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***
Excitate vos e somno, liberi mei
Cunae sunt non
Excitate vos e somno, liberi fatali
Somnus est non
***

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They say that all great sagas must have a beginning, a point at which everything begins to unfold. This is where this story begins, set against star-studded horizon a tiny speck of colour, its engines leaving a faint trail of light across the skyscape. On closer inspection of the craft it would be identified as a YT-1300. Through the view screen window of the ship could be seen a small group of travelers, not doing anything particularly out of the ordinary. A man sat at the helm of the ship, inputting commands every so often, with another younger male to his left, asleep at his post.

Behind the two, a little further back into the craft was the med-bay. A small sanitary looking room fitted to treat a single being at a time. At this time, the being was one female human. Motionless on the table lay the body of the fiery haired woman, asleep or perhaps under some sedative. Not for long it seemed though, because as the vessel picked up its speed - parts clunking - the woman’s eyes sprung open - the bright light of the room causing the pupils of her jade eyes to shrink.

“Nearing Nal Hutta,” the captain murmured.

Nal Hutta? Hadn’t she just left there? What was she doing on this ship? Why was she returning? Hefting herself up and off of the flimsy table, she ducked quickly against the wall of the bay just enough so that she would not be seen, but could see the goings on in the cockpit.

The drowsy young man was still in his dream state, and it seemed – from the mannerisms he showed - the captain would soon join him. Surely she had a weapon. A blaster. She fumbled it into her hands and strafed out into the corridor leading down towards the men, her first realization of her attire striking her as the figure cupping leather make a slight noise.

“Bw…wha…what!” A sudden feeling of being watched. No, there was no one except him, Bein and the woman – and she was in no state to be walking around. Darkness.

The blaster bolt struck him in the back of the skull, the energy rippling down his spine rapidly to send him into unconsciousness. The same fate befell ‘Bein’ as a second more accurate shot hit the top of his spine. Both bodies fell limp accordingly, the captain slumping down across the control panel with his comrade looking no different than he had previously done in the patent leather chair. Her marksmanship was excellent, if only she knew why.

Pushing past the two inadequate guards to the ships controls, the urge to blast the whole system with the gun formed in the back of her mind. A quaint idea, although somewhat implausible. Instead she threw the body of the captain down onto the floor, and took the controls herself, altering them with a practiced ease to set the course of Corellia.

As she sat back in the chair comfortably, her dark boots toeing at the slumped figure at her feet, she thought on the idea of wanting to go to Corellia. It struck her as a good idea for some reason. And why not follow it up? After all, so far in her brief few minutes of consciousness, her good ideas had been working very well in practice. Perhaps on her way there she could work it out, no doubt all would be revealed in due time.

Luke Skywalker awoke at roughly that same moment, in an ice cold sweat. He swallowed hard, glancing about the room, trying to find... what was it again? Oh.

Of course.

The dream. It was always the same... his last goodbye with Mara. The light kiss, the shared smile, and his beautiful wife walking away. When the scene had actually occured, she'd boarded her Skipray Blastboat, and left Corellia in a blaze of fire and a roar of engines. He figured he'd be seeing her in a week, maybe two- however long it would take her to track down Talon Karrde, and bail him out of whatever trouble he'd gotten himself into.

A week had passed.

And another.

Another after that. And since, the weeks had just kept passing. That usual presence, that secure knowledge that Mara was fine- brought about by their long-range telepathic connection- began to falter, by the end of the second week. One week later, it was gone.

Mara was dead.

So in the dream, as Mara Jade swaggered away, the scene warped. The sky darkened, straight lines became crooked, and crooked lines straight. A splitting pain wracked his forehead, and the Jedi Master would fall to the ground. A gigantic fissure would open up in the launch pad, and swallow his wife.

Luke wiped his eyes. She was dead; would she want him to dwell on it? He could almost hear the words she would use to chastise him for such mourning.

Listen here, Skywalker. If you don't sharpen up, and get out of this moping stage, you're going to get wasted by the first thug that decides to off you.

Despite the pain in his heart, the Jedi smiled. Always rough, rugged, Mara had been. Her outward appearance had always been one of uncaring. She appeared to be a typical smuggler. Inside, of course, she wasn't; but only Luke ever really saw that side. Or rather, felt it, through the force.

And now she was dead.

Skywalker's holocomm beeped quietly, and the Jedi reached for it, activating it with a tap.

'Master Skywalker!'

"You can call me Luke, Talon."

The grizzled old smuggler- or, as he now styled himself, "Independant Information Broker"- smiled a geniune grin. Even if it was hard to do so, considering the news he was calling him to deliver, it was best to seem cheerful...

"Luke it is. Look, you know I owe you and Mara my life many times over... when she was working for me, I can't tell you how many times she pulled me out of the fire. And you two have been doing it ever since..."

Talon stopped and grimaced, holding back tears he'd sworn he would not shed. It had taken what seemed like cycles just to get up the courage to call him. The expression on the Jedi master's face was as heart-wrenching as the death of Mara.

"So I went searching. You know me, I've got contacts, and I... well, I talked to some people on Nal Hutta and Nar Shadda, and... I..."

Karrde lost it, as a single tear rolled down his cheek. The smuggler bit his lip, and looked up and Luke again with glossy eyes.

"They got her, Luke."

Talon half expected Luke to shed a tear or two himself, but he didn't. He looked forward bravely, and nodded once.

'I know, Talon.'

"How could you possibly-?"

As the obvious struck him, Karrde nodded glumly.

"Good luck, Luke. Karrde out."

'Skywalker out.'

Lying back against the pilots chair was a sweet change from the rigid table she had previous woken on. With a deep inhalation and a soft sigh she scanned around the area, an emotionless appearance remaining on her face as she took in the layout of the room. It seemed small on a first glance, though after a second scan the room only looked to be tiny in size because of the items stacked around. Large crates of items were piled all around, stamped with large black lettering of some language that she could not quite pick out. The inventory of the crew was not particularly important, however so her attention strayed from it to the dash in front of her quickly.

The main computer screen showed the statistics of the ships progress, with a smaller screen to its left running constant news feed. She cared for neither particularly. The small window of information to the right of the specs did interest her, though. It held an audio and written log. The captain and his ‘crew’ had not left any information in the written diary, but it seemed like they had left a little message in the sound bank.

“We’re taking Mara back to Gratta at the moment… its 0436 hours, she’s out cold. No worries about the drugs wearing off any time soon – she may be one of <!--EZCODE BOLD START--> them<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->, but she can’t recover that quickly.”

There was some interference in the recording for a few seconds before it eventually cut off. It was short, yet in some ways invaluable. Mara – that was her name, according to the captain.

“Mara…” she said it out aloud, hoping to trigger some neural reaction through simply saying the word. Nothing. It simply gave her a tag to be attributed. With a deep sigh, Mara looked away from the information out into the stars in front of her, her head thudding softly back against the head of the chair.

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Corellia was pleasant at mid day, and Mara found herself taking in the sun silhouetted scenery some time at the hanger on the planets surface. She had registered the craft as being a shipment to the New Republic, and thankfully the desk attendant at the yard had believed her and allowed her to pass through into the city streets.

The warmth of the rising sun was a comforting change from the cramped chamber she had been kept in. The chamber, she now remembered it. The voices, she remembered those also. They were sharper and more aggressive than the babble all around her. The constant black, unending …

Mara brought a hand up to run back through her auburn hair, dismissing the aforementioned thought as she carried on walking, slinging a bag over her shoulder – which she had packed with some essential items, ‘borrowed’ from the crew of the YT-1300.

Luke had decided to get a little more sleep after the call from Karrde, figuring it better to awake rested and devastated than tired and devastated. With his Jedi meditation techniques he was quickly in a force-induced unconscious state, similar to sleep. More restful, however- and, more importantly, dreamless.

At least, it usually was.

Not this time.
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The gold-red haired woman swaggered confidently toward him, and Luke smiled. His wife was beautiful... and even more beautiful, to him. They shared a link like no other two beings in the galaxy; an inseperable link, which spanned the distance between the two Jedi masters, near or far.

"Mara... I know you hate it when I say this, but be careful."

Mara gave a quick laugh, and pushed him lightly on the shoulder. Her demeanor was rough, but her smile was warm.

'Come on, Skywalker. You know me. Besides, I have to find Karrde.'

"And I have to stay here and train students, I know, I know. Just don't get careless. You only get hit from the side you're not watching."

She shook her head, grinning at her husband wrly. Mara's face became more tender for a moment- and Luke smiled, slightly, noticing she only did so after assuring herself no one was watching.

'Honey... don't worry so much. It doesn't look on you. I'll be fine.'

"Alright."

The two kissed passionately, holding on longer than normal. When they separated, Luke still her arms gently.

"Good luck."

'I'll be back soon.'

She walked away, with renewed swagger. Classic Mara...

WAIT!

STOP!

Sithspawn! This was wrong, this was bad! This shouldn't happen! Only darkness can come from this...

"MARA! Wait!! Stop!!"

The Jedi Master turned around, looking back to her husband... but with a blank look in her eye. It was like she was looking at a stranger on the Corellian street, not the Jedi master with whom she'd spent a quarter of her life.

'Who... are you...?'
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"MARA!"

Luke snapped out of the meditation with a start, screaming his wife's name. He looked around, grabbing at his robes, until he found his wife's old lightsaber. Her first as a Jedi- the one he'd given her. It had been his first, as well, back when Obi-Wan and Yoda had forged him as a tool with which to kill the Empire. She hadn't used it for years, but it still bore her presence...

A lightsaber, a Jedi's lightsaber, was more than a piece of metal, a circuit, and a crystal. The Jedi who wielded it attuned himself to it, allowing the force to flow through herself and the weapon- making the sabre a living part of it's wielder.

When Mara had died, the presence in that lightsaber had gone out.

Now... Luke's heart almost stopped. When he felt the force in the lightsaber, he could feel it. A glimmer, like a candle which had been blown out but was still smouldering- but it was there.

Mara was alive.

But weak. Or was she? Maybe she was just far away, or... a million possibilities flashed through Luke Skywalker's mind, none of which interested him at all. One though alone consumed him, as he threw on his clothing and robes and ran from his quarters.

His wife lived.

All that mattered was finding her.

After having walked some 20 minutes to reach a small café in the busy centre of Corellia, Mara had noticed quite a few things. Many people, men and women alike, turned to look towards her as she walked, transfixed by her movement. At first she had attributed this to the men only and dismissed it as a sexual act, however when both women and children joined in she became a little skeptic of this theory.

“Can I help you, miss?”

She looked up from the data pad she was browsing through, slipping it quickly back into the satchel before flashing the waiter a smile.

“Yeah, just bring me whatever the locals drink,” she said casually, carrying confidence in her tone. The blue skinned waiter returned her warm look, holding his gaze with hers for some brief seconds. He blinked, turning away with a nervous laugh as he walked away to get her order.

Mara’s gaze wandered then, passing over the patrons slowly. As her eyes roamed the faces of the various customers she could feel pangs of energy tweaking at her mind. Each person seemed to give a different feeling – soft sometimes, others an aching throb. She quickly darted her eyes downwards away from those who gave such a reaction as some of the more darkly clad people, sighing inwardly.

Where would she go after this? She didn’t know. Maybe fate would guide her somewhere – maybe some mysterious being would lead her off into the horizon. She wanted some questions answered, but she did not know the location of the ones who could give her those answers. So, until she did, she would drift. From bar to bar, club to club, each night moving farther west across the cities.

Luke stared at the hologram projected by the public holocomm booth for a moment. His mouth hung open wide, disbelievingly, as the blue skinned alien nodded. Kran Lilt had always been a good friend of Luke's; given the news he bore, it looked like Luke was about to become much friendlier with him.

"Kran, you're serious?"

'Of course, Master Skywalker. She walked in here, not ten minutes ago, out of the blue- as if nothing ever happened.'

The Jedi Master shook his head, reaching inside the folds of his black robes. Pulling out the lightsaber again, he let the Force flow through the two of them, like a perpetual circuit running on the energy of life...

Kran Lilt was right. Mara was closer...

"Thank you, Kran. I'll be over directly. Hold her there! Don't let her leave!"

'Your wish is my desire, Master Skywalker. Hurry... if she really wants to leave, I'll be in no position to hold a Jedi Master.'

"Of course."

Luke cut off the transmission, sprinting outside of the booth. He dashed off the sidewalk, onto the street, almost being struck by a speeder.

"Steady, Luke... calm down. What an end that would have been... Jedi Master who defeated the Empire, killed by speeder."

He quickly flagged down a taxi speeder, leaping in and nodding a hasty greeting to the driver, who smiled a broad- slightly toothless- smile back at him.

'Heya, Masta' Skywalka'! Wheya' to?'

"Quick, quick! Kran Lilt's bar, and fast, by the force!"

'Gotcha, Sir.'

The speeder-cab slowed down and shuddered to a halt in front of the cafe. Luke pondered for a moment, as he lept from the speeder- 'Don't worry 'bout the tab! Glad ta help!'[i]- and sprinted with all the speed his legs and the Force would carry him, if he would really discover his long-lost love here, on Corellia. If she was here all along, why? Why would she go here first, and not contact him?

The questions fluttered out of his mind as he reached for the door handle...[i]

The café provided little; if no, entertainment for her and its quirks grew dull are only some 20 minutes or so. Still though she sat sipping on the ale the waiter had brought her, enjoying the rather rough taste of the local’s favorite. It kept her in a state of semi-intoxication, as once she was just about to become totally drunk the ale would run dry and another would be needed - which meant about an hours wait with service that came from the non-local tenders, who’s only language appeared to be either a mixture of grunts or gurgles, mixed in with some foreign tongue.

It seemed someone was in a hurry to get a drink. The man in black pushed into the bar and immediately caught Mara’s attention, his nervous air drawing the gaze of many of the more steady customers. It was not only this that made her look to him, but something in her mind clicked as he entered. It was similar to when she had looked at the patrons – each gave a presence off, an aura of sorts, and this man oozed one such aura that she felt drawn to for some inexplicable reason.

Turning quickly away from the man to avoid embarrassment, she looked down into her ale and continued to read the daily news reports for Corellia.

There she was... Mara Jade, the former smuggler. Jedi Master. Luke's wife. A small tear welled up in one of Luke's eyes, which he promptly wiped away; tears weren't something Mara liked seeing. She chastise him for it...

Luke really had thought he'd lost her. After all that time, and all those adventurous obstacles, he'd thought it was over. And now...

There she was.

Luke walked up behind his wife. Hadn't she noticed him? Along with everyone else in the cafe, she'd turned around when he had entered. Why had Mara looked away? It didn't really matter... maybe she was up to something.

He tapped her on the shoulder, and, startled, she whipped around to fix him with a stare. Luke smiled down warmly, and as his eyes met Mara's...

The Jedi Master's blood ran cold.

It was the unknowing, vaguely familiar stare from the dream- Mara's eyes stared at him as if he was just an acquaintance from a political event.

"M-mara....?"

Out of the corner of her eye she could see him approaching. Now wishing she hadn’t looked at him in the first place, she stared intently down into her glass.

“M-mara....?”

Unable to contain her curiosity, she looked up quickly at him. Her eyes locked with his uncomfortably as she stared up at him, trying to register whether she’d met him on her travels to the café. He didn’t seem familiar, yet he did. It was an unusual feeling to have inside, and she didn’t like it at all.

“Who are you and how do you know my name?”

She never was one for small talk. Blunt and to the point had always worked well for her.