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  She looked over the list again. “Vinsoth? Really? That’s unusual. As far as slavery goes, they’re positively civilized about it. The Chevs are treated better by the Chevins than many so called ‘free people’ on other worlds.”

  “Perhaps it does not quite seem so to the Chevs,” Dorvan said mildly.

  “Perhaps the Chevs might do a little research,” Daala said, irritation creeping into her husky voice. She handed the pad back to Dorvan, sighed, and rubbed her temples. “You know, one day I’d like to make it to noon with no bad news.”

  “I’ll have Desha deliver the morning briefing in the future, then.”

  Daala smiled a little, but it did not reach her eyes. “Anything else?”

  There was. Dorvan ran down the list. Rumors of discontent among the Moffs—nothing new. The Senate was locked in debate over extending certain treaties. Species pride parades were blocking off certain sections of the city, and extra guards were being required to make sure order was maintained.

  “And finally, I will be continuing my lunch breaks on the steps of the Temple.”

  He had started these a few days ago, taking his packed lunch—Dorvan always ate at his desk, he never had time to actually leave it to visit the cafeteria—and sitting next to Raynar Thul, who kept a strange sort of vigil every afternoon.

  Thul would come out and simply sit at noontime, an eerie personage who was Jedi, but not convincingly so human, but not fully so. His mind went in interesting and fascinating directions, and while Dorvan ostensibly went to see if he had anything that could possibly be of use to the GA, he enjoyed the conversations on a personal level.

  For a while, Thul had been thronged by reporters, but they seemed to have dwindled after the first few days. His conversations with anyone were always public, including those he had with Dorvan.

  “How’s that going?” Daala inquired.

  Dorvan shrugged. “Thul is a fascinating person. I haven’t enjoyed lunch quite so much in some time. But as for assisting us, I don’t think he really thinks in those terms.”

  “Well, you’ve not taken a vacation in the entire time you’ve worked for me, Dorvan, so if you feel like spending your lunch breaks listening to a madman spin tales, then I certainly won’t stop you.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” He rose to leave.

  “Wynn?”

  “Yes ma’am?”

  “That game of politics—I think it’s time you started to learn to play. You may tell Raynar Thul that starting today, he’ll be having lunch with Wynn Dorvan—my Chief of Staff.”

  He paused and looked at her. She smiled and nodded; she was quite serious. “Well, then,” Dorvan said, “I’ll accept his congratulations, or perhaps condolences.”

  Daala chuckled.

  Klatooine was an arid planet. Ben, Vestara, and Luke peered down on a sandy yellow ball of a world, marked only by a few areas of vegetation or the blue of oceans.

  “Lovely,” Vestara said, wrinkling her nose.

  “Do you not like desert worlds? Is your homeworld lush and green, Vestara?” Luke said casually, locking them into orbit.

  Vestara’s full lips thinned and she remained silent, but otherwise she showed no sign of the irritation Ben knew she must be feeling. Ben didn’t know about his dad or her, but he was getting awfully tired of all this dancing around everything.

  He wished he could just talk to her, like a regular girl. He wished he could trust her.

  He wished she weren’t Sith.

  “So what’s worth writing home about this place?” he asked his father, more to break the uncomfortable silence than because he was actually curious.

  “Not a lot,” Luke replied. “Here are the beings we’ll be interacting with. We have a couple of days while we wait for Lando, and it’s a good opportunity to resupply before heading into the Maw.”

  He touched a button and a hologram appeared, slowly turning. It was of a bipedal being, with a bald pate, deep-set eyes, and heavy jowls around a mouthful of sharp teeth. The hands and feet looked humanoid, but there was something about how the face was arranged that made Ben think of a—

  “Dog,” he said. “The Klatooinians evolved from canines, didn’t they?”

  “Sharp eyes,” Luke said, “And you’re right.”

  Vestara’s lip had curled in repugnance. “What ugly creatures,” she said.

  Luke smiled at her thinly. “I wouldn’t dismiss them quite so quickly. They may not be attractive to your eyes, Vestara, but their culture predates even the Old Republic. You’re looking at one of the oldest species in the galaxy.”

  “Hmph,” Vestara said, but Ben noticed that she looked slightly impressed. He, too, had a new respect for the Klatooinians.

  “They’ve been in service to the Hutts for over twenty-five thousand years,” Luke continued.

  Ben grimaced and sighed. “You know, Dad, when you told me on Sinkhole Station that you thought I hadn’t spent enough time with Hutts and were hoping to correct that … I thought you were joking.”

  “Strange are the ways of the Force,” Luke said with mock seriousness. Ben could almost see Vestara’s ears prick up at the word Hutts, but she did not ask what they were. Ben hoped she would not get to find out firsthand.

  “The Klatooinians saw the Hutts as near-gods, and the Hutts took advantage of this,” Luke continued, returning to his explanation. “They tricked the Klatooinians into signing a treaty that ensured their service for an undefined period of time.”

  Vestara raised a brown eyebrow. “That is quite the feat,” she said. “These Hutts sound like very clever beings.”

  “Clever? Some of them are, yes,” Luke agreed. “But most of them are not anyone I’d care to get to know well. Because of this treaty, the Klatooinians are forced to part with most of their younglings after they reach a certain age. Well-behaved younglings are given good assignments on other worlds, or even permitted to stay with their families on their homeworld. Disruptive youths receive harsher assignments. Basically, the not-nice word for it is slavery.”

  “Assignments based on merit,” Vestara said slowly. “I see.”

  “No, not based on merit,” Luke corrected a touch sharply. “Based on obeisance. That’s not the same thing at all.”

  “The Hutts were weakened after the Yuuzhan Vong war,” Ben said. “They can’t possibly enforce this everywhere. Why do the Klatooinians continue to put up with it?”

  “They are an honorable people, and the treaty is respected,” Luke said. “Where they serve the Hutts, they are loyal and dependable. There are a few pockets of discontent here and there, but as a whole, they will not rise up against this servitude until and unless the Hutts do something to violate it. Certainly, their government would never do such a thing.”

  “But from what you have said, the Hutts are not a stupid species, and they have the advantage here,” Vestara said. “So it would be foolish of them to do anything to damage it. They possibly stand to lose much and gain little.”

  “What was their end of the treaty? Just being gods?” Ben asked.

  Luke held up his hand. “Hold on to that thought.” He flicked open a channel. “This is the Jade Shadow out of Coruscant, requesting permission to land,” he said, speaking clearly.

  “Jade Shadow, this is Docking Control Agent Barada K’lar, operating out of the capital city of Treema. What is the purpose of your visit here?” The voice was gruff and deep, though the speaker’s Basic was completely intelligible.

  “We wish to restock our vessel with supplies, and to respectfully visit your beautiful Fountain.”

  Ben frowned. He caught his father’s eye and mouthed, Fountain?

  “Ah,” and the voice became much friendlier. And suddenly Ben grinned, clearly now understanding why his father had mentioned it. “The Fountain of the Hutt Ancients. All are more than welcome to behold it. Are you familiar with the rules?”

  “It’s my understanding that we are not to approach within one kilometer wearing, bearing, or being trans
ported by any contemporary technology,” Luke said.

  “The Fountain of the Hutt Ancients is out of time,” Barada agreed. “We therefore do not sully it by bringing in reminders of the era in which we dwell. Dress simply, leave all technology behind, approach on foot, and you will see one of the marvels of the galaxy. There is a curfew enforced, one standard hour after nightfall. You must be either in your vessel in an established port or within legal boundaries of any city or town you are visiting. The Fountain is in the Derelkoos Desert, many kilometers away from our capital city of Treema. Please plan your visit accordingly so that you have sufficient time to return to your vessel or your lodging. Jade Shadow cleared for docking. You may negotiate your hangar with the Dockmaster upon arrival.”

  “Thank you. Jade Shadow out.” Luke closed the channel.

  “Nice way to get on his good side, Dad,” Ben said. “But … Fountain of the Hutt Ancients? This isn’t a Hutt native world, it’s a Hutt-conquered world.”

  “Apparently, the name is a new thing,” Luke said. “In the database it’s just called the Fountain of the Ancients. It’s a natural formation located, as Barada said, in the Derelkoos Desert. It’s supposed to be quite beautiful—tourists come from all over the galaxy to see it.”

  “Will we have the chance to see it?” Vestara asked.

  “I think you’ll be too busy getting us supplies to play tourist,” Luke said.

  “You’re not coming with us?” Ben asked.

  Luke was annoyed at how pleased Ben sounded at getting to wander around unchaperoned with Vestara. The two young people exchanged glances that were clearly not meant to be interpreted as happy and equally clearly were precisely that. And he was irritated with himself that he was annoyed.

  “I’ll be sending Dyon Stad along, too. But I think I have a few things to discuss with my new allies. Besides,” and Luke permitted himself a small smile, “I grew up on Tatooine. I think I’ve emptied enough sand out of my boots to last a lifetime.”

  ABOARD THE JADE SHADOW

  LUKE HAD NOT INTENDED TO SLEEP LONG, BUT HE WAS WEARY FROM the time on Dathomir and a short rest would refresh him more than simple meditation. Having sent Dyon off with the two teenagers to gather supplies, he felt, for the moment, that it was safe for him to grab a nap.

  He had not told Ben, but he had opted not to remove Mara’s things from this cabin that they had shared. It was Mara Jade’s ship; it somehow seemed right that her personal effects stay for the duration of this unsought but vital journey that her husband and her son were embarking upon.

  So it was that her clothes still hung in the closet, and from time to time Luke would go in there to dress, hesitate, then reach and touch a jacket or tunic or dress she had once worn, remembering when he had last seen it adorning her lithe, graceful body.

  He murmured her name in his sleep, and turned over.

  In his dream, he opened his eyes and looked out at the stars streaking past. And he felt the press of a warm, living, female body against his back. He did not dare to breathe, did not dare to move, to turn over and take his wife in his arms and kiss her fiercely, whispering what a terrible nightmare that was, love. I dreamed I lost you.

  And she would laugh softly and whisper back, You’ve got too lively an imagination, farm boy. Come here and I’ll show you how real I am.

  He knew it was a dream, and yet it seemed so real. He could hear a soft sigh, the rustling of the sheets as she nestled closer to him. But something was not quite right. It wasn’t Mara. It couldn’t be. She was dead, killed by Jacen Solo.

  I’ll show you how real I am.

  “I am real,” the faint whisper came from behind him.

  And Luke Skywalker, desperate to believe it, flung himself on his other side, reaching out to take her into his arms—

  Nothing.

  He blinked, knowing he was awake, even though everything seemed as if he had been awake a few moments earlier, though of course he couldn’t have been.

  He realized he was shaking and that tears stood in his eyes. This surprised him. He had not wept for Mara in a very long time, not even when he had been able to see her … ghost? … in the Lake of Apparitions inside the Maw. Why, then, did he feel so raw, as if the wound had been made only a few days ago instead of two years? He was at peace with her passing, he knew it. And yet …

  He reached out a hand and smoothed the pillow, cool to his touch, not warm as it would have been had a living woman lain upon it seconds earlier. With a sigh Luke rolled over on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

  It was the ship, he decided. And the recent vision he had been granted of his beloved, late wife. He suspected Ben felt it, too. The Jade Shadow was a part of Mara, a part that held them, kept them safe, and took them on their journey to, he hoped, find answers that would help heal the mentally wounded Jedi Knights.

  And determine what exactly had happened to Mara’s killer, Jacen Solo.

  Too, another female presence was aboard the ship—Vestara Khai, Sith apprentice. And Luke was not so old that he couldn’t see the first hints of a budding romance when it was happening right under his nose. Ben would deny it, of course, but Luke had seen how his son’s gaze followed the young woman, how he found excuses to be in her presence. It concerned him, and he knew it would concern Mara.

  It was no wonder he felt her strongly.

  But still.

  Even the brief, dream-heavy sleep had refreshed him. He had wanted that, wanted to feel more rested and alert, before he talked to High Lord Sarasu Taalon again.

  ABOARD THE BLACK WAVE

  “Ah, Master Skywalker,” Sarasu Taalon said. He leaned back in his command chair and smiled. It was an elegant, if predatory smile, for Taalon’s pale purple face was ideally proportioned. His features were sharp but strong, epitomizing masculine beauty. The tone of his skin was considered particularly attractive among the Keshiri and humans as well, even, with no unsightly irregular pigmentation. His strong hands, fingers steepled in front of him at the moment, showed calluses from years of using weapons, but had no disfiguring marks such as scars or misshapen fingers, which indicated that from a young age he usually won what sparring he engaged in. He kept his dark purple hair short, a departure from current fashion, but one he found convenient. Taalon’s eyes were large, expressive, and missed nothing as he gazed at the small holographic image of Grand Master Luke Skywalker, the hated enemy with whom he was currently allied.

  “Any further word from your friend?”

  Luke Skywalker smiled back with what was easily discernible as forced courtesy. “Yes, as a matter of fact. He reports that he is on schedule to join us within ten to twelve days.”

  “Pity he cannot work faster to update this … tug?” Taalon did not sneer, not quite.

  “You’ll have no reason to regret the delay, I assure you. Lando’s work is excellent. And since you’ve not navigated the Maw, you don’t appreciate quite yet how useful it will be to us.”

  Taalon gritted his teeth, both at the delay and the utterly unsubtle jibe. He already had reason to regret having to spend more than five minutes in orbit of the planet turning slowly beneath the vessel. Taalon, like most of the Sith Tribe, burned with ambition and chafed at anything that stood in his way. He had no interest in wasting time orbiting a backwater world. Or back sand world, as a cursory glance at the information on Klatooine had revealed. Brown and yellow and ugly.

  “Well, then. Let us hope the vessel proves as useful as you say it will,” he said, pouring sincerity into the Force to mask his irritation. “I am anxious to take the fight to Abeloth.”

  “It is my hope that it will not be a fight,” said Luke. “Like I said earlier, the goal is not to destroy her, it’s to try to understand her and reason with her. Make her understand what she is doing, if possible. She’s an alarming being, that much is certain, but I’ll need more time to assess the situation before I’m willing to fight her.”

  Taalon deftly covered his annoyance and forced himself to smile in
an indulgent manner, stretching his lips thinly across even white teeth. “Of course, but remember, she is damaging our younglings. She must release them.”

  “Of course,” Luke said, “but killing a sentient being should always be a last resort. Also, her death might mean our young Jedi and your apprentices would never be released. We have far too little information on her nature to know exactly what is going on.”

  “You raise a good point,” Taalon agreed. “Is there anything further?” Taalon intensely disliked Luke Skywalker. He itched to blast the Jedi with Force lightning, to choke him, to cleave him in two with his lightsaber. With a little luck, and the blessings of the dark side, he would have the opportunity to indulge his desire once Abeloth had been forced to cooperate with the Sith. He allowed himself to fantasize briefly about the moment.

  “No, nothing more. Will you be visiting the surface?”

  “Doubtful,” said Taalon. He did not elaborate.

  “Me neither. I’m not very fond of sand. Jade Shadow out.”

  “Captain?” It was Leeha Faal, his second in command, a slender female and fellow Keshiri who stood rigidly at attention. Following her commander’s example, she, too, had cut her hair short. Soft bangs, however, fell over her high forehead.

  “Yes, what is it?”

  “We have been researching Klatooine, and—”

  “There cannot possibly be anything remotely interesting in that ball of dirt,” Taalon snapped.

  “Well, sir … there is one thing you might want to see. With your permission?” She indicated the computer. He regarded her for a moment. This had better be good, otherwise her impertinence would not be overlooked.

  “Go ahead, impress me,” he said.

  She didn’t flinch, but her resolution in the Force wavered, just for an instant. Then she leaned over him and tapped in something.

  What appeared on the screen was a vision of beauty. It looked like a geyser at the moment of eruption, captured forever in time, each finger of water, each splash, each droplet, frozen so that one could admire its power and grace. Swirling, turning, it was vibrant, creative motion somehow paused, and Taalon’s heart leapt. Like all the Sith Tribe, he put a great value on beauty, whether it be in the lines of a being’s face, the drape of a handmade garment, or the curve of a shikkar handle.