ABOARD THE JADE SHADOW

Luke sat back in the pilot’s seat, blowing out a heavy breath. Little Allana was proving to be a bit too clever for her great-uncle’s own good. Leia, as could be expected, had taken charge of the situation and defused it expertly. Threepio, flustered and alternately apologetic and defensive, had hastily transmitted the data and signed off.

It had been a long day, filled with all kinds of things Luke really would rather not have had to deal with. Dyon Stad had snapped, attacked a guard, stolen a speeder bike, and very nearly caused a political crisis that would have shaken a culture to its core.

Luke had overheard his son, the Jedi Knight, telling jokes to a Sith apprentice who was giggling at them as if she were nothing more than an ordinary sixteen-year-old girl. Luke had to admit, he wasn’t sure which incident bothered him more—and that simple fact really bothered him.

They had returned with Dyon still unconscious, and there was now the question of what to do with him. Luke had realized at once they had to sell the yacht that had once belonged to Vestara and now Dyon. He was fine with that; the credits could go toward supplies. They’d need to keep Dyon very close at hand, and Luke was not about to let one of the Siths have the yacht. Had this still been the vessel of the Emperor’s Hand, no doubt there would be a special area used for the stashing of prisoners, and it wouldn’t be luxury quarters. But the Jade Shadow had been adapted for the use of Mara Jade Skywalker, and while Mara was certainly not one to embark on any kind of journey, short or long, without being prepared for any contingency, there was no prisoner cell per se.

There was, however, a sick bay, which included a bed with pretty decent restraints and a veritable laboratory of medicinal supplies. Dyon was now tranquilized, with a drip pouring a constant, comforting stream of chemicals into his body. He was strapped down at chest, waist, wrists, and thighs, with a set of stun cuffs on his ankles for good measure. He was hooked up to a monitor that would send an alert throughout the ship if his status changed, and Luke had set up a small mouse droid to watch him at all times.

Ben’s contribution was to hang his vor’cha stun stick beside the door within easy reach. He had not had cause to use it—not yet—but Tadar’Ro, the Aing-Tii monk who had given it to Ben, seemed to think it was extremely powerful. “It’s a gift from rock guys, designed to drop their enemies,” Ben had pointed out. “I’m sure it packs a wallop.”

All in all, it was a far cry from the setup at the Jedi Temple back on Coruscant, and much less than Luke would have preferred, but it would have to do. He felt fairly confident that they would be able to restrain Dyon for a while. At least Dyon wasn’t a trained Jedi Knight, nor was his ability with the Force particularly strong. Luke was grateful for small favors.

After they had secured Dyon, Ben said, with a completely failed effort at casualness, “I’m going to check on Vestara. See how she’s doing.”

“You do that,” Luke had said, “then tell her we’re taking a walk and we’re locking her in her quarters while we’re gone.”

Ben’s red brows drew together. “What?”

“You heard me, son.” Luke’s voice was calm, but brooked no argument. “Dyon’s restrained, but he could be very dangerous. And dangerous people have often been employed by the Sith.”

“I can’t believe you just said that,” Ben said, his voice rising. His blue eyes snapped with anger and hurt. “She’s the one who brought him down, Dad.”

“I am aware of that,” Luke said, tapping into the Force to keep his own rising irritation at bay. “But you were right there with her. She might well have done something very different had you not been.”

“When are you—”

“Ben.” Luke put the Force behind the words, so that Ben would know he was very serious indeed. “Go tell Vestara, activate the exterior controls on her door, and then come meet me outside.”

Ben’s breath was quick and angry, but he had nodded curtly and stomped off with unnecessary noise to do as he was instructed. Luke had lingered for a moment, gazing at the prone figure of Dyon. He shook his head sadly. Cilghal was not going to be happy to hear about this. He’d send her a quick update while Ben was talking with Vestara. The still figure before him represented why he had made the tentative and much-revisited decision to ally with the Sith in the first place—to find out what Abeloth’s hold over these unfortunate beings was, and to end that hold.

He had gone to send Cilghal the message, and frowned slightly as he realized someone was trying to contact him at the same time. He pressed a button, and had been relieved when he saw Threepio’s gold figure in minature. While the ensuing conversation had some tense moments, it had ended well, and he was now anxious to discover what Threepio had learned.

Luke began to read the translation Threepio had sent. Luke was honestly a bit surprised the protocol droid had pulled it off. Threepio had done a magnificent job, cross-referencing millions of different languages in order to produce something that, while hardly literature, was at least comprehensible and presumably fairly close to what had actually been said. Although, he mused, it did remind him a little bit of how Yoda used to speak.

As he read, Luke couldn’t suppress a smug smile at Gavar Khai’s comment that the conversation wouldn’t be translated swiftly. They obviously did not know Threepio—or the golden droid’s ego.

His eyes moved swiftly across the screen. So—Vestara had given Khai a map of the vessel. Not surprising. Luke was not overly troubled. If the Sith had access to all the things he suspected they did, they would be able to get the basic schematics of the SoroSuub Horizon-class Star Yacht easily enough. Vestara herself had been traveling in a similar vessel. The modifications to the Jade Shadow were more problematic, but nothing dire.

He continued to read, smiling a little from time to time at the technically accurate but inadvertently humorous translation.

Luke frowned just for an instant. Dark women—Nightsisters. He’d known Vestara was responsible for the abduction of the Nightsisters. They’d obviously been evaluated according to their skills and ability to use the Force. Those who didn’t obey quickly enough were tortured.

Luke smiled bitterly. He’d suspected as much. There was nothing wrong with the Sith apprentices. The entire story had been a lie to convince Luke to ally with them. He gave a mental shrug.

He tensed slightly as Vestara inquired about the real reason the Sith were allying with him, and frowned in disappointment as Gavar Khai dodged the question.

The next few sentences yielded nothing of interest to Luke. And then, what he was expecting came.

A chill went through Luke, and a shiver of revulsion as well. Khai was urging his own child, a girl of sixteen, to attempt to seduce Ben—in all ways. Khai continued, excited at the prospect of a Sith Ben Skywalker, but reminding his daughter that if she failed to turn Ben to the dark side, she would be allowed to play with him … only as long as he was useful.

Ben needed to see this.

At that moment, he sensed his son’s presence and turned around. Ben poked his auburn head in, glowering. “I’ve been outside for fifteen minutes, Dad.”

“Sorry to have kept you waiting,” Luke said sincerely. He waved Ben forward. “Close the door.”

Ben snorted. He was still agitated. “Dyon’s out cold and Vestara’s locked in her room. I debated telling her I was sending her to bed without supper.”

“There’s something you need to see,” Luke said, letting his son’s anger wash over him. “You remember, of course, when Gavar Khai came on board, and I told you I was recording their conversation.”

Ben nodded, blue eyes narrowing. “Yeah … you said we couldn’t understand Keshiri, but you knew someone who—oh. Threepio?”

Luke nodded. “I think you’ll find it very interesting.”

Ben went very still. Luke sent the transmission to the copilot monitor, leaned back, and closed his eyes to allow Ben to read in private.

There was the occasional snort of amusement, and then Ben fell silent. When he heard the sound of Ben sinking back in his chair, Luke opened his eyes.

“So she’s planning on seducing me,” Ben said, his voice carefully devoid of emotion. “Trying to pull me over to the dark side. I guess I kind of figured that was her plan.”

“She is Sith, Ben,” Luke said quietly. “Born and raised. It’s in her blood. You couldn’t really expect anything else from her. In a way, it’s almost not her fault. But you needed to know.”

“So that I can pretend to go along with it?” Ben snapped. “So that we can use her, get information from her, just like she’s trying to do with me?”

“No,” Luke said, still gently. “So that you don’t get hurt.”

“I’m not going to go over to the dark side, Dad.”

Ben was angry, and directing it at Luke. Luke didn’t rise to the bait. “I know that. I know better than to think that you’re in danger of that happening. If Caedus couldn’t get you to join him, with the connection you two had, Vestara doesn’t stand a chance. But you can still get hurt. Pretty badly.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Ben said, rising. “I can take care of myself. She’s just a girl, Dad. So—what did you want to talk to me about?”

Luke smiled sadly. “That,” he said.

“Oh.” Ben shifted in his seat uneasily. “Listen, I—I need to get out of here for a bit. That okay?”

“Sure,” Luke said. His son had been in rougher places than this relatively calm spaceport, and he had aided the authorities today. He would be fine. As the youth rose, Luke added, “I know that Lando is a few days away from having the Rockhound ready, but I’m beginning to think that we need to move sooner rather than later. Start moving the flotilla toward the Maw. Lando can catch up with us.”

“Sounds good to me,” Ben said, already almost out the door of the cockpit. “The sooner we’re done with these Sith, the better I’ll like it.”

As he watched Ben leave, Luke knew he was not the first parent to feel his own heart ache at his child’s pain. But most parents didn’t have to worry about their child losing their heart to a Sith, either. Like everything the Sith were involved with, they made even teenage romance just that much more painful and dark.

Alone in her room, munching on a pak’pah fruit, Vestara sensed that something had happened between Luke and Ben. She couldn’t tell what, exactly. Ben had been upset, but not with her, when he had knocked on the door earlier, bringing a few pieces of the fruit as a peace offering.

“Dad and I are heading out for a bit,” he said.

“Oh? I thought he disliked this planet,” she said, realizing almost immediately how disingenuous it sounded.

“Yeah, me, too, but you know how it goes. Parents.” He gave her a grin that did not reach his eyes. “Don’t know how long we’ll be gone, but I brought you this in case you got hungry.”

She let her face fall, slightly. “I see. Thank you.”

Ben looked uncomfortable and gave her a shrug. She smiled at him. “It’s okay, Ben. My father would have done the same.”

“Funny how different but similar they are.”

“Agreed.” They looked at each other awkwardly for a moment, then Ben flashed her another quick smile and closed the door. She heard the slight hum as it again locked into place.

She was hungry, and was glad of at least something to eat while she focused in on the Skywalkers. She did not know the particulars, but she supposed she did not have to. Luke was uncomfortable with Ben’s attraction to her, Ben was upset at being lectured. Vestara felt certain that if he knew just how guarded Ben was being, he would not worry nearly so much.

He did like her, and as she had confided to her father, she liked Ben as well. It certainly made her job easy, although it added an element of disquietude that was unexpected. Earlier that day, after they had spoken to Kelkad about the Klatooinian history of slavery, she and Ben had been perilously close to an argument about ideals—something she had tried assiduously to avoid. Ben was good-natured and forgiving, but he was also intelligent. He would not be an easy convert, if indeed he could be persuaded to walk the dark path at all, and if she ever allowed him a moment to think, really think, about just how different they were, she would lose this battle.

She’d acted fast, letting herself choke on the piece of pak’pah fruit, knowing that she could remove the blockage instantly using the Force. The danger had been real—a non-Force-user would have died. It had to be real, for Ben would have sensed an act. The incident had completely distracted him, and greater distraction came shortly thereafter in the form of a mad Force-user heading for the Fountain. She and Ben had worked remarkably well as a team, and as she recalled the event, Vestara smiled slightly. Even sitting in the unpleasant old cell had been entertaining—and informative. In order to get the jokes, Vestara had to ask what many apparently common things were. Perhaps because she had asked out of a genuine desire to know so she could appreciate the humor, Ben had been readily forthcoming with explanations. And so Vestara had learned much.

And now Luke was reining his son in, urging caution. She felt Ben departing the ship, and unease flickered in her chest.

She attempted to distract herself by playing a holographic game, but the sensation continued. An hour or so later, she felt Ben return. Almost at once, there was a knock on her door.

“Yes, Ben?” She made no attempt to hide that she knew it was him. He was very well trained in the Force; he knew she could sense him. The door slid open.

He was still upset, but this time it was cold, not hot. And his anger was not directed at Luke, but at her. She had been lying on the bed, but now she sat up, peering at him.

“Dad is sending a message out now to the flotilla,” he said in clipped tones. “We’re going to be leaving soon.”

“Oh? Has your friend Lando arrived?”

“Not yet. Dad wants to go anyway. He says that Lando can meet us there whenever he can make it.”

“I thought the whole point of getting the Rockhound was to help navigate the Maw,” Vestara said, frowning a little.

“Yeah, well, I don’t know, Dad’s getting antsy. And so am I. I’m ready to be done with this. Thought I’d let you know.” The door closed.

Vestara’s stomach clenched. Something had gone very wrong. Whatever Luke had convinced Ben of, it had taken deep root. She was going to have to work very hard to even recover the ground she had lost. She tried to convince herself that the tension and unhappiness she was feeling was unease at how her father would react, but she knew that was only part of it.

She had enjoyed being friends with Ben, and now that had gone away. It might come—no, she was Sith, she was cunning and strong willed, it would come back—but the coldness with which he regarded her troubled her more than she would ever have expected.

“Why weren’t you just born Sith, Ben,” she said softly, and laid her flushed face against the cool softness of the pillow.