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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.

IT WAS THE RIGHT DECISION. LUKE KNEW IT THE MOMENT HE OPENED his eyes. He had had another one of those elusive, yet sweet and calming dreams in which the loving female presence had again enveloped him.

It’s time, she had whispered, her breath soft against the back of his neck, her right arm draped over his side, her fingers entwined with his. You need to go to the Maw. Too many fates hinge upon it … yours and Ben’s not the least.

The concern, the love—Luke kept his eyes tightly closed. He breathed in her scent—familiar, cherished. I know. The girl is too dangerous for him. I need to find out what I can about the Sith, and then sever this alliance.

Then go. Go to the Maw.

Luke thought about the time when he had, with the aid of the Mind Walkers from Sinkhole Station, gone to that state they called Beyond Shadows. He had seen his wife there, in the Lake of Apparitions.

Will I see you again, in the Maw?

A gentle nuzzle from behind. Oh yes, my love. You’ll see me again. I am there, and I will be waiting for you. I promise.

And with that, he was instantly, completely, restfully awake. He half wondered, as he always did, if he turned around and reached out, whether he might find the sheets warm.

He rose, got dressed, and went to check on Dyon. The younger man was still unconscious, his face calm and untroubled. It was hard to imagine Dyon screaming and attacking others, but he had not been the first to fall to this strange malady, although Luke desperately hoped he would be the last. Luke checked the drip, the restraints, and Dyon’s stats, then headed out to send a message.

It was early yet, and both Ben and Vestara, with the biological requirements of people their age, were still deep asleep in their respective quarters. Luke breakfasted on something quick and easy, and a scant twenty minutes after he sent the message, he received a reply.

Lando Calrissian looked less immaculate and pulled together than was customary for him. He wore practical and stained work clothing, which told Luke he had probably been working on the Rockhound himself, and a frown, which told Luke that he was not at all happy with Luke’s message.

“Come on, Skywalker,” Lando said without