. We have to know what Maul knows. Even if he's forty or so years
behind, he's still dangerous with all this information."
     "He would be dangerous without it," Seth put in. Both Skywalkers turned to see him
entering the living room, a small bag tucked into his left arm. "They did not have your gren liver,
so I had to purchase dewback."
     Mara's lips twisted slightly in distaste. "I'll live," she sighed, taking the bag. She tossed
Ben a sandwich. "Here, help your mother out."
     Ben smelled the sandwich and then opened the wrap. "Yummy." Then he glanced up at
Seth. "What about you? What did you get?"
     Mara handed him a sandwich. "Just went with the flow, huh?"
     Seth took the sandwich, and for a moment he just stood there. Ben sighed.
     "We've been through this," the younger man said. "Go ahead, it's fine."
     Seth nodded and pulled off his cloak, revealing his horned head and the dark blue tunic
and black pants underneath. Carefully, he sat down on the couch and pulled the wrappings away
from his sandwich. He began to eat without seeming to care about the taste.
     "Tired?" Mara asked around a mouthful of sandwich. Seth nodded. "Me, too," she sighed,
inhaling another bite. "But I've got some work cut out for me."
     "What?" Ben glanced out the high windows. It was already deep into the evening. There
was no light left in the sky, just the glittering spires of the planet-city of Coruscant reaching up
into the darkness. "You can't mean you're still working on this."
     "I am, but not in the way you think. After I call your father, I have to try and unearth my
memories about Maul. I think that Palpatine hatched him, as you put it, around the time that
Vader had tried to turn Luke to the dark side on Bespin. I think it had something to do with me,
and I don't think that Palpatine was the one who put him in stasis. According to the medical
records, Maul woke up shouting out Vader's name." Her eyes glazed over temporarily as she
watched something float past her mental vision. "I'd better get started, I guess," she said, sighing,
standing and balling up the plastic wrap. "Good night, everyone."
     "Good night," Seth said, finishing his own meal quickly and standing. "I am very tired. I
think I shall retire as well."
     Mara nodded. "You can take Vaiya's old room," she said, and disappeared into her
bedroom.
     For a second, Seth froze. He glanced at Ben, who was still eating, and then slowly
advanced toward Vaiya's room.
     It was going to be a long, long night.

     He dreamed of her...he was not a stranger to such dreams. He had dreamed of her his
whole life. But this was different. These were not the fantasy-generated dreams of old, the
nameless, faceless possibilities of reality. These were memories, gripped in his heart. Memories
of their battle in Cal's space station, outside of his throne room, high on the catwalks. They were
nightmares of the moment in the space dock where she had called angels forth to defend her
against the sith cult, nightmares where the angels failed to come because she had fallen, she had
sinned unforgivably, and the sith cult destroyed her with their demonic lightning--
     No, worse than that was the dream about that night, deep underground in Seth's private
rooms, rooms that Valeris himself had long since forgotten about. And the memory was always
perfect in the dream--the tilt of her head as she had looked up at him, at first in friendly
compassion and then in barely concealed lust. The feel of her lips as they touched his, as the last
traces of his control were disintegrated as her hands grasped his shoulders and pulled him closer
to her. The grinding of her hips underneath his, and the sweet feeling of the climax as it had
rushed over him and into her---
     He awoke, and sat up, his heart pounding. No, this wasn't right. Although the room had
long since been stripped bare of her personal possessions, she was still here, in this place. It was
a part of her, and he couldn't bear to be so close to it, not with the way he felt.
     He got up and grabbed his cloak, and as he did he caught a glimpse of metal in his bag.
     His lightsaber.
     It gleamed black and silver in the dim light. He had kept it, but never wore it, instead
burying it into his things in case of some bizarre emergency. Somehow, it had floated to the top.
The only other things in his bag were the black sith robes he'd worn for so long. The clothes on
his back had been from Valeris--other than that, these were the only things in the world he
owned.
     He should have discarded the robes, but he hadn't. Maybe it was the fact that they were
his only property that stopped him. He wasn't quite ready abandon himself so completely--or
maybe he felt he had abandoned himself already and was just struggling to hold onto the very
last shreds of identity for the sake of his own sanity. He knew he'd come so far, but the road
seemed to stretch out endlessly beyond him. He had even wanted to get rid of the lightsaber
itself, but knew that there was no plausible way to dispose of such a dangerous weapon,
especially considering it had not one but two blades.
     Just like his father's.
     He sighed, burying the weapon again, this time securing it into a zippered pocket toward
the bottom, wedging it in tightly but managing just the same. Then he stood up and covered
himself with his cloak. He made his way out into the living room, and stumbled over a small flat
table before finally finding the couch. He sat there for a long time, not trying to close his eyes
but staring into the dark, over the bright city, marveling at how it still lived and breathed with
such energy at such an hour.
     His thoughts, as they always did, drifted back to Vaiya.
     The memory was more perfect outside of the dream, but it always started at the
beginning. He had tried to hide, but Vaiya had found him. At first, her shock had been tangible,
not ever having expected to see him again in this life. The fact that he was hiding here with
Valeris of all people filled her with a mixture of confusion and joy. As she had entered, with or
without his permission, she had not waited for it either way, she saw his eyes, and he could feel
her through the Force, feel her relief.
     "You've been healing," she said.
     He merely nodded, sitting on his sleeping pad, his cloak wrapped around him.
     "Come on, Seth," she urged, "I can't talk to a lump. You can take the cloak off, it doesn't
bother me."
     Slowly, so slowly, he had complied, and he sensed even a certain amount of warmth for
him even in his physical state. It was familiar to her, and while it stirred up feelings in her that
she attempted to dismiss, she did not sway her gaze, not once.
     The silence that passed had been prolonged by the fact that she did not seem willing to
speak again until he contributed to the conversation. Seeing her again, after over seven years
apart, believing in his heart that she was no longer a part of him or his destiny as he had believed
for so many years, was disconcerting. She had grown, even rounded out a bit. He had never
looked at her as a child, but he realized that all her girlishness was quickly fading into the deeper
beauty of womanhood. She had only been 17, maybe 18 when the cult had stolen her, but now
she had to be at least in her mid twenties, and the maturity was striking.
     He glanced down at her hands, which were folded before her as she squatted on some of
the blankets he had strewn about the floor to keep from getting too dirty. On one finger glowed a
bright band of gold. He didn't know much about cultural ways of showing a marriage bond, but
somehow he got the sense---
     "Did you marry?" he asked, his voice raspy.
     She seemed struck by the question, jumping slightly, and then her cheeks burned a bit as
she glanced down at the ring. "Yes," she murmured, as if annoyed to be reminded of that fact.
     Seth scowled. The fact that she would have given herself to someone who did not please
her was beyond him. But his mind could not form the right question. Instead, all he could ask
was, "To whom?"
     "Larin."
     There was another silence as Seth took this in. He had not really known of her deep
feelings for Larin, but he knew them now. And she just continued to gaze at the ring, her face
changing and twisting like a living mask. One second it was terribly sad and lonely, and the next
it was smiling, as if remembering some tender intimacy. And then it was sharp and angry, and
finally just tired as she brought her eyes up to meet his.
     "I see." It was all he could manage. Then, "So why are you here?"
     She shrugged. "Long story."
     He glanced around. "We seem to have all the time we need."
     She frowned at him slightly, "Come on, Seth...it's not like our relationship was ever about
talking. We've only discussed religion and the Force...I'm not exactly going to pour out my
marital woes here."
     The hurt that threatened to come from him was almost like a viper attempting to strike
out, and he mentally leapt to hold it back, but it was too quickly. She flinched as she felt the
vibration through the Force. "I'm sorry," she said. "I just meant that---"
     "I knew what you meant." Clipped and brief...maybe if he shut his eyes she would
disappear.
     "No, Seth...you're just trying to help. I'm truly sorry."
     He sighed, feeling the wave of indignation pass. "No, Vaiya, you were right. You and I,
we are not friends, I suppose. But the thought of someone that you love not treating you how you
deserve...I hope you will forgive my anger at that thought."
     She smiled, her eyes softening as she gazed at him. There was another silence, but this
one was warm as her mind briefly reached out to him, feeling his thoughts. "You do care for
me," she whispered.
     "Yes." The fact that she had to say it was like telling someone to breathe. It almost
angered him that she only truly realized that fact now. But then again..."I know that we have a
shaded history, Vaiya, but I have always cared for you. And I always will, no matter who you are
married to."
     Her smile widened. "Then perhaps we should do as friends do," she said.
     "And what do they do?"
     "They talk." She stretched out her legs and sighed. "I haven't done that in a long time."
     Seth felt a peculiar sensation---joy, perhaps? But he was confused. This kind of
casualness was simply not in his nature. The mere pronunciation of her words, the way she
relaxed herself as if preparing for something--these things seemed impossible for him to imitate.
And she knew it. She frowned at him, but the traces of her smile still lingered.
     "Then again, you don't talk much, do you?"
     He shook his head. "It is an odd thing you ask, Vaiya. I feel that we already know each
other. Of what do we speak?"
     "I don't know, anything." She shook her head. "Tell me something about yourself, Seth.
Something I don't know."
     There was another silence---he was beginning to tire of them. "I'm afraid I don't know
what you mean. There is nothing about me---"
     "Didn't you have a mother or a father?"
     "The cult claimed me when I was 12. My memories are vague...I don't think I ever knew
my father, but I do have brief flashes of my mother."
     "How brief?"
     Slowly, Seth began to relax. He even dared to stretch his feet out before him and lean
back on his hands, pushing into his careful store of memories, slowly extracting them from their
dusty corners. "She and I lived alone---there was a man who was a Jedi Knight that visited us,
but he never stayed. I don't remember his name. She was very sad much of the time...I'm afraid
there isn't much there, Vaiya. I don't know what you want me to say."
     She gazed at him, the pity in her eyes. "How sad," she whispered. "You don't even know
what it means to have a mother, do you?"
     "I know that I was born like anyone else. Perhaps you could tell me what I'm missing."
     Vaiya sighed. "I don't know if I'm the best example. My childhood was all about being a
Jedi. I was raised with it, trained since I was old enough to think, to walk, to pick up a
lightsaber."
     "Did you want to be a Jedi?"
     She considered the question carefully. "It was never a question of want or not want. I
never desired to be anything else, but being a Jedi was something that I just was...it was who I
was, a part of me. I don't know if I can explain it, Seth. I never questioned it, but it never took
me away from being myself. It was myself, or a part of it so big that to deny it would be like
denying being human. The Force was always with me, I never had to search for it, or wait for it.
It was strong and just...*there.*" She shrugged. "I guess I'm not the best example for that, either."
     He smiled, a sight she had not seen too many times and he could feel her reaction
through the Force. "Then perhaps telling me what having a mother is like is no different."
     "I guess I couldn't. Then again, having the ex-Emperor's Hand, Mara Jade, as a mother,
doesn't make it any easier."
     "Your parents are very well known."
     "That's putting it mildly." She laughed and then sighed. "No, they're good parents. I
wasn't the best child, but I guess everyone rebels at some point." She gave him a pointed look. "I
guess we can relate about that."
     He seemed to retreat slightly from her gaze. "Perhaps I can understand more about what
you say about being a Jedi, it being in your nature. I was not given a choice to become what I
did...but I did not fight it, either. I was claimed by the cult as surely as you were claimed by the
Force. But I did not rebel against it. When Darth Maul came for me..." He shuddered, for the
memory of that night had not come to him in many, many years--perhaps decades.
     "What happened?" Vaiya pressed.
     "I don't remember much. It was at night, I was sleeping, and he was there. He told me to
come with him, and I remember rising from my bed and going to where he stood, by the
window. Behind him there were men, whom I later came to realize were the cult brothers. They
took me into their hovercraft, and just before Maul followed, I could feel my mother. She had
discovered what happened. I knew I was leaving her, I knew she didn't want me to go, I knew
that she had a strong feelings for Maul...I did not understand them, I don't know if I do now. She
knew him, knew what he had done, and while there was a dark hatred there, there was also a
light, and for a moment I had the terrible feeling that I should have known Maul, too, but as he
emerged from the window and joined us in the craft, there was such a dark presence there among
us that I cast it out of my mind entirely. The only way I can describe it is...like being in a cave,
and one of the walls is cracked, and instead of digging at the crack to let more light in, instead I
grabbed a handful of earth and filled the crack in, embracing the darkness. I didn't know why I
picked that...I loved my mother, but it just didn't feel important to me when Maul was near.
After he left, I started to question, but I was too afraid of the cult and too caught up in my new
position. It wasn't until many years later that I began to rebel from them, slowly...and then there
was you."
     He stopped, snapping his jaw shut, feeling a heated blush rise and burn his cheeks even
underneath the heavy paint. He had talked entirely too much...too freely, even with her. But she
gazed at him, her blue-green eyes focused and intent, taking in every word. Then, meeting that
gaze intensely, he said, "Why are you here?"
     She blinked. "What do you mean?"
     "I mean...why did you come here? What happened? You would not have come to this
place if something was not wrong, Vaiya. You have a family, a life, a home. Why are you in this
place, and why are you here with me?"
     She blinked again, slowly, and that kaleidoscope of emotions danced across her face
again. She took several deep breaths, each one pausing as if she were trying to decide if the
words were going to come out of her or not. Then finally, she said, "It's Larin."
     He nodded. "What did he do?"
     "Nothing. He didn't do anything." She shook her head, as if trying to convince herself
more than him. "It happened before he came back to me, during the year he was on Durran. He
spent a considerable amount of time with Iyala, a dear friend of mine. It seems that she has
strong feelings for him, and he was lonely so he returned her attentions, but he never intended to
stay with her, he says he had always planned to come back to me." She sighed, her shoulders
slumping. "And me, in typical fashion, ran off on him."
     He frowned. "You ran off? How did you find out this about him and your friend Iyala?"
     "He told me. Iyala has been training a bit, she isn't very strong but she needs guidance,
and I took it upon myself to help her. Well, the tensions have been building and finally Larin just
came clean a few nights ago and told me about what happened."
     "But what did happen, Vaiya?" Seth pressed. "Was he unfaithful to you?"
     "No, but even if he had been it wasn't to me because we weren't together. I can't hold him
responsible for the things he did before he was my husband."
     "Did he pledge himself to you during that time you were apart, before you were
married?"
     She shrugged. "Kind of, not really specific that I can recall. I knew he would come back,
I always knew...but he was lonely for me and sought out company, and poor Iyala wound up
falling for him pretty hard. I feel so bad for her...she's been quiet about it the entire time. She
never said a word to me, so I can't be angry at her. She's been nothing but respectful for me and
Larin. And I can't blame her for loving Larin, because I love him myself! You can't help who you
love."
     "And Larin does not love her," Seth stated. This was so confusing to him...what did she
have to be angry about? "So why are you upset?"
     Vaiya's gaze met his for a long moment, and he could feel her anger whirling about
inside of her. "We had a fight about it when he told me, when I asked him if he cared about her.
Of course he cares about her, he wouldn't be the man I love if he didn't, and he feels terrible
about using her like he did. Maybe it's just me, that I can't believe he would do something so
low. To use someone's affections for your own ego--" she shuddered. "I've had that done to me
and I hated it."
     Seth riled a bit at the vague reference, but focused on the subject. "So you're angry at him
for using Iyala?"
     "Sort of...but when he told me some of the details, I just couldn't believe he didn't care
about her more than he was saying. So I told him that if he had wanted to be with her, I would
have understood. Only I wasn't that nice about saying it. I was jealous and angry and the words
came out more like an insult, like, 'Well, why didn't you just marry her and be happy? I would
have rather you have been happy with her than miserable with me.' He exploded at me for that, I
don't blame him. But my point is this--what if he only came back to be with me because he had
promised me he would? I mean, before I was born, my father was very much in love with Ben's
mother, Callista, and if she had returned sooner, before he married my mother, I wonder what
would have happened. Would he have gone to be with her? Or what if when she came back, he
was already married to Mother, but realized he loved Callista more? I mean, what if he only
stayed with my mother because she was pregnant with his child?"
     "There are a lot of 'what if's', there, Vaiya," Seth admonished gently. "Perhaps your
problem is too much speculation...to much anxiety over things that have not happened."
     She shrugged. "Maybe. But no one except Yejion knows what is truly in men's hearts. I
mean, Ben has to live with the fact that Luke chose my mother over his, and somehow he deals
with that. Or maybe it's easier for him because he never knew his parents like I did. Sure, Mother
and Father love him dearly, and I know that he's happy...but when Larin told me what he had, it
just brought up things...." And she trailed off, her eyes resting on him thoughtfully. "It made me
wonder how things might have been, and I had to ask myself if I am happy with the way things
are."
     "Might have been..." He nodded. "I am familiar with those thoughts. There are nights
when I think they will drive me insane. But I am forced to accept my present. Perhaps that is
what kept me in the cult for so long, being unwilling to chase after what might have been...what
might still be..." The way she was looking at him, the way the light caught in her blue-green eyes
and danced there, the way she had once looked at him before so many things had come between
them and destiny had been rewritten....
     "It's a fine line," she whispered, crawling closer to him. "Knowing what you should
change and what you shouldn't, what will cause more harm than good..."
     She was so close now, close enough that he could have lifted his hand and touched her
cheek. "And what did you wonder about, Vaiya?" he whispered. "What change would you have
made?"
     She was on her knees before him, and he felt her thoughts through the Force. It had been
so long---her mind open to his, her body willing, her spirit weakened---he caught himself and
tried to pull away. The memory of her lips against his, the path of her curves, was too intense.
The desire for her was always so strong, but its grip of the moment was nearly maddening.
     And she knew it.
     His eyes caught hers and locked with them. Why wasn't she pulling away? It had always
been she in the past who had stopped them, always she who knew it was just this lust, this
undeniable chemical reaction that always occurred when they were too close together, that it
wasn't right, it wasn't real, and pushed it away. But no, he sensed a willingness in her that was
making his own impulses much harder to control. Seven years ago, he would not have thought a
second about it, but would have taken her right then and there. Now...it was wrong. All the time
he'd spent with Valeris, learning about the Light, realizing that he was not called to be damned in
the Evil One's slavery, but instead had a higher purpose that was yet to be discovered, all of that
time had not been spent in vain...had it? He was not going to crumble and fall now, not at the
hands of the one person who he had held higher than all the rest, the one who had brought him to
that light, the one who had symbolized it in his mind from his very first days of memory. To
respond to her would be like killing a god.
     She reached out and touched his cheek, her fingers trailing along his skin, the tips
lowering to his lips and gently brushing them, and then she leaned forward to follow the trail
with her lips.
     He grabbed her forearms and pushed her away. The wounded look on her face was like a
lightsaber blade in his chest, but he kept his will strong as he held her at bay. He wanted to tell
her that she didn't know what she was doing, that she was just seeking revenge on Larin, that she
was making a mistake, but all those things seemed to be as thin as the dust on the ground
beneath them, easily brushed aside. Instead, he could only say, "Vaiya, are you happy with your
life?"
     She shut her eyes, letting out her breath between her teeth. "I am."
     "Then why do you need me?"
     She opened her eyes again, and they were piercing. "Need...what about want? What about
doing what you want? Why does it always have to be about need? Why can't people do as they
want and be happy?"
     "You know the answer to that question," he chastised her, amazed that she would even
say such a thing. Hadn't she been the one to preach to him about following the light, and
submitting your will to that of God? How could she ask such questions?
     But then her eyes filled with tears, and he felt his resolve weaken. "I don't want to be
married to someone who feels obligated to me, who came back to me only because he needed
me. Need is so confining, it takes away your freedom! Wanting...that is freedom."
     He shook his head at her. "Then you have come to the wrong person, Vaiya. Everything I
have felt for you has come from need."
     She flinched. "But you did not seek me out like Larin did."
     "No."
     "But if you needed me, then why?"
     He paused, weighing his answer before he spoke. "Perhaps because I knew that you were
meant for another. Because it did not matter that I thought I needed you-- that was only coming
from what I wanted, not what was right. Or maybe I didn't feel worthy of you, or...honestly,
Vaiya, I do not know. But it was not from a lack of wanting."
     She sighed, pulling back a bit. "Now do you see what I mean? Now that I see you here, I
understand some things that I never did before. But now I'm forced to ask, if Larin had not
returned to me, and I had just lived my life..perhaps it would have been me that sought you out,
and that our life together would have begun right now. Maybe you did not come after me
because you wanted me to come after you. Because you wanted me to be free to be with you.
You wanted me to...*want* you."
     Everything in him knew that he should have released the hold he had on her arms and
pulled away from her. Every ounce of morality that Valeris had taught him screamed at him that
he was in danger, because the strength of her emotions was like a drug. He felt himself slipping,
losing control.
     "You would have...." But his throat closed and the words wouldn't come out. He reached
out for her mind, and saw what he had always dreamed of seeing.
     Somehow, she loved him. As much as she loved Larin, as much as her life meant to her,
as much as her faith kept her on the straight and narrow, at this moment, she was willing to shut
her eyes and cast it all away, just for a single fantasy with him, that her words about their life
beginning this night might be true, even if only for an hour.
     When he reached to kiss her, she returned it equally, perhaps with more passion. And he
had what he had always dreamed of having.
     And then the morning had come.
     They could hardly look at each other, but yet Seth knew that her feelings for him had not
changed. Perhaps he expected her to suddenly hate him, or hate herself, but she did neither.
Instead, they agreed to keep their secret, and she had left without a ceremony--simply slipped
out, leaving him alone again.
     It was only later that he could sense her vaguely, when an intense ripple of shame washed
over her, and he had shut her out, either to protect himself or her, he didn't know.
     It had been wrong, totally wrong. He felt dirty even now, even from the dream, and the
guilt rushed upon him as if it had happened all over again. He had drawn her away from her
husband, had divided her heart in a way that could have ruined her life. They had taken
something beautiful between them and perverted it freely, desecrating it into unrecognizability.
Did Larin even know? He hoped she would tell him, soon, so that perhaps in his rage the Jedi
Knight might come after him and slay him, so that he would no longer have to live with the
memories, and with the pain. It was a desire he didn't let himself think about too much, not since
Ben and Mara were trying so hard to help him. He appreciated it, but even being around them
was still too close to Vaiya.
     The person he loved and treasured the most in his life, and he could go nowhere near her
without killing them both in some way...the thought was almost too much to bear. Did she even
know that Maul was his father? Would it change how she felt about him? He wasn't even sure
how he felt about it himself. It was strange, the way it elicited almost no emotions from him. He
expected at least some anger, but there was nothing...simple acceptance. As if he'd always
known.
     The time passed, and Seth noticed that the sun was starting to rise. He sighed and pulled
his cloak about him tightly. Perhaps out here there would be no dreams. Perhaps if he prayed a
bit, as Valeris had taught him, Yejion would be merciful and grant him an hour of dreamless,
guiltless oblivion.

<::::::::::::::::::::()()()()()()():::::::::::::::::::::::>

     The ship came into orbit around Durran a few hours before morning. Vaiya was asleep,
but Larin was having a restless night and was close by the control board when the small alarm
went off.
     He'd been disturbed by a dream that he couldn't understand. Two men, one with the black
and red cult tattoo and one without it, and instead of horns the un-tattooed one possessed a full
head of darkish hair. They were fighting. Their lightsabers were going so fast and furious that
Larin could hardly tell which one was which. Sometimes they were blue and green, sometimes
they were red, purple, even white, like his own lightsaber, the one Valeris had given him through
Vaiya. The colors flashed and the sounds of the clashing blades were so loud it was like thunder
over the horizon. The did not fight in any specific place, but instead seemed to be in another
realm, where reality swirled around them and verged off into many different places.
     Then the light had started to flash and Larin's memory of the dream was dissolved
underneath more pressing matters. He scanned the ship and found that it matched the
information that Mara had given them.
     Standing, Larin drew his saber from his belt and sent a ripple through the Force to Vaiya.
He felt her wake and rise from her bed, and then hustle to throw on some clothes. After their
little talk, she had actually started to heal. Perhaps she hadn't quite been able to put her feelings
for Seth to rest, but Larin was confident that, after this, she would be true to him until the day
she died.
     Or he died, he thought with a shudder. The thought of his own death had not occurred to
him until that moment. And if that were to happen? he wondered. What would Vaiya do? How
long would she wait until she let Seth....
     He shook it off and turned to the board. The ship was going to land not too far away from
Valeris' desert keep. They didn't have much time if they were going to intercept him. He broke
into a run for their small hangar, his mind going through the list of the fastest and most ready
ships they could take, his troubled thoughts left behind as he told himself that a Jedi always lived
in the now.
     As he rounded the corner to head into the bay, he noticed that someone was there.
"Iyala?" he called, his stomach twisting slightly as her presence became clear through the Force.
     "I felt him," she said, her voice tight as she turned and pointed at a waiting shuttle. "We
can take this one. It's faster than the speeder."
     Larin looked at Iyala hard. "We?" he echoed. "Vaiya is coming with me, Iyala. I
appreciate the offer, but---"
     "I'm not offering," she snapped, giving him a quick glare as she slid the hatch open. "I'm
coming."
     "I don't think that's a good idea," Larin cautioned, feeling a small pang of guilt. No, he
had not done with Iyala what Vaiya had done with Seth, but still...too much time he'd spent with
her, using her as a crutch...it was not one of his finer moments, and something he hadn't thought
about in too long a time. Perhaps he should have told Vaiya sooner, maybe his wife wouldn't
have---
     "I don't care what you think." Okay, there was something really wrong here. Larin
jumped slightly at the harsh edge of Iyala's voice. She rounded on him, her eyes cold. "You
chose your destiny. You have no right to interfere with mine."
     He put his hands on his hips, a defiant gesture and futile, but it helped him get a grip on
the situation. "Well, I have a right to decide who goes where in my ship--"
     "Then it's a good thing this isn't your ship," Iyala said, giving him a half-smile that was
anything but friendly. "It's mine. And if you want to catch Maul, you'll take it. It's the fastest one
here, and the sleekest so it won't be detected too quickly. I don't think you understand what's
going on here, Larin. I'm not *offering* to help you. You're either working with me or not, take
your pick."
     "What are you doing?" Vaiya cried from the doorway as she entered, dressed hastily in
her black Jedi uniform like the one her father wore. It was the only thing she could get into fast
enough. "Get into the shuttle, Larin! We'll need all the help we can get!"
     Iyala turned to Vaiya and smiled, the first sign of warmth she'd shown through the entire
confrontation. "At last," she said, her voice softening, "the voice of reason."
     Vaiya nodded and made a motion at Larin to get into the shuttle. At her hip, he noticed,
she had her double-bladed lightsaber latched to her belt. "Come on, we've got no time to waste."

     The first rays of dawn were drifting over the horizon as Maul's stolen ship came within
landing distance. As the sky turned a deep shade of blue green, he was reminded of a more
distant time when he had come to a desert, on a mission from his Master. But then he had known
his purpose, his goal. Do his Master's bidding, no more and no less. Although he was not sure of
his mission, he knew his goal--seek revenge. It would be a long time, though, before he would
have any kind of power to do any real damage to this new government, this new united galaxy.
His Master had always stressed patience to him--only now were those lessons beginning to sink
in.
     He lowered the ramp and shielded his eyes against the faint light. For the hundredth time,
he wished he had his sith infiltrator, and for the hundredth time he dismissed such a vain wish.
He would have had to spend months searching for it among the many ships in deep storage,
provided it was even still there--either his Master would have disposed of it, or those who had
disposed of his Master.
     He hadn't managed to get any decent clothes beyond his white hospital garments when
he'd left Coruscant, so he'd been forced to rummage through the doctor's personal belongings.
Nothing fit him--the doctor's slim, half-twi-lek form was half Maul's own width. He made a
cloak out of some dark material and rummaged what credits he could from the doctor's
belongings to buy some trousers. In the meanwhile, he just wore the white hospital bottoms,
feeling ridiculous but knowing he'd feel more ridiculous wearing nothing at all.
     As he set foot on the desert floor, he felt a disturbance in the Force and glanced upward.
A small squad of ships was emerging from hyperspace a little too close to the planet. So his
pursuers had not given up, eh? He would just have to show them....
     They came closer, their forms getting larger as they closed in upon his location. He
reached upward, through the shortening distance as his Master had taught him, searching for
their rage. Human minds were so easy to detect, even from long distances, and even easier to
manipulate. He touched their emotions, felt their frustration, and began to twist---
     There was a small spark as one ship suddenly fired on another. And then another, and
then another. He could feel their buzzing as they screamed at each other to stop and then
promptly turned around to open fire again. Three of the ten ships exploded within a few minutes,
and another two limped off to crash onto the desert floor a good ten or twenty miles away from
him.
     He smiled. He had not lost his abilities. In fact, if anything, they had grown.
     That was when he felt the presence of the light behind him, and realized it was too late--
his attention had been focused too hard on the ships above him. He didn't see the shuttle creep
up on him until it opened fire and his stolen craft partly exploded, sending him flying into the
heavy dunes around him.
     He stood up, enraged and forgetting entirely about the battle above him that he had
caused. He didn't have a lightsaber, he realized as he unconsciously clawed at his belt, but he did
have a few tricks up his sleeve. As the shuttle swung around and attempted to land, he sent a
heavy telekinetic burst at it, and the ship wobbled hard, nearly tipping on its side. He felt their
fear as the ground seemed to move up under them, but whoever the pilot was, she was good. As
she grasped the controls and brought the ship hard around again, steadying it, the hatch slid open
and a man jumped out.
     A man with a brilliant white lightsaber.
     A Jedi.
     "Maul!" he shouted, "if you come quietly it will go easier on you!"
     Maul growled in contempt, but without a lightsaber he was no match for the Jedi. But he
wasn't going to go down without a fight, either. Using the Force, he stirred up the heavy sand
beneath their feet and hurled a cloud of it at the Jedi, causing the man to stumble in his tracks.
Maul grinned with pleasure as he watched his onslaught accomplish its purpose, but didn't waste
too much time before he turned on his heels and began his run for the open dunes.
Unfortunately, the shuttle was rather fast and managed to get on his other side, trapping him
between the choking Jedi and its open hatch.
     From the hatch extended a hand, almost as if offering the object it held to him. The
object was a double bladed lightsaber.
     He stopped, stunned. A Jedi, carrying his weapon? But as the blades ignited he saw that
they were not red for the sith, but a pale violet, like the sky around them. And the woman behind
them....
     Maul caught his breath. This one was familiar to him...perhaps he had never seen her
before, but there was something about her that he knew. As if she were connected to---
     The name came from his mouth before he could stop it--"Iyala."
     There was no more time for thought as a sharp blow lanced across the back of his head
and he fell face first into the sand, an undignified, unconscious heap.

     "Did you get him?" Vaiya called from the pilot's seat as Larin entered the shuttle. She
stood up and saw that he was dragging something into the back, with Iyala bringing up the rear.
     "Easy as Ewok pie," Larin said with a grunt as they hauled Maul's unconscious body into
the back and promptly strapped him down. Iyala snorted.
     "Too easy," she whispered. "I don't like it. We only got him because we had surprise on
our side." She looked back out over the desert. "Someone had better get a rescue team out here
soon. Those pilots took a pretty harsh beating."
     "But how did he do that?" Vaiya asked, coming to the door. She glanced at Iyala, amazed
at the Force presence she was feeling from her. After all, the woman was only a tweak!
     "The dark side," Iyala said, and her voice sounded different, deeper. She smiled at Vaiya,
but Vaiya wasn't sure what kind of smile it was. "Your mother told you that we were related,
didn't she? At least, that I'm related to his wife. I was even named after her...Iyala. I knew the
second he saw me he would falter."
     Larin grunted. "So that's why you were so determined," he muttered.
     She glanced at him. "There wasn't any time for me to explain it," she said, almost as if by
way of apology. "Any more time and we would have missed our chance." She glanced down at
Maul. "Funny, he doesn't look how I pictured."
     "That's because no one knew what he looked like until now," Vaiya said. "Come on,
we've got to take care of those pilots. Larin, send for help. Iyala, come with me."  Then to
herself, she muttered, "I wish Ben was here."
     Iyala sighed, overhearing. "To be honest...do so I."

     No, he wasn't what she had expected at all.
     Iyala watched the sleeping form, strapped heavily into place. His horns were caked with
sand and his face was smeared with dirt, and there was a heavy red bruise forming on his crown.
He was still in his hospital clothes, which were beginning to fray.
     "So what do you know about him?" Vaiya asked from the seat across from her as Larin
piloted the shuttle back home. Once the rescue teams had arrived, they'd been ordered to take
Maul back to the main dock, where a transport would be waiting to take him back to Coruscant,
under proper arrest. "You said you were related to his wife, but I never got the story."
     Iyala grunted, sending a quick glance at Larin before she began telling what she knew.
She had spent some time in her family's records, researching her dreams as she had waited for
Maul to make his appearance in her life. She had discovered much that made sense. "My great-
great aunt Iyala was a bounty hunter before Durran closed its territories off. She met a Zabrak
during one of her missions. Iyala and your great grandfather Valeris were cousins, I think...which
kinda makes us related, distantly. Like fourth or fifth cousins or so, I don't know." She shrugged,
exhausted. "At any rate, when Maul went off to join the cult, it ended badly with them. He came
back once, to take their son and make him one of the cult brothers, and then came back a final
time, this time on a mission from the Emperor."
     Vaiya felt her heart start to race. Maul had come back for his son...to make him part of
the cult...."What was it?"
     "To kill her. Like the final test of the sith or something." Her face hardened. "He
succeeded, and also killed a Jedi named Zeren. Zeren had been a loyal friend of the family, and
at one point had been engaged to my great grandmother, but broke it off when Maul stole Iyala's
son. Zeren felt the need to devote himself to Iyala. He claimed he didn't love her, but wanted to
protect her. He was following his Jedi hunches. He died following his Jedi hunches." She
paused, her eyes growing distant. "It makes sense, kinda," she said, almost to herself. "When I
was born, right before my great-grandmother died, she had a vision of me, fully grown, and said
I was the image of my great-great aunt. So they named me after her--Iyala. Funny...I didn't even
remember that until just now."
     "How did you find all of this out?"
     Iyala's eyes settled onto Vaiya. "There's a detailed recording of Iyala's misadventure in
our family history." She snorted. "Funny how no one pays attention to anything until they have
to."
     "Iyala," Vaiya said, her voice suddenly grave, "what happened?"
     Iyala jumped, feeling her cheeks burn. "What do you mean?"
     Vaiya shook her head. "You've changed...when I first met you, you were so friendly and
open. Now, it's like...I don't know. Like you're angry about something."
     For a long time, Iyala looked down at her feet. Then, she turned her eyes back to Maul's
sleeping form. "What do we do with him when he wakes up?" she asked.
     "We continue to restrain him,"  Vaiya said evenly.
     "And if he doesn't want to be? I mean, he is a sith lord."
     Vaiya shrugged. "He's also a clone. We don't know how much like the original he might
be. We're lucky he had memories of your great great aunt."
     "But what if he isn't a clone?" Iyala asked.
     "Does it matter?" Vaiya's voice sounded hollow, distant. "He's still a threat, either way.
We'll keep him our prisoner any way we can."
     Iyala nodded. "I hope it's that simple. Because he's awake."

     He opened his eyes and heard the murmuring sound of voices. One of them was heavy
and sweet, tinted with a familiar accent but also tainted with the dark chords of anger and hate.
The other was a bit harsher, raspy, but also feminine. He blinked several times, trying to get the
world to focus, but there was a terrible, throbbing pain on the back of his head.
     Using the Force, he shoved the pain away and lifted his head. Instantly, he regretted it.
His mastery of the Force had been stunted by his long sleep, and his suppression of pain needed
work. He let out a groan, and there was someone beside him, placing a cool cloth on his head.
     "Careful, Iyala." the rougher voice called out. "Watch for his teeth."
     He started at the abrupt use of the familiar name. His vision refocused and he saw the
familiar face looking down at him. Her hair, a rich black-red, fell across her shoulder in a heavy
braid, and there was a band of silver on her head bearing a single oval emerald. Her eyes and
skin were dark and golden, but her face...the features were so familiar.
     He just looked at her for a long time, struggling to remember. Then there was movement,
a flash of gold and black, and he looked down toward his feet to see the other woman standing
over him, her arms crossed defiantly.
     He frowned at her, sensing her familiarity but unable to believe it. A descendant of his
Master? Here? Serving the light? Surely there had to be some explanation...his Master would
never have allowed the chance of such a thing to happen.
     "I'd welcome you back to the world, but that seems a little redundant, now."
     He tilted his head a bit, mocking her. "Not as redundant as your little attempt to capture
me." He reached out for her with his mind, and realized that she, too, was a strong Jedi. She had
inherited Palpatine's power, if not his glory. "Release me now and I won't destroy you."
     "And we're supposed to trust a sith?" the other one asked, and Maul turned his eyes to see
that his nurse was also standing over him, just as unyielding. *Iyala...* he thought. His Iyala. His
wife....and then he scowled at them both, his rage taking precedence.
     "The price for trusting me will be nothing compared to the price for defying me," he
growled.
     "Oh, we're so scared," the first woman whispered, widening her eyes.
     Suddenly, Maul started to laugh. It was a frightening site, he knew, even more disturbing
than the many glares and growls he'd perfected during his years. But it was so funny--the dark
side was all around them. He could see their anger, feel it as it fed him. He could sense the dark
one's rage and hate, the fair one's sense of self-loathing and ever-constant fear. And there was
another, the one who had attacked him, the Jedi...a knot of uncertainty had twisted its way into
his stomach, taking all the fight from him and leaving him with only the complacent desire to
return Maul to his former captors.
     They were all so pathetic.
     "Oh, you will be," he said in a soft voice as the laughter left him and he settled back into
his bindings. "You will be."

     "Thank the Force," Luke muttered as he gazed at the holo of his wife.
     "Yesterday," Mara confirmed. "They're preparing Maul for transport back here. I don't
know what's taking them so long--probably trying to make sure he can't escape again."
     "It's going to be hard to contain a sith," Luke agreed, his face still clenched into an
uneasy expression. "Perhaps Vaiya and Larin need to consider coming with him."
     Mara shook her head. "No, actually, they told me that they're going to head to Yavin IV,
to pay you a visit. They're going to take a small vacation together. And Iyala's going to
accompany Maul back here."
     "Iyala?" Luke frowned. "Why?"
     "She offered her help. I took it. After all, she is kind of family."
     Luke grunted. "You'll take her help, but me you want to stay here."
     Mara sighed. "You're still mad at me."
     "I'm not mad at you, Mara," Luke said. "I'm concerned about you. You're in a dangerous
spot."
     She gave him an almost playful look. "And I need you to come and rescue me, huh?"
     He leaned forward, wishing more than anything that she were here in the flesh. "Mara,
you know better than that. I've got a really bad feeling, and I hate it when you try to ignore that."
     "I know," Mara sighed again. "I know that you've got a bad feeling and I'm being careful,
I promise! I'm not going anywhere near Maul when they bring him back. Seth and I have been
working with the datacards we've been finding."
     "But that doesn't mean that you're not in danger." The urging was stronger now. He
reached out to her with the Force, crossing the light years between them with the speed of
thought. After all their married years, their bond was stronger than ever. *Palpatine has done
something here and none of us know exactly what. I have a feeling that something is going to
happen to you.*
     *Something has already happened,* she replied, and although her tone was soothing, her
words were not. Luke bridled, but their minds touched and he relaxed into her subconscious,
strolling along the memories that she was offering to him.
     She was seventeen, and it was just after Vader had suggested that they try and turn Luke
to the dark side. The Emperor had been disturbed by Vader's suggestion, knowing in his own
mind that there could be only two sith at any one time, and that either he needed to eliminate
Vader, or Vader desired to eliminate him. But the thought of destroying them both and creating
for himself a new apprentice was almost irresistible, and turned his mind back to the experiment
he had been growing, deep within the cloning chambers on Wayland. He sent for the tube to be
brought to Coruscant and placed it down below, where he hatched Darth Maul for the first time.
     It was the real Maul...his black and red tattoos were burned brightly into Mara's memory.
She was in the private rooms of the palace, back from one of her many assignments, her prize
still in her hand--the lightsaber of an old, alien Jedi that had managed to escape the purgings. It
was a pink lightsaber, a familiar lightsaber that she carried with her for some time since.
     Luke detected Mara's amusement at the perchance memory. Apparently when the
memory of Maul had been erased, so had the source of the lightsaber. *But who---?* Luke tried
to ask, and she hushed him as the vision continued.
     Palpatine had confided in her his worry about Vader and Luke, and then smiled at her in
his oddly paternal way, then more harshly, as if sizing her up. Unquestioning of her Master,
Mara had waited patiently for him to reveal whatever it was she sensed he wanted to show her,
and then he turned and called into the room a man dressed in a heavy black robe, his face a
brilliant, evil mask. She had resisted the urge to jump in fright--this strong-headed, willful but
completely submissive Mara had an enormous amount of pride and refused to let herself show
vulnerability. Instead she had ordered her feet to remain rooted in place as Palpatine made the
introduction, and Darth Maul had approached her, his red and yellow eyes gleaming in the dim
light like cat's eyes.
     Mara was defiant against his glare as he attempted to hold her in his gaze, and she had
even snorted contemptuously at him, saying that it took more than a funny look to turn her knees
into jelly. Instead of replying, Maul had closed the distance between them, and there was a spark
of respect on his cold expression, even as he raised his hand and backhanded her across the face.
As she hit the ground in an undignified sprawl, his deep, icy voice ordered her to kneel in his
presence.
     Palpatine had just laughed.
     Mara wanted to gut him where he stood, and she even ignited her lightsaber, but Maul
was stronger in the Force than she and it was ripped from her grasp. He examined the weapon
and then casually tossed it to one side as he reached down and grasped her by her hair, pulling
her back up. She screeched in outrage, swung her fists out at him but was thrown off by his
sudden shifting of her weight. Before she knew it, he had slung her over his shoulder and he
smacked her on her rump, *hard.*
     The indignity with which she was being treated was beyond her. Her servitude was going
to end up turning her into just another concubine? The rage swelled within her and she reached
with the Force, calling the discarded lightsaber back to her hand. She ignited it and swung down
hard, but Maul abruptly let go, and her swing singed the hem of his cloak. She hit the ground on
her side, hard, the pain rocketing through her but not stopping her from her defense. She
scrambled to her feet and put the bright pink blade between them, glaring at Maul, almost daring
him to *just try that again....*
     Palpatine laughed and clapped his hands, and abruptly Maul's attention flew to him.
"Well done, Mara Jade," the Emperor said, approaching. "See, I told you she would not be an
easy conquest."
     Maul only growled in reply, his glare shooting back to Mara. She straightened, ignoring
the lumps in her side as she stepped away. Her rage was still flowing through her, and she cursed
them both, loudly, before deactivating the blade and limping from the room, hating them both,
tears streaming from her eyes.
     She spent a few days in her private rooms, and the Emperor had, in a strange act of
mercy, not summoned her before her wounded pride could heal. What Maul and Palpatine had
done was beyond her, but she didn't care. Her rage was so great she even considered leaving, just
disappearing one night, melting into the fabric of the Empire, the gift her Master had given her
turning to his disadvantage. But that was a useless plan, she quickly decided. Palpatine could
speak to her from anywhere. He would find her, and her life would end.
     Slowly and painfully.
     On the third day, she had an unwanted visitor. But this time, Maul seemed to be a bit
more rational, with no stupid attempts to manhandle her. In fact, with the way he presented
himself, it seemed beneath him this time to do such a thing. He was collected and distant, calmly
relating to her the message Palpatine had sent. She was to obey Maul in whatever he wished her
to do, plain and simple.
     Mara had replied by spitting on Maul's feet. "I serve Palpatine," she growled. "Not you."
     "I serve Palpatine," he replied, "and you shall serve me. It is as the Master commands."
     He stood stock still, however, still making no attempt to touch her. So Mara decided to
go with a touch of reason. "What do you want from me, anyway? What good am I to you? I'm
trained as an assassin, and other than that I'm basically just a glorified messenger. You seem to
be more than capable of handling things yourself. You have no need of a person like me."
     He smiled at her, a frightening site, and this time, he did come closer to her, although he
still did not try and touch her. "Indeed, Mara Jade, you have underestimated your importance.
The Emperor does not give his first apprentice any mere person as a gift, but someone of great
value."
     She sighed. "Depends on how you rate value. I can dance...that's about it."
     His smile softened, and now he was so close to her Mara felt like he was touching her.
She found herself suddenly unable to move as she gazed up into that face, with its brilliant mask
covering what were not unhandsome features.
     But the evil that radiated from him--the void of emotion, the stale hunger of his lust--
made her desire nothing more than to step back.
     Instead, he leaned forward and kissed her.
     It was then that Vader entered the room.
     Maul seized Mara's pink lightsaber and made an attempt to defend himself, but it was of
little use. Within a minute, Vader had chased Maul from the room, but before he left, Vader
turned to Mara, who was watching him with the same awed respect she had always held for the
man.
     What was going on under his mechanical mask, only Anakin Skywalker knew. But
without any word, Vader reached out and touched Mara on her forehead, and she instantly
collapsed into a deep sleep. When she awoke, the saber was in her room, and she had no
memory of Maul. Not his first insult to her, not Palpatine's orders, and certainly not their kiss.
     *Until now,* Luke sent. *So it was Vader who put Maul in stasis.*
     *Yes,* Mara said, *it must have been. Because I never saw him again after that day. Why
he didn't kill him, I have no idea. Maybe he let Maul live because he knew that Palpatine would
not tolerate his death, not after all the trouble he'd gone through to keep him alive. But
imprisoning him let Palpatine think that perhaps he could try again on another day.*
     *He who fights and runs away...* Luke thought.
     "Vader was no fool," Mara said aloud, jarring Luke from the contact. Her face was
slightly flushed, but she continued evenly. "I can't believe that Palpatine thought he could
actually get away with what he was trying to do, though."
     "I'm sure he had good reasons," Luke muttered. "Now I'm more convinced than ever that
you're in danger."
     "And I told you, I'm not going anywhere near Maul when they bring him back." She
shuddered. "I wouldn't want to. I'm surprised I feel as friendly as I do toward Seth...but he's not
his father. I'm hoping Iyala can tell us more about his mother---"
     "I doubt it," Luke cut in. "She didn't know her. The story has been passed down to her,
but she wasn't there."
     "No, but Valeris said something about their physical resemblance. Maybe we can glean
Maul for information, using her as bait. Provided," she added hastily, "that Iyala is willing."
     "I wouldn't blame her if she wasn't."
     "Neither would I." There was an awkward silence, and Mara scowled. "Okay, I really
don't like this. One of us has to say something nice soon or I'm gonna get mad."
     Luke snorted, but felt himself smiling in spite of his bad feeling. "Does 'I love you'
count?"
     Mara smiled. "It'll work. I love you too."
     Luke nodded. "Then be careful. And if you change your mind, call me. Immediately."
     "Yes, yes..."
     "I mean it, Mara."
     "I know you do!" she shot back, but there was no hostility in her voice. "Stars, Luke! I'm
not the stubborn, prideful wench I used to be, you know that!"
     He just looked at her.
     "Okay, but I'm not as bad as I used to be, you have to admit!"
     He sighed. "Okay. I trust you, Mara. Call again soon."
     "I will." And the holo faded.
 

<:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::[BIGBADMAUL]

     So a blatant attempt at escape was not going to work...this time, he would need to be sly.
And if he wanted to be sly, he needed help. It was a hard thing for him to admit, but after only a
short length of thought, he realized that the perfect candidate was right before him.
     Iyala.
     The resemblance was painful. Maul was grateful that her eyes were only brown, rather
than the bright green that used to pin him in place. It was uncomfortable to look at her, though,
but that only made him more determined. A sith never showed weakness. And regret was
something he would never allow himself to feel.
     At least, not willingly.
     They had put him in a cell, and while it was not a hard thing for him to escape from it,
getting anywhere from the cell was going to be a problem. The entire ship was a prison, ready to
take him back to Coruscant. There were too many people around in the docking bay, but once
they were in space--for some reason the ship was detained for a few days--the number would
drastically decrease. He considered slaying everyone on the ship and taking it over, but what to
do once he landed? They would catch on and seize him again if he made the slightest mistake,
for now their eyes were heavy upon him, ready for whatever he might try to do.
     No, he needed to be cunning. And he needed someone to guide him through this new
world that he had been hurled into. Before he'd only been relying on his own prowess and
knowledge. As much as it galled him to admit that it wasn't enough, he had to accept it, or else
he was a fool.
     And Maul was no fool. So, as much as it disturbed him, he watched Iyala.
     And disturb him it did.
     The last memory he had of his Iyala was the look on her face as his lightsaber had
stabbed through her chest. If it had only been that, though, maybe he could have dismissed it as
just another conquest, another mission completed for Master Sidious. For after all, Sidious had
ordered him to kill Iyala, knowing what the woman meant to him and unwilling to let Maul's
heart be divided from the dark side in any way.
     It had worked. Maul had never regretted the choice. But now, as he watched this Iyala, he
felt as if a ghost were trying to haunt him. *Trying,* indeed, for Maul refused to let anything
haunt him save for his last failure as Sidious' apprentice---letting Vader trap him in that stasis
block.
     And the woman with the green eyes and red hair who had almost resisted him.
     Iyala avoided him at first, keeping her distance as they marched him to his cell, but soon
she took on the responsibility of bringing him his food and making sure he was cared for. She
never spoke as she entered and exited the room, sometimes she did not even look at him,
although he watched her. He did not try to speak to her for the first few days, but a few hours
before the ship was scheduled to land on Coruscant, the Force told Maul he had to act quickly or
else there would be no chance.
     She was in her small, private room, which wasn't much outside of a bunk and a metal
desk, when he managed to slip out of his cell for the first time. The guards were all around him,
but with a careful touch on their minds he put them all into a sound sleep. There was no reason
to kill them yet...as much as it would please him, it would only alert the ship rather than keep it
complacent and vulnerable.
     Using the Force, he slid the door open and felt Iyala jump. He hastily stepped into the
room and shut the door behind him, reaching her mere seconds before she decided to scream and
clamping a hand across her mouth.
     They had changed him into a slate-grey jumpsuit which looked like a prison uniform, and
it didn't fit him very well. The effort to restrain her pulled the wide neck to one side and it was
half-hanging off of his shoulder by the time she was still.
     "Don't fight me...I'm not here to hurt you." He'd decided that the best tact to take with her
was the innocent route, but it felt so unnatural that his words came out sounding more roughly
seductive than pleading. Especially with the husky tone of his voice.
     Her brown eyes were wide and angry as they glared at him. He could feel her thoughts,
and knew that just like his Iyala, she was only a tweak. But it was enough for him to get his point
across.
     *I promise I won't hurt you,* he sent to her.
     *Liar,* she bit back. *I know who you are, Darth Maul. You killed your own wife...
should I think you'd value me any more?*
     Abruptly, he let her go, and she tumbled onto her small bed. Quickly, she scrambled to
get her back to the wall, her limited Jedi training becoming obvious as she moved into a self-
defensive stance.
     For a second, he just stared at her, and then he smiled when he realized she was not
moving, only waiting on him. "Then why haven't you called the guards?" he rasped. "You've had
more than enough time to alert them."
     "What? And have you kill me sooner?" She shook her head. "I'm not the fool my great,
great aunt was, Maul."
     His expression darkened. "Iyala was no fool." Then he stepped back, forcing himself to
relax. "So you are her descendant."
     "Yes." The anger slowly ebbed from her face as she, too, attempted to relax. He leaned
back against the nearby wall, folding his hands before him.
     "I see. And you know the story." He shrugged, but reached out with a tendril of the Force
into her mind. Before he had detected an enormous amount of rage, hatred...envy. If it was still
there--and such quantities were never quickly dissipated--perhaps he could appeal to her
honestly.
     Honesty...something the dark side rarely used, but such an effective weapon, he mused.
     "It is a hard thing when the one you love...loves someone else, is it not?"
     She jerked slightly, startled. "What has that to do with anything?"
     He smiled. "Everything, Iyala. Why do you think I really killed your great, great aunt? Do
you honestly think that I did it because I hated her?"
     "You loved her...that was why you had to kill her," Iyala shot back. "Your sacrifice to the
dark side--"
     He shook his head. "Your legends lie. Perhaps you know of Zeren, the Jedi who was
supposed to be protecting her? No one mentions that he was in love with her. He was a Jedi, he
was perfect. He attached himself to nothing in this world. Bantha dung." He spit on the ground,
letting his emotions show, if only for a few moments. "He was trying to hide her from me. When
I came in, they were...."
     Iyala was pressed back against the wall slightly as a Force vibration rippled through her.
     "And you killed them? Out of jealousy?"
     "Yes."
     She shook her head. "You're still a servant of the dark side."
     "That is because the dark side didn't punish me for my crime. It embraced me. It healed
me. I gave me what Iyala had never given me. It gave me myself."
     "But what you did was wrong."
     He shrugged. "Right and wrong...it's all in your point of view. On my homeworld, to kill
an unfaithful wife is accepted and embraced as the right path. You judge me by your moral
codes. But do you even consider mine?"
     She was silent for several minutes, and he bided his time, letting his words sink in.
     "But," she finally said, "you still served the dark side. You were still an agent of evil.
Even if you don't see killing an unfaithful wife as wrong, you still murdered many more after--"
     "I killed no one save a Jedi Master who thought he could best me." The venom dripped
from Maul's voice as the memory came back to him. "Qui-Gon Jinn and his twit apprentice, Obi-
Wan Kenobi, were trying to use the Queen of Naboo for their own purposes."
     "So was your master."
     "He was serving the people. I was defending him."
     She laughed. "You can't honestly make me think that the dark side is right."
     He stepped closer to her. "Can't I?" His eyes narrowed, their yellow and red orbs turning
into dangerously glowing slits. "I can feel the dark side in you, Iyala. It is strong. The light has
been denied to you, hasn't it? It has held itself at bay, selfish in what it gives, offering you only
loneliness. The one you love has rejected you and married another, and you tried to walk down
the path of the Jedi, living its solitary, empty life in complete loyalty...but it rejected you too. So
you have nothing. Why are you even here, if not to gain a piece of yourself?"
     She shuddered as he drew even closer, but he could feel her mind turning toward him,
terrified by his words because they were starting to feel like the truth. "They say the dark side is
selfishness," she said, as if that were a shield.
     "Indeed, it is. Maybe not self-ISH ness, but self-FULL ness. It is the fullness of yourself,
Iyala. You know it is there."
     "But to possess it one must give in to rage and hatred," she tried.
     "One must give in to passion and righteous anger. You are passionate. And you are so
very angry. You have every right to be angry, Iyala." He was deeper into her mind now, he could
see the face of the man from earlier, the Jedi who had attacked him from behind. Attacked him
with no honor...Maul felt his own rage grow strong and clasp onto hers, being fed by it and
feeding it at the same time. "He used you and then tossed you away."
     She shuddered again, this time harder. "No...."
     "Yes." He touched her arm with his fingertips, lightly. Slowly, so slowly, she turned to
him, and he could see into her soul. He could see her fear, her terror...being outcast, being
rejected...being deserted by everyone.
     Being alone...forever.
     "You are not alone, Iyala. Not anymore." He drew her into his arms and she accepted,
even as the tears ran down her cheeks and she sobbed against his chest, grieving over her own
overwhelming desire to believe him, furious at herself and yet knowing she wanted to believe
him. Because if she believed him, then she would never have to fear being alone ever again.
     Or so he told her in his mind as he kissed her lips. But even as he seduced her, he gazed
upon her beauty and thought of younger days, and had to resist being seduced by her.
     *Iyala,* he sent to her, entering her mind as he entered her body, *you are one with me.
You will never be alone again.*
     She sobbed as she gave in to him, completely and utterly.

     "I need a weapon," he said a short while later as they lay on her bunk, their nude bodies
on top of the covers, their limbs tangled together. Although he was far from comfortable in such
an intimate position, and had desired to leave her as soon as they had finished mating, he had
stayed, knowing that now was the most vulnerable time, perhaps the only time when he could
get what he truly wanted. He had to humor her if this was going to work.
     She murmured sleepily, her face pressed against the pillow. She lifted her head and Maul
had to resist being charmed by her flushed cheeks and bright eyes.
     "I can get you one." He sensed her heart flutter, and cocked an eyebrow.
     "What?" he asked. "What is it?"
     She sat up, grabbing at her clothes. "Wait here...I have to show you. I want it to be a
surprise."
     He almost laughed as she scurried to dress herself. But then he remembered...."I must
return to my cell, or else they will miss me," he pointed out.
     She shook her head. "I will be right back. I promise!" And she slipped out of the room.
     Maul waited as the minutes ticked past. Perhaps she would bring him that splendid
double-bladed lightsaber she had wielded earlier. But that couldn't have been hers...she wasn't
skilled enough in the Force to make such a weapon. It was a miracle that she had even wielded it
for the short time it had taken them to capture him.
     But then again, he reminded himself, it was the dark side that she had used. The irony of
Iyala's descendant becoming his darkside pawn...it was almost too good to be true.
     When she returned, she carried a hauntingly familiar object with her. She handed it to
him, and he felt his heart rise into his throat.
     Iyala's cortis ore wand. She had never carried a lightsaber, only this weapon that was a
blade of cortis ore, melted and hardened into a crystal-like substance powerful enough to cut
down a lightsaber.
     "Where did you get that?" he whispered, not reaching up to take it.
     "It's been in the family for a long time," she said, moving to sit down beside him when he
didn't take it from her. "It was given to me when they found out I was a tweak. My branch of the
family never produced any great Jedi," she laughed. "Tweaks were all we got, and your Iyala was
one of the few. So was I...so it came to me."
     Slowly, he reached out and took the golden handle, and then ignited the blade. It's
familiar stench was nothing like a lightsaber's ozone, but instead a thick, glassy smell. The blade
crackled as it glowed slightly, the cortis ore very active in its crystallized state.
     "Will this work?"
     "It will do," he said, forcing his hesitation away. Yes, it would do. It was not a lightsaber
but it could defeat a lightsaber, and until he gained the materials to remake his own lightsaber it
would accomplish his purpose. "Tell me...who did that other lightsaber belong to? The one with
two blades."
     He was satisfied with the sudden wave of contempt that came from her. It was
unfortunate for the light that she had been so weak...she learned very quickly. And she was
feeding him nicely. "That was Vaiya's," she said in a low voice.
     "Vaiya?" The name was Durranian in nature..."Is she the other woman who was with
you?"
     "Yes. Larin's wife." The wave of contempt rolled back into her, and she straightened, her
expression curling into loathing as she began to quote the lineage. "Grand-uppity Jedi Master
Vaiya Jade Skywalker, daughter of Luke and Mara Skywalker, granddaughter of the last great
lord of the sith, Darth Vader---"
     He swung his arm out and grasped her wrist hard. "Vader," he rasped, losing control of
himself for only a moment. "You said...Vader? Darth Vader?"
     She looked at him, her eyes wide. "Yes. Luke Skywalker was Darth Vader's son. Oh,
wait--" and her she smiled, "that was before your time...wasn't it?"
     He swallowed hard and forced himself to relax. Vader's descendants...Palaptine's
descendant...the same woman? And Mara Jade...Mara Jade was Palpatine's...daughter...yes, he
remembered that part. He remembered Palpatine bestowing upon him the great honor of
impregnating his own daughter with his future heir, for he was too old to try and sire a son, and a
daughter had been all he could accomplish. So Mara and Luke Skywalker, the son of Darth
Vader, had had a child.
     Yes...it was all coming together in his mind now, a picture so glorious he had to resist his
urge to stand up and shout out his victory.
     The dark side was so strong in them! He would avenge his Master in the most fitting of
ways--he would turn them all into what they hated the most! He would turn them all to the dark
side, and create his own sith army!
     And the dark side had already done half the work for him!
     "Maul?" Iyala said, her voice small. His eyes were glowing bright with his thoughts, and
as he turned to her he had to soften his gaze as she flinched.
     "Yes, my love," he whispered.
     "Are you...pleased with the gift?"
     He smiled at her. "Most pleased with the gift." And he pulled her close to him again,
kissing her passionately. Then, he released her and stood up.
     "Where are you going?"
     "Back to my cell. To wait," he said, remembering what Sidious had tried to teach him--
patience. Always patience. Now, he finally understood.
     "But---!" she protested, but he silenced her with a quick glare.
     "Soon," he promised. "When we land, you must prepare a transport. They will take me to
a cell and try to lock me away...when I call for you, you must answer."
     "And then what?"
     "Then...we will reveal ourselves to this Jedi," he said, feeling his old powers course
through him. "And we will have our revenge."