PART FIVE

ASSASSIN

PART ONE

The Fall of Kyp Durron

"You have to leave, Kyp."

"But Master Skywalker, why?"

Luke Skywalker sighed and looked wearily at Kyp. "Why? Kyp, you should know that your actions concerning Qwi Xux were abominable for a Jedi." He shifted in his seat and continued, "You must leave here and never return."

Kyp sat before his teacher in open-mouthed astonishment. "But Master Skywalker, I atoned for my actions and even Qwi has forgiven me. Why must I leave?"

The first of the new Jedi began to get a little exasperated. He snapped, "Because you reneged on a deal, and that's dishonorable! If you weren't going to finish your little side venture for the Empire, you shouldn't have spent the credits they paid you after you had 'atoned'!" Taking a deep breath, the Jedi Master ran through a veritable plethora of mind calming techniques. In response to Mara's telepathic query, Luke sent a soothing, calming thought back to her to let her know that he wasn't going to kill Kyp.

*Yet*, she sent back wryly.

Luke smiled a quiet little smile and continued, "Kyp, everything you did while under Exar Kun's thrall has been forgiven, but business is business. You have the options of finishing the task for them, killing yourself, or paying the Empire back. Frankly, I don't think you can pay the money back, you can't kill Qwi because then I would have to kill you. So, you can kill yourself and move on into the Force, let someone else do the job for you, or leave."

Kyp gaped. His eyes bugged and his mouthed moved like a Mon Cal lying in Tatooine's Dune Sea, quietly desiccating under the twin suns of the planet. Open, shut. Open, shut. Finally, he closed his mouth and set it in a firm line. "I will not kill myself and I will not allow someone else to do the job for me. If I don't finish the job, the Imps will hunt me down and kill me. At least if I do it I can always try to atone again. Every other way ends in death.”

Luke frowned and said, "Kyp, that way ends with your death also. It would pain me to do so, but I will kill you if you kill Qwi. Don't forget that."

Kyp's head drooped wearily as he ran his fingers through his long hair. "Well, I guess I'll just have to take my chances with the Empire's tender mercies, such as they are."

Luke Skywalker nodded his head in pleased satisfaction. He reached out and placed his hand on Kyp's shoulder "You've made a wise and difficult choice Kyp. You truly have returned to the side of the Light. You may stay here and we will help to protect you as best we can."

Kyp Durron raised his head and shook it with resigned negativity. "No, Master Skywalker. I cannot stay. It would be too dangerous for the Praxeum and would only draw the Empire’s attention here to all of you. No. I must leave."

With that, Kyp Durron got up and left the study of the Academy's Master. The Jedi Master sighed and sat heavily into his repulsor chair. Behind him, the private door to his meditation chamber slid silently open and a lithe form fluidly glided into the room. She walked up from behind him and placed both of her hands on his shoulders and began to knead them strongly.

"That feels great," he murmured, finally beginning to relax under her ministrations. He thought back to the forest on Myrkr where those same hands were trembling with the desire to kill him. What a strange galaxy we live in, he thought.

Mara Jade tossed her red-gold hair around to the other side of her face. She thought back to the forest on Myrkr when she had stared down at her hands, holding his lightsaber, and fighting with the desire to kill the man she now loved. What a strange galaxy we live in, she thought.

Mara pursed her full lips and asked, "Do you still think there's hope for him?" Beneath her hands, she felt the change in the muscles under his tunic. Reaching out with her own Jedi senses she felt the ripples in the Force as he tried to sense into the future. She relaxed her grip and tried to reach out on her own. A myriad of scenes and visions assaulted her senses, causing her to gasp and reel in shock. Most of the scenes she saw were from her past. She saw herself dancing in Jabba's palace, her attempt to kill Thrawn, and her fight with the mad Jedi clone Joruus C'baoth. One, however, struck her with incredible force, driving her mind into a whirl of emotions and sensations. It left her cold and burning, numb and tingling, awash in the contradictions of her own feelings. In her vision she saw Kyp Durron, Qwi Xux, Admiral Daala, and Luke's former lover, Callista all standing before her. She saw herself in the vision, herself yet not herself, grinning with a dark evil as she struck down each of the vision people with a hatred that left her stunned and breathless.

"Mara! Mara," Luke said, urgently trying to get her to respond. Just as he began to use a Jedi healing method, she opened her eyes, smiling weakly.

"What happened?" she asked once she was able to concentrate and think clearly. She sat up and immediately regretted it as the world around her began to weave from side to side. Her voice sounded thick and slurred to her, as if coming through partially cooled gelatin. "What happened?" she repeated, blinking owlishly around the room.

"You cried out and fell to the floor," Luke replied. "I called Streen in to help me lift you from the floor to the bed in the meditation chamber."

For the first time, Mara realized she was no longer in the outer office of Luke's quarters and that Streen was indeed there, looking at her rather concernedly. She also noticed, very much to her surprise, that the sun was almost below the top of the Yavin moons forest.

"Are you all right, Mistress Jade?" Streen asked. He made an ill concealed but admirable attempt to keep the worry out of his voice. "Shall I get you some caf or some of Master Luke's hot chocolate?"

Mara winced as she thought of the drink that Luke so highly regarded. She wondered to herself if it was the sweetness of the drink or the fact that it came from Lando Calrissian that made her dislike it so...

"Actually, Streen, some Whyren's Reserve would be more to my liking at this point," she muttered. "How long was I out?" she asked, rubbing her temples and making a second, successful this time, attempt to sit up and look around.

Luke stroked her hair and told her, "About two and a half hours, I guess. I came out of my trance when you shouted and found you slumped behind my chair. You felt so cold..."

Mara knew that Luke meant her presence in the Force and shivered, remembering the hatred and violence from her vision. She looked up into his concerned eyes and smiled reassuringly. "I'll be fine, Luke. If I took everything C'baoth had to throw at us and made it here then it will take more than some vision to vape me."

Luke's eyes narrowed at that, and for a brief moment it looked as though he were about to ask her about it. She glanced over at Streen and narrowly shook her head, sending him the thought of, *Later*

A grimace and an arched eyebrow later, Luke acquiesced. "I have to go and examine the newest arrivals," he said, rather archly. "I'll check in on you when I can break free."

Mara smiled and sent him a soft, soothing thought. His visage noticeably softened. He knew how hard it was still for her do some things softly, much less tenderly. Her road had been a hard one, and together they were breaking down some of those old barriers. He had learned very early on that she neither wanted nor needed pity, and that her hardness was a strength she had allowed to callous her feelings instead of tempering them. Most importantly, he knew what even that small bit of giving in her feelings must have cost her. He relaxed fully and said, "Good. If you feel up to it, come join us in the 'testing room' in the forest," he offered. "There are a few good prospects in this group. One of them is Chewbacca's niece from Kashyyyk."

Surprise crossed Mara's face as she heard this. "Another Wookiee?" she queried.

Luke laughed as he walked out of the chamber. "Why are you surprised?" He chuckled. "Nobody questions when two to three out of ten potential Jedi are human," he teased.

She followed him out, cursing his gentle rebuke. "That's not what I meant and you know it. Aren't Wookiees a little too... 'temperamental' most of the time for Jedi training?"

"Usually. I've begun to notice that our other Wookiee pupil is rather more even tempered than the average Wookiee. Perhaps this one will be the same."

Knowing their newest pupils' famous uncles' temper, she was slightly skeptical about that. However, she kept her misgivings to herself and she kissed Luke good-bye. She declined meeting the new arrivals, claiming that she was still a little unsteady on her feet, which was true enough. Instead, she turned and went back into the meditation chamber and began exercising her Jedi calming techniques. She had much to meditate upon.

***

Cold. Cold and shivering were her first sensations.

As she began to absorb more and more stimuli, she noticed that she was analyzing the sensations and making decisions about them. She opened her eyes, blinking against the brightness and harsh glare of the overhead glow rods. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she looked around and immediately noticed she was without clothing. She knew she had to find some and immediately began to cast about her room.

Her room? How did she know that? How did she know that she needed clothes? As she dressed in the robe lying next to her she pondered these and other questions. As she pondered, she realized that many of her answers should be in the computer on the desk.

Going to the computer, she found the power switch and activated it. Speaking softly and without hesitation, she entered the correct password at the terminal’s prompting. She reached next to the terminal and picked up the towel that was resting there, not once questioning the particulars of how it came to be there when she needed it. She began to towel off her red-gold hair as she read the scan-docs on the screen. It was all so clear now. She had life now, and that life was hers to accomplish a mission. She must prepare.

Standing up from the terminal, she let the robe fall away from her lithe, graceful body. Going to the wardrobe, she selected a body hugging flight suit and the military style boots sequestered in there. Donning them, she noticed an arm holster and hold out blaster lying on the floor where the boots had been. Putting them on with the outfit, she marveled that they fit her perfectly. Next to the holstered weapon on the floor was a silvery metal cylinder, shining in the dim light of the room with a cold but alluring gleam. A lightsaber!

How perfect, she thought. Picking up the weapon, she went back to the terminal and continued reading. As she did, numerous memories began to surface in her mind. A wicked grin spread across her face as she read the last entries. She memorized the codes at the bottom of the screen and shut down the computer.

Sitting in front of the terminal, her piercing green eyes sparkled as she began to braid her hair. She mentally ran through the names on the list the terminal had revealed to her. Finally finished with her hair, she looked at herself in the mirror and smiled.

Dressed to kill, she thought to herself.

She laughed.

***

Cold rain fell outside in the night of Ord Mantell, matching the mood of the person sitting in the back booth. Smoke from tabacc drifted in the thick, humid air, further adding to the murkiness in the mind and soul of that sullen drinker.

Kyp Durron sat in the cantina, nursing his third Durindfire of the last five minutes and brooding over the most recent events of his life.

"How DARE he throw me out," he muttered. "I'll show him. I'll handle the those damned Imps and then the whole problem will be solved." In his drunken state it never occurred to him that he had willingly left the Praxeum, nor did he care. As he raised the drink to his lips a shadow fell across the table, blocking out the light and throwing shadow across the face of the person leaning across it.

"Is this seat taken?"

"Mara! How did you find me? What in space are you doing here, anyway? Did our great and all-knowing master send you?"

"Actually, no, he didn't. I came on my own. There's something we need to talk about and we can't talk here. Is there somewhere we can go and--talk?" As she spoke, she reached out and lightly stroked his forearm.

Kyp frowned, a puzzled look crossing his befuddled face. "About what? And why the sudden interest in me and my welfare?" He pinned her with a wary gaze as he arrogantly tossed his drink back.

"Oh, let’s just say I finally opened my eyes to your natural charm. I'm getting tired of Luke. All he does is meditate, meditate, meditate, all day long. He never spends time with me. I've seen the way that you look at me when he's not looking. Come on, admit it. You want me and have since day one," she purred, lightly snaking her pink tongue across her top lip. "Come on, let’s go." She grabbed his hand and pulled him out of his seat, dragging him towards the door of the tapcafe. "I know a great place where we can get a little better acquainted."

Kyp tried resisting at first, then finally gave up as she pulled him out of the booth and towards the door. He attempted to detoxify the alcohol from his system, but just could not seem to get it right.

"I must have had more to drink than I thought," he muttered. "Where are we going?"

"Oh, just around the corner to a little place I know."

"Mara, I don't know about this," he said, beginning to get more than a little concerned as he saw where she was bringing him.

Her eyes followed his to the run down spaceport accommodations looming ahead of them. They had obviously seen better days and those days were undoubtedly several years before the fall of the Old Republic. Well, maybe several centuries.

"I promise they aren't as bad on the inside as the outside looks," she assured him. "I stayed here more times than I can count during the Emperor's reign. The owner is a friend of mine."

Kyp frowned and shook his head as if trying to clear the cobwebs that seemed to be exponentially multiplying in his brain. He made several attempts to say something but kept forgetting and restarting himself. Finally he got it out, slurring the words and drooling on himself.

"Not that. I meant ush," he blurted. "Wha' if 'The Great Jhedi Mashter' findsh out an'..."

"He won't," she spat with just a little too much vehemence and venom, sending a brief feeling of uneasiness over Kyp.

Kyp tried to pull away from her but she caught his hands and began to speak soothingly to him, whispering tender apologies and sweet promises to his ego, stroking its bruises and easing its worries. She led him into the unit farthest down the row, looking out and around before shutting the door with a wicked grin.

The unit smelled of alien odors mingled with human sweat. Moisture oozed down the transparisteel viewports and gathered into small lakes at the base of the sashes. The walls bore stains from years of tabacc buildup, yellowed and streaked, marbled with the smoke from decades of weary travelers. She led him down the hall and into the small bedroom at the end. While cleaner and fresher smelling, the furnishings were very sparse. A beaten and dilapidated bureau occupied the far left corner of the room and a freshly turned down bed squatted expectantly in the center of the room. From the far right corner of the small room a glaring light shone from the open refresher as a steady "drip-drip-drip" came from the opening, tapping a slow tattoo into the hard skin of the basin. A single bare glow beam hung from exposed wiring in the center of the room, daring any one and anything to try to hide from its revealing brightness.

Mara pushed Kyp back onto the bed and smiled down at him, all the while whispering soft delights into the fetid air. She slid out of her jumpsuit and smirked at his goggle-eyed perusal of her. She leaned forward and took his face into her hands...

Kyp awakened and tried to look around the room. He found that he could not. The glow beam overhead still shone down accusingly upon him, but he was unable to see anything else until a shadow leaned over him and he recognized the face of Mara Jade. He tried to frown at something that just didn't seem right to him, but the thought fled from his consciousness nearly as fast as it had appeared. Drowsily, he gave up and slept.

Kyp woke up and found that he still could not look around. Fear and hopelessness welled up in his soul as he fruitlessly tried willing himself to move. His face itched horribly and so did several other very delicate areas of his body. He became aware of the stench of human offal and realized with horror that it was coming from his own body. His mind screamed at his body to move, willing it to get up, get up, please get up....

She looked down upon the fallen Jedi and smiled her private satisfaction. The sweetblossom she had paid the bartender to put in his drink at the cantina had made it possible for her to get Durron to his execution spot with ease. Once she arrived at the monoplex she had leased, it was child's play to lead Kyp on and let him think he was about to get very lucky.

Well, the luck was all bad.

It was so easy to distract him by stripping, (Oh, how she had laughed at the look on his face!), she placed him into a paralyzation trance. She then initiated an IAU into his subclavian vein and set up the IV drip of dextrose and sweetblossom, setting it at a very slow rate of about lOOcc an hour. The IAU line snaked to a tank of fluid that held approximately 500 liters of her witches brew. Also connected to the setup was a fusion generator that would supply power to the IAU pump long after its internal battery had ceased to work. All that remained was to pay the remainder of the lease for the rest of the year.

Once the IV sweetblossom was well into his system she released the trance and leaned over him so he could get a good look at his executioner. He didn't realize his situation at the time, but at some point in the next few months, before he died, he would. He just wouldn't be able to scream.

PART TWO

A Qwi Essence

As she scanned the textdoc she pondered the meaning contained therein. She pursed her thin, delicate lips as she tapped the table top with her fragile fingers. With a short, sharp blast of air she blew her feathery hair out of her eyes.

Qwi Xux checked the signature down at the bottom of the doc and confirmed for the twelfth time that it was Wedge's.

Why would he change our plans at the last minute like this, she inquired of herself. It was not like the Commander of Rogue Squadron to go back on his word, especially to his fiancee. Yet there it was for her to read in black and white on the flimsyplast sheet:

"Qwi, I will be unable to take you out for our anniversary as I had originally planned. Admiral Ackbar has put some extra unit reports on my desk and I have to get them done. I will call you later. Wedge."

Cursing his sense of duty and at the same time berating herself for doing so, she petulantly flung the datapad across the apartment they shared. She stormed into their bedroom and proceeded to pace and fume at the sheer injustice of it all. She was startled from her reverie by a light rapping at the door of the apartment.

"Come," she called and made an attempt to gather her wits about her. "Maybe Wedge told the Admiral he would do it later," she thought. The door opened and admitted her caller as she stepped into the living area. She stopped and stared in open mouthed surprise at the lithe, graceful figure that glided into the room.

"Mara! You're not Wedge! Wait...why are you here on Coruscant?"

Mara Jade tossed her flaming red-gold mane out of her eyes and sat on the repulsor couch with feline eIan, crossing her shapely legs and leaning into the cushions with a satisfied sigh. She fixed the humanoid with a pointed gaze and an arched eyebrow and dryly said, "Hello to you too, Qwi. Why yes, I would love to sit down, thank you. And how are you?"

Qwi's brow furrowed as she blushed and began to immediately stutter an apology. "I'm so sorry, Mara. I don't know where my mind is. I just wasn’t expecting to see you of all people here on Coruscant. In fact, I really don't know what I was thinking."

"Apparently you were thinking of Commander Antilles. I was looking for him but I take it he's not here."

Qwi sat down in the chair opposite Mara and sucked on her bottom lip, looking as if she was about to cry, which she was.

"Well, he is supposed to be here," she said petulantly. "Today is our anniversary and we had plans, but the almighty New Republic Navy called and he ran to do its bidding."

Mara regarded Qwi sadly and said, "Tough break, kid. I tell you what. While the Jade's Fire is down for some repairs, why don't you let me show you around? I think I might be able to find you some sites AND sights you haven't seen before."

Qwi looked startled. Was this actually Mara Jade talking to her that way?

"What kind of sights did you have in mind? I don't think Wedge would like it if I went anywhere dangerous."

Mara gaped at her in slack jawed amazement. "Qwi, he just stood you up on your anniversary! To blazes with what he thinks and to blazes with him!,” she spat.

Qwi recoiled from her vehemence and sat there blinking in owlish confusion. "I don't know, Mara. Do you really think I should?"

"Do I? Go find something sexy to wear and be ready to go in 30 minutes. I'm going to change. We're going to have a girl’s night out on the town and to hell with Wedge Antilles and his New Republic Navy." She stood with her usual sensuous fluidity and approached the door. At the door she stopped and tossed over her shoulder, "Consider this, Qwi. Just maybe this will shake him enough to get his priorities straight. As far as I'm concerned, right now he's totally backwards."

Qwi pensively stared at Mara's back as she went through the door. Just before she rounded the frame and went out of sight, she called out to her, "Mara, what if he gets mad at you?"

Mara stopped and leaned back around the frame with a huge grin on her face. "After facing off with the Emperor, Grand Admiral Thrawn, an insane Dark Jedi Master, and Luke Skywalker, do you really think I give a flying ranat's ass if Wedge Antilles gets mad at me?"

Qwi could hear her laughing long after the door slid shut behind her. She walked into the bedroom and began rooting through the closet for "something sexy" to wear. She selected the powdery blue off the shoulder gown that very nearly matched her skins' color and texture. As she gazed at the dress that she had planned to wear that evening, she sat on the edge of the bed with tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "But Mara, what if he gets mad at me?"

Softly, she cried.

***

"Oh, my...," Qwi gasped. She was staring in stunned amazement at the micro-mini dress that Mara Jade was very nearly not wearing. Mara spun slowly in place so Qwi could get a good look.

"Well, what do you think?" She purred.

The dress stopped just past the swell of her buttocks and fit her as if sprayed onto her curvaceous body. The back of the dress, if you could call it that, scooped to just above the swell of her buttocks. The strings holding the front in place were nearly non-existent threads that climbed up and around her sculpted neck to tie neatly beneath her wildly teased red-gold tresses. Strategically placed panels of sheer cloth accented the dress and hinted that the best was yet to come from this young woman. It gave her a very predatory look that Qwi thought suited Mara very well. Sensuous, alluring, and "in your face", it fairly screamed "Mara Jade."

"Mara, when you said to find something sexy I had no idea..." she stammered. She looked down at her dress and it paled at the sight of the other's outfit and body.

Mara grinned wickedly and said, "Come on. Let's go look in your closet and find something a little more, ah, revealing."

"Mara, I don't have anything that even comes close to that! Besides, Wedge would go berserk if he found out I went out in something even close to what you're wearing," she choked out.

"Oh, he'll find out something dear. I brought a holocam from the ship to take a holo of us to leave for him. Just so he'll know what he missed." Mara produced a tiny holocamera from somewhere out of sight and Qwi stared in amazement. Where did she have *that* at, she marveled.

Qwi sat down and folded her hands in her lap. She lowered her head to stare at them and said, "I still don't have anything to wear even remotely similar to that."

Mara grinned even more wickedly and chirped, "Must I think of everything?" She strutted back out into the hallway and produced a package with silvery wrapping and a big red bow. "Happy anniversary, Qwi! Now, go get dressed!"

***

Qwi stood before the mirror and stared at the duplicate of herself wearing that scandalous dress. Similar in cut to Mara's, it was a few inches longer (Thank you, Mara, she thought) and less clingy. However, it did have the interesting feature in that it molded itself to her figure, accenting curves she didn't know she had. It also had long sleeves and a high neck that was open in the front of her throat. Whereas Mara's outfit was blacker than Palpatine's heart, hers was blinding white.

"Hey, aren't you ready yet?”

Startled from her thoughts, Qwi jumped at the sound of Mara's voice at the bedroom door and turned to address her, blushing all the while. "Yes! Thank you, Mara. It's gorgeous!"

“Hold still and let me get a shot of you for Wedge. We'll leave it for him to find on the pillow."

"Oh, Mara, get into the picture too! You look too good to not be seen."

Mara lowered the camera after she took the holo of Qwi and chuckled, "Dear, I'm going to be seen quite a bit tonight. Don't you worry about that."

Mara set the camera down and went to stand by Qwi and posed with her. Putting on her most sultry look she pouted at the camera and showed as much leg as she could. SNAP! The camera reset itself as Mara walked over to it and popped out both holos and set them on the pillow. As she stood erect from her crouch, she saw Qwi walk into the refresher. "Be right out," she called.

"Take your time," Mara softly said. Working quickly, she deleted the holos that she had taken, first ensuring that the originals were still in the camera's memory. Then, she accessed the note that Qwi had left for Wedge in the datapad and erased it. In its place, she left one of her own. She had no need to sign it. Qwi already had.

***

Wedge walked into the apartment with the Ithorian flowers hidden behind his back, only scant minutes after the two women had left. He looked all through the space of their home, calling her name and smiling in anticipation. This was a special day. After all, anniversaries only came once a year.

"Qwi! Qwi, where are you? Happy anniversary!" he cried as he jumped through the door of their bedroom. When he didn't find her in the bedroom he became even more puzzled and perplexed. Then he saw the datapad on the pillow. The message light was blinking steadily, a baleful red eye flashing its prophecy that there was a message waiting.

Wedge accessed the message with his and Qwi's passcode and began to read,

"Dear Wedge,

I know that today is our anniversary so I have something special planned. I've booked passage for us on the Core Princess. Don't bother packing. I've taken care of all of our arrangements. Go to the star port and get on board, sailor. I'll be waiting for you."

Qwi

Wedge smiled and whooped his joy, running to and out of his apartment's door, thinking happy thoughts and looking forward to his cruise. Qwi usually did think of everything...

***

For the next several hours Qwi Xux's head spun as she moved through a whirlwind of sights and sounds. Her escort took her to nightclubs she didn't know existed and wouldn't have gone into if she had known.

What she did know was that everywhere they went she and her accomplice were the center of attention. It felt good to her and she found all of the attention very flattering. Even more amazing to her, she completely forgot Commander Antilles and didn't think about him until Jade mentioned him much later in the evening, long after she had become completely ripped.

"How apropos," thought Maara. "Ripped now and ripped later." She chuckled to herself, darkly smiling.

Qwi saw the look and thought it odd. “Mara, what’s up?” she asked, her skin crawling up her spine at the sight of the other woman giggling.

Maara took another sip from her drink and smiled brightly. "Oh, nothing. Just thinking about Wedge's face when he sees the holos of you that we took."

Qwi paled at that. "Oh, space," she muttered. "I completely forgot about Wedge. I've got to get back."

She stood up from her seat at the bar and promptly fell right down to a seated position on the floor. She groped rather unsuccessfully for her stool in an attempt to use it to help her achieve a standing position. Maara shook her head and grimaced at her inebriated companion. Reaching down, she helped her up and walked her to the closest public transport and keyed in the code for the apartment.

As they stood waiting for the transport to arrive, Maara noticed several tough looking aliens approaching, all of them standing easily over two meters. The three of them wore identical bantha hide jackets that were sporting durasteel chains and metal studs, glittering in the glare of the streetlights and flashing dangerously. The one in the front, the apparent leader, swaggered up to Qwi and cupped her chin in his filthy hand and said, "Well, well, well. What have we here? Are you little girls lost?"

The other two toughs walked up behind Maara and each grabbed an arm, pinning her between the two of them. The leader leaned over and licked the side of Qwi's face, his breath foul and fetid. Qwi stared at him in horror, anger and revulsion. Without thinking, she promptly did the first thing she could react with.

She vomited on him.

The leader growled in fury and jerked her to stare into his face, his visage twisted in rage. “You BITCH,” he snarled. As the leader pulled his arm back to slap her, Maara snatched the distraction that Qwi's vomiting offered to augment her natural strength and speed. With her Jedi training and the skills that clone flash teaching had honed, Maara threw both punks several yards away. She then summoned her lightsaber from where it was levitating over their heads, where it had been all night, high and out of sight. The blade snap-hissed into life and the punks were immediately giving her their complete and undivided attention. She lowered the pitch of her voice and raised the volume using Jedi techniques, giving her a menacing growl.

"I'll say this once, very simply," she hissed. "Leave now or die."

Dark wet stains spread across the fronts of their dirty trousers as they turned and fled in sheer, complete terror.

Qwi fainted.

***

Qwi woke to the hum of a vibroblade thrumming in her left ear.

She twisted her head to the left and tried to pull away, but she found that she could not. She could only look at the thrumming blade in Maara's hand and scream. As she drew in the breath to do so, a vise began to squeeze her throat with invisible talons. Terror gripped her heart and she fainted for the second time that night.

Some time later, a painful shock brought her to full wakefulness, gasping for breath and trying to lurch wildly off the bed. When this didn't work, she looked up at her hands and then down at her feet. Syntherope held all four of her extremities securely to the bed. When she looked down her left side and towards her feet, she saw that Maara was sitting in the chair at the foot of the bed. She appeared to be contemplating her, much as a Hutt would contemplate his next choice of entrees. She had shed her slinky dress, exchanging it for one of her no-nonsense jumpsuits instead. Even in her terror the thought crossed Qwi’s mind, Gods, she even looks good in that.

She drew in a breath to scream again, but Maara irritatedly waved her hand and it died in her throat, choked off by the same invisible grip as before.

"Enough of that," she snapped. "You've taken up too much of my time tonight as it is."

Qwi fearfully looked at the woman she assumed was Mara Jade and whined, "Why are you doing this, Mara? What have I done to you to deserve this?"

"First, I am not who you think I am. My name is Maara Jade and I am a clone. Secondly, you've done nothing to me to deserve what I am about to do to you. Lastly, I exist to kill the enemies of a person known to me only as ‘The Hand’, of which you are one. So, with no further ado, it's time to get busy."

Having said this, she snapped on the switch of the vibroblade and began to get up out of the chair. Qwi began to thrash and fight her restraints in a vain and mindless attempt to break free, breaking both of her wrists and both ankles in the process. Blood poured from the open fractures at all four sites, soaking the sheets of the bed and making a general mess.

Maara placed one exquisitely shaped hand on Qwi's forehead and sent her into a paralyzation trance much as she had done to Kyp Durron, allowing her to feel without movement. She then proceeded to filet Qwi's delicate blue skin from her thin, fragile bones. Humming the same frequency as the vibroblade, she mimicked the skinning methods used by the Trandoshan Wookiee hunters. When she finished, Maara took another holo of Qwi's ravaged body and placed it next to the one of Qwi she had taken before leaving. Maybe The Hand will pay a bonus for the extra pain I've caused, she thought.

"Qwi dear, great 'before' holo, terrible 'after'," Maara mused.

Almost negligently, she gestured over the butchered body and floated it into the refresher, placing it on the floor, dripping fluids all the way. After she set her down, she released the paralyzing trance and the hideous creature that was once the most brilliant scientist in the New Republic moaned hoarsely, offering up a ragged, hitching sob.

Maara grabbed Qwi's raw, bloody chin and turned it towards her. Looking into those tortured eyes she saw only madness there, a madness that just wasn't complete enough to free her from the burning, shredding talons of her pain. As Maara released her hold on Qwi's chin, she stood and reached into the hidden holster inside her jumpsuit and loosed the disruptor from its leash. Qwi slowly looked up, her insane, clouded eyes briefly clearing at the sight of the pistol. Trembling with exquisite pain, she reached out to the weapon; it was her release, her savior…her executioner.

Maara moved the weapon away from the stripped fingers that resembled nothing more than claws now. A low moan crept from her oozing lips, ending with one word, begging...

"Please..."

Maara raised the weapon and pointed it at her victim, squeezed the activation stud and ended her suffering.

For long minutes she stood there, placidly contemplating the smoking ashes on the floor before her. Eventually, with a deep breath and a sigh, she left the refresher and went back into the bedroom. She cast about to make certain that she didn't leave anything to incriminate either herself or the real Mara Jade. The real Mara Jade. It was certainly difficult thinking about things like this. What would happen to herself when her mission was complete? What if she made a mistake and the authorities caught her? What if the real Mara Jade hunted her down through the Force and tried to kill her? Would she actually be able to kill her "self"? Why did The Hand insist that they suffer so much before dying? None of her victims had requested creation any more than Maara did.

These thoughts and many more occupied Maara as the Vengeance made the jump into hyperspace, launching into the maelstrom of color and light and leaving the living to mourn the dead...

PART THREE

Daala
or
Nerfs Will Be Nerfs

NOTE: This account of the killing of former Imperial Admiral Daala appeared in the recovered journal of the clone Maara Jade, sometime after she ended her rampage and disappeared. Voren Na’al, New Republic Historian

Easy.

That was a good way to characterize Daala. She was easy for Tarkin, easy to predict, and equally easy to kill. It was sad that Vorn got in the way and had to die too, but that's just the way it works. Besides, I really considered it a mercy killing. He was a spineless worm and would have just wasted away without the love of his life. Also, you can only take so many chances with someone like Daala. I didn’t want to take another one, so it was either vape her when I did or miss her. She may be easy, but even a nerf is dangerous when cornered and panicked.

Hmmm. A rather apt comparison, I think.

What I did was this. I tracked her down to where she had set up house with Liegus Vorn, raising crops and nerfs on some third rate ag-world out near the rim. I had meticulously planned and re-planned the hit for several weeks. I know the The Hand wants everything done in spectacular fashion, but after killing Durron and Xux I was beginning to get a little tired. Besides, I still had to kill Skywalker’s old bitch and she would be the most difficult to find and terminate of them all.

After all of my careful planning, it was rather typical of my existence that sheer irony was what foiled my first attempt on her. While waiting along the roadside to remove her head with my BlasTech A-280, I realized that she and Vorn were raising the very animals she typified, nerfs!

Nerfs are brainless, witless, and will rut with the strongest member of the herd or any member of the herd.

Just like Daala.

I laughed so hard I dropped my 280 and missed when her speeder came by.

Oh well.

I backtracked to their farmhouse and found the location for my next attempt. It would be messy, but I was beyond caring. My little episode of un-professionalism on the roadside had irritated me to the point of bluntness. With all of my preparations in order, I set myself up for the long night ahead of me to wait for her return. My muscles ached and I was ready to get some sleep. Behind me, the distant twin suns were setting past the hills, going into hiding before they sprang from the opposite side of the world in the morning, like blazing predators looking to consume the unwary.

As I sat there musing, I began to reflect on the similarities and differences between my quarry and me. Logically, I conceded that she is just as much a product of the Dark Side as I am, but she is much too inept for me to allow her continued existence. She is a loose blaster that needs subduing; a problem, if you will.

Well, consider me the solution. Skies, she probably got her position with Tarkin due to her sleeping with him. I used to think that Tarkin was a great leader until I read all of the details concerning his dalliances with Daala. I can certainly understand a man of his position and power taking a mistress, especially one that's attractive. I must admit; this is another of our similarities. However, there is no reason to reward sexual favors with position or power when the recipient of those favors is in the position to do whatever he wants, including just "losing" the mistress. Blast it all into space, Tarkin was certainly ruthless enough!

So why promote a nerf to Admiral? Most importantly, why give it command of the most sensitive and dangerous project in the Empire? I will admit that the Maw Installation was very out of the way and virtually impossible to reach without Jedi skills or the proper navigational coordinates, but why her? I wonder if this was Tarkin's way of keeping her attentions and controlling her at the same time. She definitely wasn't competent enough for the command, in my opinion.

My opinion. This has been giving me cause for reflection on many occasions. How much of what I am is me and how much is my programming? How much of me is knowledge from my template and how much is from The Hand?

Somewhere in the midst of these ruminations I succumbed to the dark lullaby whispered by the night zephyrs.

My ears registered the high pitched whine of the approaching repulsor engines almost two seconds before the motion sensors activated. I rolled onto my stomach in the cool, morning dew and tried blinking the sleep from my weary eyes. The macrobinoculars were cold against the smoothness of my forehead and the stock of the A-280 was hard against my shoulder. Peering through the electronic eyepiece, I quickly searched for the package I had so carefully prepped last night. Where was?...Ah! There it was. This will be too easy.

"Come on my little nerf, come to Maara," I cooed into the morning mist, finger on the trigger and tensing more and more by the second. Daala was piloting the speeder as it eased into its regular berth in front of their quaint little farmhouse. Vorn walked out of the house to greet her as she parked the vehicle, killed the generator, and climbed out to return his greeting. I waited until their lips met and then fired.

The rifle twitched against my shoulder as the red bolt leapt from the end of the actuator and raced over the 275 meters between them and myself. Precisely half a second later it reached its' intended target and did its damage. The landspeeder ceased to exist. Vorn ceased to exist. Most importantly, Daala ceased to exist. Truthfully, everything for a tenth of a kilometer ceased to exist.

How did I get all of that from a rifle bolt? Oh, I guess I forgot to mention that my target was not Daala herself but the thermal detonator that I had placed the night before. This wasn't a stock charge, either. When that detonator went it had a blast sphere of just under 100 meters. Now you know why I popped her from so far away. You would've backed off, too!

Shouldering the rifle, I left my place of concealment and approached the smoldering crater that was all that remained of the worst Admiral in Galactic history.

Perfect. They were at ground zero. Mission accomplished.

As I walked away from my third kill, I began to contemplate my next step. How am I to destroy several trillion credits worth of the New Republics property?

I laughed. I wasn't yet sure how I was going to accomplish such a monumental task, but I was definitely sure that I was going to enjoy it.

PART FOUR

The Tale of the Why-Wings

It started innocently enough.

The reports began to trickle in rather slowly at first. They came in by ones and by twos, never more than that. It wasn't until it was over and the dust had settled did everything become clear.

This is how it happened...

Green Squadron was on a patrol training mission in the Mantooine system. The squadron was just completing their in-system swing when they picked up some unusual scanner readings. The sensors indicated several small ships were coming in from hyperspace and seemed to be on a direct course for the planet.

Following standard procedure, two ships peeled away from the formation to challenge the new arrivals. As they closed to what should have been visual range the pilots noticed that there didn't seem to be anything there.

Immediately, the squadron went to Red Alert. Green One, the leader, clicked his comm system over to an open hailing frequency and called out what was to eventually become one of the most infamous phrases of all time. Ironically enough, this phrase was the standard hailing call from the New Republic Naval Manual.

"Unidentified ships, identify yourselves or we will open fire."

The words were no sooner out of Green Leader's mouth when catastrophe struck. The auto pilot navcomps of all twelve ships immediately came on line and slaved themselves one to another. Each ship's navcomp ran quick computations for the center of the system's sun, then disabled all safety cutoffs. With tragic swiftness all twelve ships made immediate jumps to light speed and plowed into the blazing furnace of Mantooine’s Primary. There were no survivors.

Over the next few days, similar events became commonplace occurrences in every corner of the New Republic. Story after story after story poured in, totally inundating New Republic HQ with reports of pilots dying in their Y-wings. The usually imperturbable Admiral Ackbar, in an uncharacteristic fit of frustration, ordered every Y-wing in the military to the ground. Inspections commenced of the ship's onboard systems. Tragically, they discovered a computer version of a hive-virus that someone had sliced into the CPUs. When found, the program tripped and activated a critical overload in the ship's reactor, causing a massive explosion. Hundreds of technicians and support personnel died across the galaxy before the desperate order to cease all investigations was received.

Admiral Ackbar called an emergency session of the military High Council in order to reach a decision regarding the bizarre crisis. After several days of heated deliberations, the consensus of the body was to scrap all remaining Y-wings and start anew with an improved model of the ship. The prevailing opinion was that they had already lost so many ships, scrapping the remainder was more cost effective than losing more lives and equipment in trying to debug them.

The "prevailing opinion" quickly changed to horror when the military High Council discovered that every single known copy of the Y-wing blueprint no longer existed, mysteriously deleted from the New Republic and Koensayer computer systems. Pictures existed in abundance, but all of the detailed drawings necessary for re-creation of the craft simply vanished. Frantically, they made a move to find some computer system in the united Republic of planets that still had a copy. After a long and fruitless search, the government put out a call to outlaw groups on the Fringe, hoping beyond hope to find a pirated copy.

This was the point where they discovered that all of the Y-wing blueprints in private possession had suffered the same fate at the same time as the governments. A computer hive virus very similar to the one in the ships had infected the mainframes, replicating itself and searching out the files in every system in the galaxy, quietly deleting the originals and replacing them with a like named file that wiped out the system when executed.

The military was very nearly at its breaking point when Lady Winter stepped forward and stated that she had reviewed the blueprints at a previous date.

Now, everyone knew of her much vaunted holographic memory. Why, they asked, did you wait until now to come forward?

She replied by saying that her security clearance was granted in an intelligentsia role, and that technically her knowledge of them was against New Republic law.

Understandably, the Council practically fell all over themselves in their haste to make an exception for her.

Around this time, the final blow was struck. Without fail, as the blueprints reached 25% completion, the computer system would crash and erase the data from the hard drive. Virtually everything ceased to exist in the computers.

The last thing that would come up on the screen as the system gasped its final breath was the phrase, "DON'T EVER MAKE ANOTHER FLYING ABOMINATION LIKE THAT AGAIN!"

Wisely, the government listened.

PART FIVE

The Death of Callista

The morning dawned cold and wet. Swamp creatures called out, screeching their triumphant hunting cries or their agonized death squeals. A perpetual mist hung over the Dagobah morning, soaking Callista to her skin as she exited her shelter. She stretched languorously and yawned sleep's clinging tendrils away from her mind. Scratching at her side where one of Dagobah's parasitic dwellers had attempted to take up residence, she walked over to her fire pit to begin her breakfast.

Callista was much thinner now. She wryly reflected on the events of the last seven or eight years, the leanness of her existence and the revelations her meditations had brought her. She had always known that she was susceptible to the whisperings of the Dark Side and had always suspected that that was part of her separation from the Light these last few years. At first, she cursed the separation from the man she loved. Now, she understood that it was merely her destiny. The reports she had been hearing assured her that it was good for Luke, too. He apparently needed some maturity in his use of the Force, and with her he would not have gotten it. Then the Dark Side would have claimed them both.

That fateful day aboard the Eye of Palpatine she was already dangerously close to the Dark Side. Transferring her life force from the computer to Cray's willing body was what pushed her over the edge. That action had prompted the Force to place her in a bubble that effectively cut her off from itself. This was very similar to what Masters Arca, Bodo Baas and Nomi Sunrider had done before and during the Sith War. They had been capable of placing a Dark Jedi in a bubble of Light Side force that cut them off from their connection to the Dark Side. The only access to the Force that left them was the Light Side's. It very effectively neutralized them. Some like thing had happened to Callista. She suspected that she would not regain her connection to the Light Side's warmth until every single bit of the Dark Side's corrupting influence vanished.

She was almost there. As more of the past melted away into the mists of time, her joy at just being alive became much stronger. Very little of her past darkness remained. She no longer lay awake at night fretting over things that could have been or should have been. She was a Jedi and she served the Force. Nothing else mattered.

Callista finished preparing her food and sat down to eat it. As she lifted the first bite to her mouth, she heard the roar of landing jets firing in the shrouded mists overhead. Immediately, she forgot all thoughts of food.

Who could be landing here? She thought.

Taking a deep, calming breath, she set her bowl down and set her lightsaber within reach of her hand. She stared at the silvery cylinder and thought, One day soon I won't need to set you within arms reach, my friend.

The thunder of the jets grew increasingly louder as the ship dropped lower through the atmosphere. Suddenly, the noise transformed from a roar to a whining, high-pitched moan. Hmmm, cut in the repulsors, she thought. Callista reached into the pouch on her robe's belt and pressed the activator of the beckon call that snuggled in there. When she didn't hear a confirming beep from the unit, she drew it out and visually checked it. Jammed!

Immediately she stood and ran for her ship, nimbly dodging and hopping over stumps and roots along the way.

Callista's Hope, a Hyrotii Crescent-class light freighter, stood 25 meters away, hidden beneath the sensor net. The ship was a gift from one of her past employers, received two years ago after she had saved his life on Celanon. It contained some very sophisticated security and sensor systems, and it challenged her as she approached.

"Halt and be recognized."

"Recognition," she shouted.

"Confirmed," the ship replied, and the angry red light on the side control panel flickered to green. Callista punched in the manual override commands for her ship's start-up sequence and powered up the weapons system. Working frantically, she ripped the netting off and lowered the ramp leading into the ship's interior.

At that precise instant, the intruding ship lowered itself through the mist and oriented itself towards Callista. She immediately noticed the heavy laser cannon in the ship's nose and realized that she would never make it off the ground. With that same realization came the knowledge that she must face this interloper on its own terms.

Callista recognized the type of ship as Corellian, but was unfamiliar with the class. It possessed sleek lines and looked built for speed. Jutting from its stabilizers were two more laser cannons, long and wicked tools of destruction. An ion cannon rested on top of the hull like a malignant growth, and she also recognized openings that probably housed concussion missile tubes. Dressed to kill, she thought.

The ship eased to the ground with a sigh and shut down. A ramp lowered from the port side of the ship and a young woman strode down it to the damp soil. She stood there for a brief moment and looked around, seeming to take stock of the situation. She was lithe, gracefully shaped and moved with a feline, predatory air. Red-gold hair framed her face, pulled back into a tight braid at the back of her head. Her snug, formfitting jumpsuit suggested a serious, no-nonsense approach to affairs that in no way detracted from her obvious charms, which were plentiful.

Realization hit Callista and stunned her. Mara Jade? What is she doing here?

Mara turned to her and waved. Callista waved back, half-hearted in the motion. She noted, with interest, that the lightsaber hanging from Mara's belt wasn't the one Luke had given her. Perhaps they've had a falling out, she thought. Well, she won't get any help from me. Immediately, she felt shame for her petty and defiant attitude. Red faced, she turned away to stop her ship's launch cycle and to hide her embarrassment.

Mara walked up to her and greeted her. "Hello, Callista." She smiled and said, "Long time no see."

"Hello, Mara. Welcome to Dagobah. Ah--" She hesitated and Mara smiled again, this time rather slyly.

"I suppose you're wondering why I am here."

Callista flushed and muttered, "That thought had crossed my mind." She looked around the clearing restlessly and offered, "Would you like something to eat or drink?"

Mara shrugged and said, "Why not? I might as well before I get to business."

The two women walked back to the fire in silence, each absorbed in their own private thoughts. As they sat on the logs that encircled the fire pit, they sipped the hot beverages that Callista had provided. Finally, Callista could take the tense atmosphere no longer and broke the silence. "All right, Mara. Why are you here?"

Mara set her drink down and looked thoughtful. "Well, let's just say I needed to tie up a few loose ends." She stood and began to pace, hands clasped behind her back into tight fists. Abruptly she stopped and fixed Callista with a hard stare. "You’re the last one."

Callista's head jerked up, her head tilted quizzically, eyebrow arched in confusion. "Huh-?I", she thought.

Maara inhaled deeply and then slowly exhaled. She stared into the distance, her gaze fixed somewhere on the horizon as she sighed and said, "Let me tell you a story..."

"It all began a little over a year ago at a place called Lake Liralil. I awoke for the first time and realized that I was alive. I had sentience and a purpose; that purpose was to do the bidding of someone I know only as The Hand."

Callista's eyes narrowed and she hissed, "Her-." She climbed to her feet and gazed harshly at Maara, loathing pouring from her in waves. "Mara, how could you? She's been trying to have me killed for years!" Callista's hand began to edge toward her lightsaber as she eased slowly away from Maara, never once taking her eyes away from her soon to be executioner.

"Mara, I don't understand something. What do you mean 'you awoke for the first time'?"

Maara turned to look at Callista, a far away, almost dreamy look on her beautiful face. She smiled, almost sadly. No, with pity. "You don't get it, do you Callista? My name is Maara Jade, not Mara Jade. I am a clone."

Callista paled. Her mind whirled as though caught in the winds of the planet Vortex. Impossible, she thought. It can't be. How?

Abruptly, all thought stopped at the feel of her throat constricting and cutting off the flow of air to her lungs. She began to gag as bright spots appeared before her eyes and the edges of her vision slowly started fading to black. Then, as suddenly as it began, the assault on her throat stopped. The pain there crept down her chest, like the cold fingers of the undead, to linger and compress her heart. There it began to squeeze, slowly putting more and more pressure on the organ.

As Callista dropped to her knees, gasping in pain and from the lack of oxygen, Maara laughed and taunted, "It hurts, doesn't it?"

As she continued to chuckle, she released the Force grip she held on Callista's heart. She clucked her tongue as Callista rolled onto her back from her kneeling position, panting and clutching at her chest, all the while fighting to remain conscious. She eased one hand down from her chest to her belt and began to grope for the lightsaber hooked there. Maara saw this and gestured. The weapon pulled away and leapt to the clone’s outstretched hand.

Maara grimaced and shook her head, vicious glee written all over her visage. "Oh, no, my dear! We can't have that just yet. I want to play some more, first." She walked around to where Callista had turned her head and crouched next to her, but just out of reach. "I bet you're wondering where The Hand got the genetic material from, hmm?" Callista was still lying there moaning, but she managed to nod her head in response to the clone's query.

Maara smiled in satisfaction and mused, "Let me see. Do you remember when my template had to undergo neural reconstruction after the Katana fleet incident? You don't? Oh, yes, you were still trapped in the Eye of Palpatine, weren't you? The Hand paid one of the med-techs to obtain a small and easy to overlook piece of Mara's brain tissue. He delivered it to a courier who brought it to Nar Shaddaa. There it was picked up by The Hand herself and brought to Lake Liralil. Incidentally, Lake Liralil is another of the Emperor's storehouses, but I think that little secret will be safe with you, hmm?"

Callista was able to breathe much better at this point and managed to roll to a seated position. Her throat still ached and the pain in her chest felt as if a bantha was standing on it. While she could attempt to calm herself, she had no recourse to the Force to effectively alleviate her condition. Worst yet, she knew there wasn't really anything she could do about the clone, either. Maara was Force sensitive, fully armed, and totally evil. This was her end, her destiny, and she accepted it. I've got to keep her talking. Think, Cal, think!

Callista peered up at the grinning clone and calmly said, "Yes, I suppose it will be. How many storehouses does he have?" She began the attempt to stand up, but immediately felt the pressure begin on her throat and chest again.

"No, no, no. None of that, ma'am. You stay right where you are." Maara frowned and took a step back, putting a meter or two between them.

Callista sat back down and the grip faded away again. "That's better," Maara said. "Now, back to your question. He had a total of six, but Skywalker and his friends took care of Mt. Tantiss. That left five. I came from Lake Liralil, which leaves four, and I haven't a clue as to where the rest are. I do know that the guardian of each storehouse is a clone of the Jedi Masters from the Outbound Flight Project. Six Masters, six storehouses. It worked out perfectly for Palpatine."

This stunned Callista. This tale was unbelievable. She marshaled her thoughts and managed to stammer out, "But, what about the originals? Where are they? What if they come back?" She was afraid that she already knew the answer to that question, and Maara confirmed that fear with her next statement.

"Oh, them? Grand Admiral Thrawn took care of them when they reached the Unknown Regions. One Interdictor cruiser and some careful planning was all he needed to kill them. After that, I guess they didn't really need their genetic material anymore." Maara walked over to the tree farthest away from Callista and leaned against it. She casually crossed her shapely legs at the ankles and folded her arms across her chest. Angling her head to look at Callista's face, she regarded her with a quizzical expression.

“Why all of the curiosity about the storehouses? I would have bet my credits you would want to know how you were going to die."

Callista shifted her position so her rear wouldn't fall asleep and pondered the question. "I guess it doesn't really matter. To a Jedi, death is only the beginning of a new phase of living. What does it matter how you get there?"

Maara snorted, "Yeah, right, like you really expect me to believe that."

Callista replied, "No, it's true. If you have no choice about making a journey and are not given a choice as to how you travel, all that matters then is that you get there." She crossed her legs and propped her elbows on the knees, resting her chin in her hands as she continued her thought. "In all honesty though, I suppose I would rather the trip to be quick as opposed to lengthy." She smiled wryly and quipped, "Do I have a choice?"

Maara considered this for a moment. "Sure, within certain parameters, of course." She stood and began to pace again. "I guess I have enough of an advantage to allow you that." She paused, then continued, ticking off with her fingers as she did, "One, no blaster duels. Two, no hunts. Three, no ship to ship fighting." Her eyes narrowed and she stared at Callista. "I think that sums it up."

Callista mulled this over. After several minutes she smiled wanly and said, "All right, how about a lightsaber duel?"

The predator in Maara surged through to the surface of her face and she regarded Callista with a wicked, wolfish grin. "Oh, I like that. I have the advantage in the Force and you have the advantage of years of experience. A fair match, I think."

Maara moved from her position against the tree and tossed Callista her lightsaber, but just out of her reach. Callista had to lean over to catch it, which overbalanced her. She fell over, but rolled with the motion and came smoothly to her feet, igniting her lightsaber as she did. The sun yellow blade "snap-hissed" into existence, and she smiled. She nodded at Maara's white blade as it too hissed to life and said, "You know, your lightsaber was my first clue that something wasn't right." She started towards Maara and raised her blade to a guard position. "That's not the one he gave Mara."

Maara snarled, "Observant little bitch, aren't you?" She lunged forward with her blade and feinted at Callista's legs, then slashed upward in an attempt to cut her fighting arm.

Callista ignored the feint and easily parried the strike, her blade hissing as it slid along the other. Using Maara's blade as a springboard, she shoved, and her saber leapt into a short, counterclockwise circle, returning the attack to Maara and trying for her arm.

Maara anticipated the attack and went with the motion of the push and spun out of range with bare centimeters to spare. She completed her spin and found that Callista was just standing there, calmly waiting for her.

Callista slightly bowed her head and softly said, "Whenever you're ready."

Maara's beautiful face twisted into an ugly mask of rage and hate. She spat a curse at her nemesis and carried the attack back to her, slashing viciously in an attempt at finishing the contest.

Surprised at the ferocity of the attack, Callista hastily blocked and countered with an equally hasty uppercut, sidestepping and looking for another opening.

The two women battled on and on. They blocked and countered, feinting and parrying and counterattacking, giving no quarter and asking for none. The fight raged for nearly thirty minutes before one of them made a fatal error, and then it happened quickly.

Callista's malt hair clung to her head with sweat and her breathing came in short, ragged gasps. Her muscles screamed and protested at the punishment they were receiving, aching and threatening to quit. At least Maara's finally looking winded, she thought with relief.

As Callista thought this, Maara stumbled. With an exultant cry of triumph, Callista stepped through her attack and raised her blade to deliver the finishing blow. Just as her blade began its downward charge, her joy turned to horrified despair. That smile. Oh, NO.. .!

Maara nimbly sidestepped the attack that her faked stumble had provoked and smiled, coldly and evilly. Using a tactic similar to the one her template had used on Wayland, she thumbed her blade off, reoriented it towards Callista's heart, thumbing it back on. The blade sprang back to life and arrowed through the robe's cloth, the body beneath it, and back out the other side. It hissed and sizzled at the contact of cloth and flesh, humming as if accepting the offering it had received. The smell of burned flesh hung in the morning air as the body that originated it fell to its knees and then slumped over onto its side, eyes open and wide with shock.

Maara stood by and watched as the body inside the brown robe vanished, leaving the robe to slump empty to the ground, the lightsaber deactivating itself as the grip that held it disappeared.

Thumbing her blade off again, she extended her empty hand towards the lightsaber on the ground and watched meditatively as it floated up to her. She considered keeping it as a trophy, then shook her head negatively. She would send it to Skywalker with a holo for explanation. Consider it closure for his life.

Two hours later, after slicing into Callista's ship's computer, she slaved it to her own ship and the two vessels lifted off into Dagobah's sky, leaving the planet empty once again.

PART SIX

Epilogue

Sunshine filled the skies of Yavin IV as its yellow primary peeked over the horizon, tentatively at first, then more boldly over time. Thick mists shrouded the verdant forests of the moon, covering the lush growth with a cold blanket as though tucked into a bed. Animals cried out in pain and joy, greeting their mates and their prey with equal abandon, venturing out into the dawning new day to survive.

As the sun burned the mist away from the Massassi temple that housed Luke Skywalker's Jedi Praxeum, the sounds of students at their morning exercises greeted it just as warmly as it greeted them.

Jedi Master Luke Skywalker surveyed his students as he ran with them through the jungle, noting their individual strengths and weaknesses and planning tests for them. He often did the physical training with them, more for his own discipline than for the obvious show of solidarity, which was an added benefit. Most importantly, it set a rather pointed precedent that no one was above any one else at the Academy.

As they exited the jungle's edge, Luke saw Streen waiting for him at the temple's entrance. Even at a distance Luke could see the concern on his top pupils face. Luke turned to the group leader and gestured for her to continue on without him. He split away from the group, returning their waved farewell as he left. He jogged over to Streen and saw that he was holding a package and a towel.

Luke regarded him with a smile and asked, "Are those both for me?"

Streen looked slightly embarrassed and said, "Yes, Master Skywalker, they are. The towel is from Mistress Mara and the package is from Callista."

Suddenly Luke understood Streen's discomfort.

Callista.

After all these years of silence, why would she seek him out and send a package?

Luke looked at Streen and smiled. "Thank you, Streen. Have you seen Mara?"

"Yes, she’s in your chambers practicing with the remotes." He paused then said, "Is there anything else I can do for you Master Luke?"

Luke sighed and replied, "No Streen. I'll just go in to see Mara and take care of this package."

Much to Luke's surprise, Streen looked relieved as he handed over the package. In fact, he visibly shivered when he handed it over.

"Streen, are you all right?" Luke queried.

Streen started guiltily, almost as if Luke had caught him out at something. "Um, yes, I am," he stammered. "I just could have sworn that I felt a disturbance in the Force when the package arrived on the courier ship, as if a Dark Side presence was here."

Luke grimaced and nodded. "I felt it also. You say it was when the package arrived?"

Streen nodded. "Yes. I was most surprised to see that it was from Callista."

Luke sighed and nodded. Yes, very surprising, he thought. "All right, Streen, thank you." He turned to go and reached out in the Force for Mara's presence and found her to still be fighting the remotes. Her mind seemed very active for remote practice, and this puzzled him. As he walked into the practice room, he immediately understood her frame of mind. Mara was battling three of the devices simultaneously.

Battling them well.

Mara twisted, spun, and parried, her grace and fluidity prosaic in its poetry, keeping its own rhythm and entwined with the rhythm of the Force.

At least she did until she felt his presence as he walked into the room, calm and confident, yet troubled. She risked stealing a glance at him and immediately regretted it. All three remotes fired simultaneously with two catching her legs and the third stunning her sabre arm. Mara, true to form, began to curse vehemently as her stunned legs dropped her onto the hard floor.

Luke chuckled and spoke the command override for the remotes and shut them off. He went up to Mara, set the package down, and began to massage feeling back into her legs.

"Oh, I hate this, I HATE this! I can't feel my legs," she groused. Mara began to rub her arm with her hand, trying to get feeling back into it as well. She flopped backwards onto her back and moaned under Luke's ministrations. "Ah, Sith spawn, that hurts when the feeling comes back in."

Luke picked her up in his arms and levitated the package as he carried her into their room. He laughed as Mara began to complain.

"Now they're starting to tingle! Ahhh!" He set her on the bed, still laughing as she began to beat him and demand that he stop laughing at her.

His laughing eased off to amused chuckles as he began rubbing her legs again, his eyes twinkling with mischief as the rubbing became more purposeful. Mara stretched with feline grace, arms over her head and eyes saying more than she was speaking. She reached over and folded her hands behind his neck and pulled him down to her as a low moan escaped her lips...

***

Sometime later, Luke opened his eyes and found Mara propped on her elbows, staring at him, green eyes sparkling in the fading light of the day. He smiled and reached up to tenderly stroke her face. She rolled her neck to rub her face against his hand, much as a cat would rub against a stroking caress. Mara smiled down at him and said, "Why did she send you a package?"

Startled, Luke sat upright in bed. "I completely forgot about it!" He jumped up to get the mystery package and found that Mara had it, hidden behind her back.

Mara held it out to him and spoke in a low monotone. "Luke, she's been gone for years. Why is she doing this now?"

Luke gaped at Mara, a shocked expression on his visage. Realization smacked him dead in the face as he muttered, "I don't believe this; you're jealous."

Mara exploded. "Of course I'm jealous! Skies, Luke, she's an old lover! Hello! Did you forget I'm your wife?! Why shouldn't I be jealous?!"

He reached out to hold her and found her stiff and unyielding. He spoke soothing words to her to heal her wounded heart, gently reminding her of his vows to her. "Mara, she is the past and you are my present. I swore to be faithful to you and I have. I always will be. What kind of husband would I be if I wasn't?"

Her expression softened and she leaned into his embrace, "I can be fiercely overprotective, can't I? What kind of wife would I be if I weren't?"

Luke smiled and said, "Boring!"

Her mouth fell open, a look of sheer amazement spread across her lovely features. “Boring? Boring! I’ll show YOU boring!” With a battle cry, she leapt upon him and they fell together, poking and tickling each other until they were both so winded they could laugh no more.

Mara grinned wickedly, then kissed Luke and said, "So, open it."

Luke turned the box over in his hands and shook it lightly. They could both hear something rattling about on the inside and the box felt substantial in weight without being heavy. The Jedi Master reached out with the Force and felt the presence of coldness and death. He cast a significant glance at Mara who had paled and suddenly become very serious. Luke found the thumb plate and pressed his digit to it. The lock de-activated with a "snap" and the pressure seal released its grip upon the contents, allowing the lid to rise.

Mara gasped and a low moan escaped from Luke's lips as the box's contents became visible.

Callista's lightsaber. Dented and bloody, covered in mud and swamp detritus, but plainly and obviously the weapon of Luke's former lover.

Luke reached into the box and pulled the weapon out of the darkness and into the light. As he did so, the box's holoprojector activated and began to project a shimmering depiction of a battle. The image clearly depicted Callista and someone who looked exactly like Mara locked in mortal combat. The hologram continued to run until the grisly end, showing Callista die and then vanish. As it did so, the swamp battle scene faded out and into a single figure. The figure standing over the box was grainy but instantly recognizable as the exact image of Mara.

Mara gasped and Luke muttered, "Sith."

The holo began to speak...

"Greetings. If you are seeing this hologram then you have already removed Callista's lightsaber from the box and have seen her die. Sorry about how it looks. It is a bit messy, isn't it?" The hologram woman laughed and continued. "My name is Maara Jade, and I am a clone of your wife. How I came to be is rather irrelevant at this time so I’ll cut to the chase. My creator made me to hunt and kill several people that you hold dear, the last of whom was Callista. Kyp Durron was first. I came on to him, letting him think that I was your wife. He was so drunk; fooling him by appealing to his masculinity and his lust for Mara was easy."

At this, Luke raised an eyebrow, glancing at Mara. “Oh yes, he had a thing for her. That just made it SO much easier.” The Holo Maara chuckled quietly before pausing in reflection. After a few seconds of silence, she somberly continued.

"Qwi Xux was also easy. I simply planted a fake datacard telling her that Wedge would be unable to make it home for their anniversary and then arranged a little delay to keep him from getting home on time. Then I just played the sympathetic friend and took her out. When I finished with her I used a disruptor to get rid of the evidence. I've enclosed the before and after holos for your perusal."

Mara pulled the holos out of the box and looked at them. She paled and her mouth hardened to a thin, rigid line.

Maara's holo image clasped its hands behind its back and began to pace. "I then killed Admiral Daala and her lover, Vorn.” She spoke the word “Admiral” with quite a bit of venom and contempt. “It was much quicker for them, though. Thermal detonators are rather efficient in that regard." The image stopped and turned to face the camera directly. "I took a short break at this point to eradicate all of the New Republic Y-wing fighters, may their remains rust in peace."

Luke sucked in a sharp breath, shocked and stunned at this revelation. Space me, SHE did that?

The hologram chuckled. “What can I say? I needed a break.”

She looked directly ahead at this point, her face becoming serious. "Finally, it was time for the coup de grace. It took me nearly a year, but I discovered that Callista had gone to ground on Dagobah.

The hologram gestured in the direction of what would’ve been the direction of the lightsaber before packaging. “As you can see, I went there and killed her. I know you would never believe that it was in fair combat, so I recorded the entire episode. Obviously, as it preceded my little speech."

Maara took a deep breath and let it slowly out. She suddenly looked older, weary, worn out. She looked intently at the camera and spoke, softly, almost too low to hear, "Now I've finished my mission and all of you, including The Hand, can collectively go to hell. I fully intend to disappear and become my own person. I want nothing to do with Mara Jade, Jedi, The Hand…” She grimaced in anger. “I want nothing to do with anyone. I just want to be left alone to discover who I am and find out for myself what I believe, not what I've been programmed to think. May our paths never cross, and good bye." The hologram turned as if to walk away, then stopped. Maara's head dropped and they heard her speak one last time in a barely audible whisper. "For what it’s worth, I'm sorry."

The holo winked out and disappeared.

Mara and Luke sat in horrified silence for several minutes. Finally, they turned to look at each other and simply stared, unable to form words.

Luke finally broke the silence. Quietly and with conviction, he said, "This can’t get out. Not ever."

Mara wheeled on him and shouted, "WHAT? What do you mean, never?! We have to give this to the New Republic so they can..."

"So they can what?” Luke countered. “Hunt her down like Colonel Bremen wanted to hunt you?" He sighed and continued, "Mara, she is in nearly the same place you were in not too many years ago. The difference is while you served Palpatine willingly, she was created to serve this ‘Hand’ person and was flash-taught what to think." He looked into her eyes searchingly, "If there was hope for you, don't you think there's hope for her? Let her go!"

The Jedi looked down at the weapon in his hand, sadly. He placed the it on the table next to the bed and decisively erased the holograms. Finally, he took a deep breath, then turned to see his wife. Mara was standing at the open viewport, apparently lost in her thoughts. Luke moved behind her and put his arms around her.

Mara put her hand on his arm, turned and asked, eyes looking at him questioningly. "Luke, was I ever really that murderous?"

Luke folded her into a warm and comforting embrace, sending thoughts of love and peace to ease her mind and said, "I got through to you before you could get that far. The potential was there, but we beat the program."

Mara looked out of the window and whispered, "Yes, we did. I just hope you’re right about her."

THE END?