XJedi 2
Chapter 3
"Brother, Can You Spare A Dime?"

by JackeeC, Gheorghe2 and ginef (all at @aol.com)

DISCLAIMERS:  see Chapter 1


*****************************
Chapter 2 "Brother, Can You Spare A Dime?"
*****************************

Washington DC
Haines Point Golf Course
Thursday 8:15 AM 

	They made their long way on foot.  At first the walk had been 
pleasant, if a bit smelly.  Water, birds, boats, people standing in lovely, very 
green grass swinging sticks and chasing little white balls.  Confounding, but 
certainly not unpleasant.
	A horrendous noise wrung the serenity to crashing DC reality when a 
dilapidated Ford nearly ran them over as it sped past on the nearby road. 
	"What a wonderful smell you've all discovered," Mara commented, 
wrinkling her nose distastefully as the group was enveloped by a noxious 
blue cloud spewed from the passing Ford.  "What the hell do they use for a 
propulsion system on this ball?"
	"Internal combustion run with fossil fuels," Han answered.
	"Rancor spit--no wonder it stinks so bad here!" Mara exclaimed 
critically.  "The least they could do is give it a decent shape.  I've seen 
enough--take me back to Tatooine."
	Luke pointed out the parking lot of the Haines Point Golf Course, 
"They are called 'cars,' and come in lots of different shapes and sizes."
	Leia was consulting the tiny pocket translator she had stashed in her 
pocket, trying to make out the letters affixed to the rear of the Ford that 
spelled "Graduate of Star Fleet Academy."  Showing the translation to her 
husband, she asked "Do you suppose they have developed more 
spacefaring capability since we were last here?"  
	Han agreed that the literal reading would seem to indicate as such, 
but, "Artoo and the Urmari chron computer both indicated that not even a half 
of a rotational year has passed.  There's no way they could have developed 
true space flight in that time."
	Mara had, in the meantime, strode off the path, making a straight line 
for the golf club parking lot and the red Mazda Miata convertible parked 
there.  "This," she announced with satisfaction, "Suits me very well.  Do you 
think I could try piloting one?"  Luke had joined her, he admiring a black 
Porsche 940, with its sunroof popped up.  He thought one of these would be 
more fun than that big van he had piloted before.  He was speculating on 
aerodynamics when the activities on a flat, smooth piece of grass adjacent 
to the lot attracted his attention.    
	A man in very bright, clashing clothing of various patterns and colors 
was standing in the middle of the green patch, wielding a metal rod with a 
knob on the end and very carefully aiming and trying to hit a small white ball 
into a cup buried in the ground 3 or 4 meters away.  Seeing Luke's 
preoccupation, Mara joined him, asking conversationally, "What's he 
doing?"  The golfer irritably shushed them and returned to his game, missing 
his putt for the fifth time.  He scowled at the observing couple and lined up his 
shot again.  The sixth time the ball contacted the head of his putter and 
unerringly arrowed into the cup.  The golfer celebrated with a little jig for joy.  
	Luke turned back to Han and Leia, Mara trailing, chuckling at the 
man's glee in sinking a putt, ignorant of the merits of a Jedi Knight as a golf 
caddy.  
	Leaving the park, they walked far too closely for comfort past the 
hundreds of vehicles careening across the river in the madness that was the 
DC morning rush hour.  Over and past them, the cars flew, pouring into the city 
on the right.  The four aliens made their way toward the cluster of looming 
buildings, Leia puzzling out the signs for Holocaust Museum, Bureau of 
Engraving and Printing and the massive Department of Agriculture.   

*	*	*	*
	Mara, Luke, Han and Leia stood on the corner of Independence and 
14th Street, each facing a different direction, like four points on a compass. 
They were utterly lost and completely confused.  
	"Credits," Mara said. "We need credits."  
	"They call it money here," Leia corrected.  
	"Money," Mara repeated, turning the strange word over on her 
tongue. "Any idea how we can get some?"  
	"Maybe," Han said, as he spied a bizarre looking glass booth 
across the street.  He began moving across the very busy street, ignoring 
the flashing red DO NOT WALK sign and was very narrowly flattened by a 
Washington Metropolitan Transit Authority bus belching black diesel fumes.  
A combination of Force and physical grasps brought him back to the safety 
of the curb.    
	"I think," Leia lectured, "In international language, red means stop 
and green," she paused looking at the WALK sign and the now idling cars, 
"Means go."  She stepped out cautiously into the cross walk, Han grumbling 
behind in her wake.  
	Interested in the pecuniary aspects of this place, Mara joined Han's 
assault on the Atlantic Bell phone booth.  "I think," Han explained, pointing to 
the odd metal box stuck on the wall of the glass stall, "We can find some 
money in here."  
	"Oh? And just how do you plan on getting it out," Mara asked, joining 
him in the booth.   
	"I have yet to find a contraption on any planet, in any galaxy that I 
haven't been able to jimmy," Han said smugly, as he pulled out a tiny multi-
tool and set to work.   
	Mara laughed. "This I have to see," she said, crossing her arms in 
front of her. She watched in silence for a moment before asking, "What in 
space is this thing anyway?"  
	"I think it's called a phone, it functions like a comlink," Leia said, 
joining them in the booth. "But both Mulder and Dana had smaller ones that 
they carried around in their pockets. I don't know why anyone would need 
such a big one."  
	"Maybe it's for intergalactic transmissions," Mara offered.  
	Han laughed. "Yeah, right. Just going to their little moon is a HUGE 
undertaking for these people."  
	Mara pursed her lips and looked over Leia's shoulder at Luke, who 
was intently watching a man making his way down the street emptying 
something out of the posts that lined the walkway. "What's the farmboy 
doing?" she asked Leia.  
	Leia shrugged.  "I'm not sure."  They watched Luke approach the 
man and have a brief  conversation.  Suddenly the man handed Luke 
several of the small cloth bags that contained whatever it was he was 
emptying from those odd looking posts.   
	Luke turned and headed toward them, in a hurry, but pretending not to 
be hurrying.  "Let's go," he hissed, shoving sacks into his jump bag.   
	The other three fell in behind him beating a quick exit.  They followed 
Luke around the corner, and nearly plowed into the back of him when he 
stopped abruptly.  
	"Blast it, Skywalker. Ever heard of brake lights?" Mara snapped.   
	Luke shot her an annoyed glance but didn't comment. Instead he 
pulled the bags out again and divyed up the coins between them. "Stash 
these in your pockets." he said.   
	"This is money?" Han was incredulous.  "You'd think they'd come up 
with something more portable."  
	"Excuse me, Jedi Skywalker, but could it be that you used the Force 
to coerce that poor man out of his money?" Leia attempted to scold, but was 
unable to hide the amusement in her voice.  
	"I... well... yes I did," he admitted. "But it wasn't his money. He was just 
emptying it from those posts. People have to pay the government to park 
their ships, err cars along the road. So, I didn't really take money from him..." 
His voice trailed off.  
	Any further justification the Jedi galaxy scout might have offered for 
his pilfering was lost in the amazement they all shared on beholding an 
astounding spectacle.  In another burst of black diesel fumes that left them all 
choking, a silver behemoth of a transport rumbled to a stop on the road 
where they were standing.  Leia made out the words "Holiday Tours" on the 
side of the bus and was able to share her conclusions before people began 
pouring out.  
	Big people, men and women of varying ages and children all 
dressed in eye squinting neon colors, carrying lumpy brightly colored 
knapsacks strapped to their backs and around their ample midsections, 
stumbled out of the bus, staring and wandering aimlessly, much like the four 
aliens from outer space.  Leia noticed that many of them had little insignias 
on their clothing that said "Land's End," "LL Bean," and "St. Stanislaus 
Dubuque, Iowa Fall Excursion."  On beholding the sight, Mara muttered with 
disgust, "Tourists." In this universe or the next, tourists all looked exactly the 
same, right down to the fanny packs.    
	The neon-clad tourists were indeed a shocking contrast to the black, 
white and grey clad aliens.  The somber attire would lead the unknowing to 
the conclusion that the aliens were all either color blind, or ignorant as to the 
merits of Perwinkle and Raspberry Polar Tec outerwear and LL Bean and 
Land's End Catalog shopping.    
	Many of the St. Stanislaus contingent were clutching pieces of paper 
and old fashioned books.  Han whispered something to Leia and Luke, and 
the twins made their way to a friendly looking middle aged woman wearing a 
T-shirt which if they had understood English, would have translated as 
"Dubuque, home of mighty fine ham."    
	After a brief conversation the pleasant parishioner surrendered her 
map and DC Access tour book to the Jedi.  They returned none too soon, 
barely in time to defuse a ruddy, sweaty man asking Mara loudly, "Were you 
on the bus?  Do you know where the Mall is?"  A woman behind him whined, 
"If this is the Mall, where are the stores?"   
	Remembering that low profile was the order of the day, Mara did, at 
first, attempt politeness.  The ear translators they all wore permitted them to 
comprehend English, but of course, the English speaker had to be wearing 
the translator to understand the response in Basic.  Mara answered Mr. and 
Mrs. Dubuque in Basic, assuming that they would then realize that she had 
not joined them on the Holiday Tours Fall Excursion to the Nation's Capitol 
and had no idea where or what the "Mall" was.  "I don't understand," she 
explained with ebbing patience, "I don't speak your language."    
	The man was all amazement, "Margaret, look here, this pretty thing 
doesn't speak English."  Mara bristled at the term.  Pretty things in her 
experience, were unlikely to be trained assassins.  He spoke more loudly, 
"WHEEEREE AREEEEE YOUUUUUU FROMMMMMM?" drawing out each 
word as if volume and speed would bridge the language barrier.    
	Mara yelled back, "I'm not deaf.  I just don't speak your language."  
	The others interceded before it became ugly, pulling Mara away as 
Leia muttered apologies in several languages to the florid couple.  Mara 
was demonstrating her own linguistic mastery of curses as they hastily fled 
from the St. Stanislaus tour group.    
	Luke being busy calming an irate Mara, Han took the point, herding 
the group down the path, "We need to find the Federal Bureau of 
Investigation."    
	Leia asked, "I'm open to suggestions."  She saw Han track the 
dowdy, brilliantly clad tour group from Dubuque filing down a moving ramp 
underneath a sign that said "Smithsonian Metro."    
	Han gave a jerk of his head, "I say we follow the tourists."     
	They headed down the moving stair, the coins in their pockets 
jingling all the way.  At the base of the escalator, Luke once again stopped 
too quickly, gazing about in wonder at the strange place and nearly causing 
another accident as friend and stranger alike smacked into him from behind.  
Leia grabbed her brother firmly by the elbow, propelling him and guiding the 
others to a corner with what suspiciously looked like a grid map.  Spelling out 
"Smithsonian" and "You are Here," they were able to decipher where they 
were and then once again parsing out "FBI" were able to locate the J. Edgar 
Hoover building.    
	As the others deciphered how to get from here to there, Luke was 
watching the sightseers, the station reverberating occasionally with the 
sounds of passing transports.  In the dimness, the tourists' clothing did not 
pain his eyes as much.  Seeing several people with what he thought were 
hand held vid recorders, he asked Leia, "Why do you suppose they are 
taking vid recordings of stationary dark objects?"    
	Leia was as mystified as he was.  Why would a tourist want a video of 
things that did not move?  
	As Mara and Han continued arguing, Luke and Leia took the more 
useful approach of watching the other people in the station purchase fares 
from machines and move through turnstiles to waiting transports.  The tourists 
were having tremendous difficulty with the task, getting stuck in the turnstiles 
and beating the ticket vending machines with frustrated fists.  
	Mara's voice could be heard over the din, "I'm telling you, it's not that 
far, we either walk, or go to L'Enfant Plaza to catch a Yellow line train and get 
off at Archives."  Han was objecting, contending in Basic that they should 
take the Orange or Blue Line to Metro Center, transfer to the Red Line to 
Gallery Place and then transfer to the Yellow Line then get off at Archives.  
"We'll just get lost again," Mara insisted.     
	Han countered, "If we can find our way here from a galaxy away, we 
can find our way to 9th Street and Pennsylvania."
	It was time to take control of the escalating situation.  Thinking she 
had the best grasp of English and gifted with her diplomatic skills, Leia 
slowly approached a uniformed man assisting a voluble couple dressed in 
vibrant Land's End Tangerine and Columbine with matching fanny packs.  
Luke gave her a little nudge through the Force for reassurance, which she 
returned with a curse he would rather not repeat.   
	"Hello, I would like to be going the FBI please," she said, secretly 
pleased with how well she was doing.   
	"How many?"  
	How many? Leia's mind swirled with the possibilities of what that 
meant.  Obviously well accustomed to lost, non-English speaking tourists, 
the guard escorted her to the ticket machines.  "How many people are going 
with you?"  
	Leia smiled and held up four fingers, hoping it was indeed a 
universal gesture and not an obscene symbol.  With her other hand, she 
clutched valiantly at the coins now slipping through her fingers.  As a trickle of 
quarters and dimes began to fall, Luke pushed forward through the throng to 
rescue his sister and their only source of cash.  Obviously irritated with the 
pennies from heaven, the guard took the coins from Leia and began 
inserting them into the machines, handing Leia four fare cards and showing 
on their map, where to go.  Leia and Luke mumbled thanks and retreated to 
the arguing smugglers.    
	Leia triumphantly produced the cards, "We go one stop to Federal 
Triangle."   
	For people who navigated well in space, the labyrinth system that 
was the District of Columbia Metro system nearly defeated them.  Studying 
the map and the location of the FBI building, Han was the first to comprehend 
that they were going in the wrong direction when their train exited the tunnels 
and proceeded across the Potomac River and into the State of Virginia.  
Getting off the train at the Pentagon Metro station and changing directions, 
the trip could have been much more abbreviated, and very entertaining for 
all concerned if any of the crisply efficient members of the U.S. Armed 
Forces milling around had any clue as to the true identity of the arguing 
foreigners.        J. Edgar Hoover Building FBI Headquarters 11:21 AM    
	Mara stood staring down at the huge emblem on the ground of this 
very odd lobby wondering what it said.  Attempting to sound out the 
unfamiliar words, she assumed it said "Federal Bureau of Investigation."  
Han, Luke and Leia were lining up with a herd of garishly dressed and loud 
sightseers for the "Inside the FBI Tour."  For Mara, tours were an anathema, 
designed for those people content with placid, sidelined existences.  Luke, 
however, had not been able to sense Mulder and Scully anywhere in the 
building -- and looking for their offices while on the tour, regardless of how its 
tacky complacency offended Mara's own more action-oriented sensibilities, 
was the best means to locating the agents.      
	Han and Leia had already cleared the odd metal gate contraption in 
the building's lobby.  Some type of security screening Mara figured.  Leia 
had insisted they all go unarmed, explaining that most of the people they had 
met before did not wander about toting weapons.  Which was another reason 
why Mara was peeved.  She felt naked without her familiar blaster; worse 
even for if the need arose, she could do without clothes.  The blaster was the 
essential accessory without which no outfit was complete.  Her blaster went 
with everything, daytime or evening, any season, never a concern for mixing 
browns and blacks or gold and silver, or summer fabrics with winter weights -
- more versatile than the little black dress, and far more practical.  
	Playing the rear guard, Mara watched as Skywalker placed his flight 
bag through the scanning device at the security check point.  She could not 
imagine that the technology here would be so primitive as to be unable to 
detect the light sabers, heavy blasters and the odd thermal detonator or two 
tossed into the bag for good measure.  And sure enough, there was a loud 
beeping and a rather large, heavily armed guard suddenly became very 
interested in both Skywalker and the bag.  She sidled over, waiting for their 
prearranged, get the hell out of here signal, but Luke was very calmly talking 
his way out of the jam in that soft, annoying Jedi voice of his.  "You don't need 
to look in bag."    
	"I don't need to look in bag," the guard repeated as if catatonic.    
	"We can go to our tour," Luke said.  
	"You can go to your tour."  
	Luke turned and gave her a wink --  the smugness almost enough to 
make her commit to a lifetime of Jedi training just to be able to wipe that 
goofy grin off his face.    
	Mara cleared security and she and Luke hustled down the corridor to 
catch up to Han and Leia.  They all lagged a bit behind the tour, scanning for 
a way to break off from the larger group, but the FBI had evidently planned 
for such contingencies as wayward sightseers.  Looking over her shoulder 
for an open door or stairwell, Leia plowed right into a tall, neatly dressed 
balding man.  She mumbled sorry's and excuse me's in several languages, 
including English.    
	The man smiled, and said, "No problem. You looking for 
something?"       
	Leia smiled in return and with Luke subtle prompting, acted on the 
impulse, "a friend who does working here."  
	"Who is it, I may know the person."  
	"Dana Scully or Fox Mulder."    
	With the man's face twisting into a sour and skeptical frown, Luke 
stepped forward next to Leia, saying carefully, "We meet before Walter 
Skinner."   
	Staring down at the two polite, confused foreigners, Skinner suddenly 
did recognize the man from that bizarre week over four months ago.  He 
grunted, "Sure.  Scully and Mulder are in the basement with their beloved X 
Files."  Skinner pointed, launching into lecture mode, "Your tour starts down 
there.  Better get going.  Ask the guard afterwards and if Scully or Mulder are 
here, the guard will call down and they can come and get you.  Despite what 
Mulder might have said, we'll haul you into the street if you try wandering 
around this building unescorted."  He did not care if these creepy foreigners 
only understood every other word.  From their expressions, they clearly got 
the message.  Skinner turned smartly and headed down the hall, profoundly 
irritated at yet another reminder of his wayward agents.  
	"Thank you!" both Leia and Luke called out to Skinner's retreating 
back.   
	They hurried away to catch Han and Mara, who were none to happy 
at being herded into a large room lined with long padded benches.  As Luke 
moved next to Mara, Leia slipped next to Han on the bench whispering, 
"They work in the basement."  
	Han arched an eyebrow in surprise, muttering, "Basement?"  
	Leia nodded, having come to a similar conclusion. "I wonder if 'being 
in the basement' has the same negative connotation here as on Coruscant."  
	A man took to the stage and introduced himself as Agent Keelor.  He 
proceeded to go through the rules of the tour... stay with your guide, don't 
touch anything, no photographs, yada, yada, yada. Han was already starting 
to fidget, there was something about rules being laid out that simply did not 
sit very well with the former smuggler.  Rules, as he saw it, existed solely for 
the fun in breaking and bending them.  He was only slightly relieved as the 
group was divided into smaller ones and ushered out of the room packed 
cheek to jowl with obnoxious tourists and their fanny packs and vid 
recorders.  Of one mind, all four were scanned the room and every exit, 
looking for a way out of the tour from hell.  
	After an interminable wait of all of 15 minutes, Agent Cuddy 
introduced herself as their guide, and began leading them through the history 
of the FBI and someone called J. Edgar Hoover.  The four aliens did not 
understand the humor in the pointed questions about Mr. Hoover's penchant 
for women's clothing.    
	The tour improved with the explanation of the FBI's 10 Most Wanted 
display.  Han and Mara were enthralled.  Engrossed in the photographs of 
the fugitives, this was one bit of alien culture they were eager to import to their 
own universe.  They were still arguing over who among their mutual 
smuggling acquaintances should be so honored, when the group moved on 
to the forensics lab.   
	The lab was interesting, if the study of ancient and primitive cultures 
could be so called.  Hanging back, and failing to get very excited about ho 
hum, DNA testing, blood stains and fur and fibers, Agent Cuddy kept trying to 
draw her four rather reluctant and bored foreigners into the discussion.    
	Their disinterest gave way to rapt attention at the gun repository.  So 
many intriguing ways to conceal fire arms.  Luke had never seen Mara so 
animated as when she got a look at a gun that doubled as walking stick.  
She was whispering to Leia how she was going to incorporate the design 
into a customized blaster when Han saw their opening.  Agent Cuddy was 
ushering the group down an escalator to something called the firearms 
demonstration.  After his last experience with just such a weapon, Han was in 
no hurry to be in close proximity to one again.   Catching Luke's eye, Han 
dawdled at the top of the escalator with Leia and Mara. Luke reached out, 
briefly distracting Agent Cuddy and the other tourists as Mara, Leia, and Han 
slipped quickly away, down the corridor.  Once they were clear, Luke 
released his hold on the FBI agent and her tour, and quickly joined the others 
at the end of the hallway.  
	Leia pointed to what seemed to be the turbo lift, "I think we should 
take that down to the lowest floor. I think that's where we'll find Dana and Fox."  
She pushed the button with an arrow pointing down, and they waited a few 
tense moments while the lift took its sweet and slow time to arrive.  Crowding 
in, another argument then erupted over which button to push.    
	"Well, obviously it's the one on the bottom," Mara was saying as the 
door slid closed.   
	"I think it's his one," Han countered, "that's the symbol for 'one' and 
the basement should be on the first floor."   
	Leia sighed and leaned forward, elbowing her contentious 
companions out of the way to push the button marked "B."  With the sound of 
grinding gears, the lift began to descend.    
	"Now why'd you do that, your highness?"  Han asked amused at 
what was to him rather misplaced confidence.    
	"Trust me," his wife said with a grin.    
	Han laughed, "Always sweetheart.  But if you're wrong this could be a 
real short trip."  
	Luke's finger was poised over a red button, "What do you suppose 
this one does?"     
	Mara slapped his finger away.  "Geez Skywalker, you're like a little 
kid who's gotta play with all the toys.  Red in any language, in any culture 
means stop, bad or danger.  Regardless, don't push it."  His retort never 
came, for the lift lurched to a very uncomfortable stop and after a long pause, 
and the collective holding of breath, the doors slowly slid open to reveal a 
dark and grim hallway, confirming that indeed, being in the basement was 
one universal invariant.

*	*	*	*
14th Street Bridge Washington DC 11:45 AM   

	Mulder was lost in his own thoughts as they drove back into DC. 
Ironic that he'd always considered his so-called "spookiness" as a curse, 
another way that he was different from everyone else. Although he'd hated it, 
he hadn't hesitated to use it as the foundation of the barrier he'd constructed 
between himself and the rest of the world.  And now that it was gone, he found 
he could barely function without it. Only one person had ever been able to 
breach that barrier. A quick sideways glance at the very perpetrator showed 
that she was still on the phone trying to find a way to put the pieces of his life 
back together. Right now that meant arranging testing for the others she and 
Mulder had visited over the past couple of weeks. They both knew what 
those tests would show, but they still needed to be done. He turned his 
attention back to the road and his mind to his own thoughts. "Isn't it nice to be 
suddenly so highly regarded." That was the first thing he'd ever said to her, 
followed in his next breath with the accusation that she'd been sent to spy on 
him. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly as he mused that rewriting 
Einstein had been the least of what he'd seen Agent Scully accomplish over 
the past three years. Sneaking another peek at his partner he noted he'd 
been right. It was nice to be so highly regarded.   
	Scully finished up just as they were approaching the J. Edgar Hoover 
building. "Mulder," she said softly. "We'll get to the bottom of this, I won't stop 
until we do."  
	Mulder pulled the car into a parking spot and turned off the ignition. 
Despite himself, he believed her. "I know," he said.   
	As they got out of the car Scully said, "I'm hungry. How about you?"  
	Mulder nodded. "Yeah. You want me to go to Joe's and pick up 
sandwiches?" he asked as they walked toward the entrance.   
	"No, I'll go. You want the usual?"  
	"Sure."  
	"Okay, see you in a bit," she said and headed off in the direction of 
their favorite deli.   
	"Hey, Scully," he called after her. She stopped and turned around.  
"Thanks." By her smile he could tell she knew he meant not just for the 
sandwich.   

*	*	*	*
	They paused so long, the doors began sliding shut again, before 
Mara wedged her body across the threshold and then stepped into the 
hallway.  Luke did a quick Force reconnaissance, announcing softly, "I don't 
think there's anyone down here."    
	With that all clear, they fanned out, checking doors and signs and 
directories.  Guided by the Force, or maybe just the trail of dust on the floor, 
Luke located a door at the end of the hall emblazoned with symbols forming 
the names "Fox Mulder" and "Dana Scully."  Sending a mental message to 
his sister, she, Han and Mara quickly joined him at the doorway.  This time 
Han was right; although the door was locked, the mechanism was no match 
for his formidable skills with things forbidden and closed.    
	Forcing the door gently open, the four slipped in, then stood in 
stunned silence looking at the chaos in the room.  The walls were covered 
with photographs, the desks and every other available space with books, 
files and a variety of strange equipment.  Perhaps not polite, but very 
curious, they spread out to investigate the fascinating clutter, finding it far 
more interesting than the tour.  
	They all jerked in surprise at the torrent of curses gushing from Mara.  
"Karrde's a dead man." she swore through clenched teeth.  She was staring 
at what most improbably, seemed to be a photograph of an Urmari space 
ship.   
	 
	"What the hell are they doing with a pic of an Urmari saucer?" Han 
asked, wondering why they parted with 18 million credits for something they 
could have purchased off the lot on Earth.  
	Leia was studying the photograph, trying to make out the words 
around it.  "I... want... to... believe..." she said slowly and furrowed her brow as 
she attempted the translation.  She finally pronounced her verdict, "I think it 
has something to do with believing in the existence of such a craft."  
	Mara swore again. "Of course such craft exist.  We came here in one.  
Karrde took us but good--"  
	"I don't think so," Luke interjected, as he examined the other pictures 
adorning the walls.  "Remember, this culture is essentially pre-space flight."  
He pointed at a couple of the photos.  "I think these are photographs people 
have taken of space craft, but that the culture as a whole doesn't believe in 
their existence."  
	Han nodded his agreement as Mara snorted in disgust, "You mean 
these beings are actually egotistical enough to believe they are the only 
intelligence in the universe?"  
	"That's exactly what I'm saying." Luke replied as they all turned back 
to examine the pictures.   

*	*	*	*
	Mulder stalked down the hall to their office, vengeance on his mind.  
He had just run into Skinner, who was demanding the oh so insightful profile 
he was supposed to have been working on.  Mulder had tried stalling, saying 
that he didn't have anything to add and Skinner responded with a very firm 
request for the pleasure of his and Scully's company in Skinner's office at 3 
PM.  Damn.  And then that snide aside about work before play, whatever that 
meant.  Skinner was renowned for neither his humor nor his subtlety and both 
had been lost on Mulder with that comment.    
	What were they going to say to him?  How could they possibly 
explain what had happened to him?  He couldn't explain it himself.  Mulder 
was still considering the extremely unattractive possibilities when he threw 
open the door to his office and nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of 
four people crowded around his desk.  With his sudden arrival, they sprang 
up, all five people instinctively reaching for weapons, whether of the blaster, 
saber or gunpowder variety in a tense standoff.  
	Sharp, loud, tracking his gun across the room, and not liking the 
odds, Mulder belted out, "What are you doing..."  and found he was drawn to 
the slight, blonde man on the left.  Something about him was so familiar... so... 
"Luke," he surprised himself by saying the name out loud.  The spoken 
name swept through the anxious room like a sigh.    
	The petite dark woman also very familiar approached slowly, 
holding out a small shiny device, speaking slowly, "Hello, Mulder."  
	Still training his gun on them, Mulder felt his own anxiety drop by a 
factor of ten or so.  Thinking he should be very threatened, Mulder instead 
felt only trust and calm from these supposedly imaginary people who had 
been invading his and Scully's dreams.  "Leia?" he pronounced tentatively.    
	She nodded with a winning smile, "Yes."  She gestured to her head, 
"translator in ear, see?"  He did, a device like the one in her hand was 
nestled in her right ear.  Mulder took the translator from Leia's palm, and 
inserting it, suddenly understood her in mid-sentence, "..prised that you 
remembered, Mulder.  Are you all right, you seem a little pale."  
	Mulder holstered his gun. "I'm fine.  Scully and I have just been trying 
to convince ourselves that you were a figment of our imaginations. Guess 
this blows that theory out of the water," he finished, grinning wryly.  As the tall 
man stepped forward, Mulder put out his hand to return the warm clasp, "Han, 
right?"    
	"Yeah.  And I guess you already remember Luke."  Mulder nodded, 
wondering why Luke was looking at him so intently, before edging forward to 
exchange an embarrassed hand shake, "I didn't think you would remember 
who we are."    
	"You tried erasing our memories," Mulder accused, more than ever 
disturbed that someone would so presumptively screw with his mind.  Luke 
withdrew startled and abashed, "I'm sorry.  We'll explain all that.  How much 
do you remember?"    
	"Not much, a giant primate, a gold robot ..."   Mulder started.   
	"Chewbacca and Threepio. They're in orbit, hiding out behind your 
moon," Leia explained.  
	"Yeah, they wouldn't exactly be able to travel incognito 'round here," 
Han added.  
	Mulder was barely listening as he fell under the raking scrutiny of the 
fourth person, an absolutely drop dead gorgeous redheaded woman 
hanging back from the others in what he recognized as a classic combat-
ready defensive stance.  In the first second, he wondered if there were Irish in 
their galaxy and in the next second realized he knew only one other woman 
who so clearly communicated danger in the simple way in which she stood.  
She returned his gaped mouthed stare with an aloof and unblinking gaze, 
then abruptly broke off, saying something sharp and unintelligible in Luke's 
direction.  
	Mulder shook his head, pointing to his ear, "I didn't catch that." as 
Luke responded rapidly, again in a language the device did not translate.  
	Han answered, but still followed the conversation between Luke and 
Mara. "You wouldn't.  The translator only converts Basic into English and 
back, they're speaking in Corellian."  
	Something was going on, the frown crossing Han's features and 
Leia's darting glance, quickly schooled into a placid smile, communicating 
some tension or concern.  "What're they..."  Leia interrupted him so smoothly, 
Mulder might not have even known he was being diverted, "I don't believe 
you have met the last member of our group before."  
	No way Mulder thought.  If he had ever met her, the memory would 
have never left him.  She took a confident step forward, hand extended, 
"Mulder," she began in a deep slurring voice, testing the sound of his name, 
"I'm Mara Jade."  
	Dropping Mara's cool, firm hand, Mulder tore his gaze away to focus 
on Luke and Leia, finally to ask the obvious, "What are you doing here?"   
	Leia moved closer, again Mulder feeling that an accord existed 
between them to distract him from some other agenda.  "It seems," Leia 
began, "We left some unfinished business."  Han had joined Luke and Mara 
in a hushed conversation in what Mulder guessed whatever Corellian was, 
as Leia continued calmly, "It's a long story."    
	Mulder sat down heavily on Scully's desk, running a hand through his 
hair, desperately wishing that he could have at least one day that more 
closely resembled that of other FBI agents, "What's the unfinished 
business?"  
	Again, Leia spoke as the others murmured, "We were hoping you 
could help us out with that.  Is Dana around too?"  
	Mulder nodded and reaching for the phone on his partner's desk he 
dialed quickly.  She answered her cell phone on the second ring and he 
could hear the sounds of Joe's in the background.  "Scully," Mulder said, 
pausing for dramatic effect, "They're baaaackkkk."  
	During Mulder's rapid fire conversation with his partner, Han asked 
quickly in Corellian, "You sure?"   
	Luke knew Leia was listening in, even while attentive to Mulder, and 
told Han, "Yes.  Mara picked it up first, but I sense the same thing."    
	Mara injected, "You sure he was before?" Since Luke hadn't 
bothered to think out Adams' role, and had obviously botched the memory 
wipe, she was more than a little skeptical.    
	Luke bristled at her blunt doubt. "Of course I'm sure.  I just can't 
imagine why."     
	Leia answered in his mind, and Han aloud, both voices carrying the 
same heavy dread, "I can."    
	They all followed Luke's glance at the poster of the saucer ship, all of 
one mind.

END--Chapter 3