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“Trying to kill me to comply with the Emperor’s last command.”

“Right. Luke, I’m a fighter. I’ve always been a fighter. The few times when I have been at leisure, I’ve been miserable. I want challenges, I crave them. As nice and peaceful as it was up north here, it lulled me, dulled me, took the edge off. Anakin made it so I had no needs, and Dantooine—before the Yuuzhan Vong—had nothing more dangerous than big thorns to worry about. I was wasting away, trying to conserve my strength, all the while turning away from the means I’d used in the past to tap the Force.”

Mara gazed up into Luke’s eyes, and he could feel their personal bond and connection strengthening. He got past the fatigue to the image of Mara that existed deep in the woman’s psyche. This Mara, strong of limb and sharp of eye, wore armor, sported blasters, and looked like someone who could take a Death Star apart from the inside out.

“That’s who I am, Luke. When Anakin and I had to run, I felt exhausted, physically, but I was stronger in the Force. I was able to repair some of the damage the disease had done. I realized that’s the most insidious nature of the disease. Many people, when they become sick, retreat to their childhood and being helpless. They abandon who they have become and their place in the web that is the Force, then the disease severs those final connections and they die.”

Luke watched for a moment, then frowned. “So you’re telling me that no matter how tired you are, that letting you fight against the Yuuzhan Vong will make you stronger.”

“As long as I’m fighting, I’m not dying.”

He shivered. “I’m not sure I like the cure, but I like the disease less.”

“You’ll let me fight?”

“Despite my being a Jedi Master, I don’t think I could stop you.”

Mara laughed, and the rich sound of her voice poured like balm into Luke’s ears. “Other men could have said that, but none of them would have meant it. I am so glad I found you and didn’t kill you.”

“Both of those things thrill me, too.” Luke glanced at a bulkhead chronometer. “I don’t know when they’ll come, but you might want to sleep until then.”

“I think I’d rather spend the time with my husband.” Mara reached up and grabbed a handful of Luke’s tunic, then pulled his face down to hers and kissed him. “Stay here with me. Tell me a story of Belkadan and a Jedi Master with two blades. Spending time with my husband is the best medicine on Dantooine, and I will gladly take as much as you can spare.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Corran didn’t mind the sting of sand against his face as he stared out toward where the wind had begun to unbury the Dalliance. Stretching out with the Force, he could feel Ganner and Trista deep inside the ship. Though the distance muted their emotions, the fact that he detected anything more than just their presence meant they were probably locked in a charged conversation. Not surprising, since everyone’s mood was charged since the fate of the missing students had become clear. Corran and Ganner had trekked out to the meteorological station and found the place a mess. Supplies had been scattered all over, and four sets of footprints led away from the station. There could be no other conclusion: Vil and Denna had been captured by Yuuzhan Vong warriors.

The scrape of boot on rock focused Corran’s attention back locally. “Yes, Dr. Pace?”

“I hate it when you do that. You could at least look at me.”

Corran glanced back over his shoulder. “Forgive me, but you are a very strong presence in the Force. Besides, your leather-soled boots make a particular sound. Your students wear synthetic soles that are virtually silent.”

The woman pursed her lips, then nodded. “Neat trick that, but I think this mission of yours will take more than tricks. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Corran laughed for a moment, then shook his head. “One of your students, one of the ones captured, accused Jedi of being able to see into the future. Sometimes visions do come, but not for me, not now. I don’t know if what we will do