XJedi 2
Chapter 4
"Feeling Crabby"

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

DISCLAIMERS:  see Chapter 1


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Chapter 4 "Feeling Crabby"
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J. Edgar Hoover Building 
Agent's Entrance
12:40 PM  

	Mulder moved cautiously down the hall toward the back exit of the J. Edgar Hoover building, the foursome of aliens in tow. This route was strictly for agents, but Mulder was friendly with Joe, the security guard, and hoping to sneak them out.  Approaching Joe's desk, Mulder donned his best roguish grin. "Hey, Joe.  How's it going?"  
	The man stepped away from his post, eyeing Mulder and his companions.  "Fine, Agent Mulder.  Who do we have here?" he asked, indicating the visitors with the nod of his head and the arch of a skeptical eyebrow.  
	"Actually, they're aliens from outer space," Mulder replied without missing a beat.  
	Mara's jaw dropped and hand flew up to the tiny translator in her ear.  Either the damn thing was malfunctioning or Mulder's repulsors were off line.  The security guard, however, threw his head back and laughed. "You're as crazy as they say, Mulder."  
	"That's what they tell me."  Mulder leaned over and whispered conspiratorially, "Joe, I need to get these people out of the building without attracting undo attention."  He paused slyly to add, "And there's a pair of Redskins tickets in it for you."  
	Joe awarded Mulder an askance look, considering the offer, then lowered his voice, "But not a word to your partner, right?  She's warned me not to encourage your behavior."  
	"Agent's honor, Joe," he whispered, and hustled his friends out the building and into the garage.  
	The parking garage was a tremendous disappointment to Mara, with none of the flashy cars she had seen before.  What was it with this FBI that they all drove the same bland cars and wore the same dark, drab clothing anyway?  "Why don't you have a red car, Mulder?" Mara accused as the agent fumbled for the keys to his four-door, automatic transmission sedan with sensible upholstery and no CD player.  The most that could be said for Mulder's car was that the Ford brochure had, 6 years ago, described the color as trendy gun metal gray.  
	In response, Mulder dropped his car keys again.  
	Although not befitting her dignity and style, Mara would deign to travel in this vehicle, but on her maiden voyage she would insist upon the best seat in the house, as it were.  She grabbed Luke's shoulder as he was about to climb in the front.  "Into the back, flyboy," she ordered.   
	With a wry grin at the temperamental assassin, and a wink at an apparently terrified Mulder, Luke acquiesced with good humor, joining Han and Leia in the cramped back seat. Mara settled herself in and promptly began fiddling with the buttons on the control panel in front of her, asking the flustered Mulder, "Since I'm the co, what kind of nav and comm do you need, and where are you sensor and weapons arrays?"  
	It was only with the giggles and guffaws from the back seat that Mulder knew he was being had.  With some of his aplomb returning, he replied, "I do all the driving, Jade," surprising himself with how easily the jesting came to him.  For some reason, he knew his next salvo would bother the redhead, "Your job is to look decorative and besides, I don't think your little feet would reach the pedals."  Peals of laughter from the back seat greeted this statement, Luke's the loudest of all.  
	Mara swung back deadly serious, "You like living dangerously, don't you, Mulder?"  
	Not sure he wanted to teeter quite that far on the edge, Mulder decided it was time to get going.  He turned towards Mara and pointed at the seat and shoulder belt, "You need to pull that and," he pointed again down at the seat, "Insert it into that holder."  
	He indicated where the same contraptions could be found in the back seat, and Han, Leia and Luke, used to this arrangement from the last trip quickly complied.  Mara, however, was having more trouble, and Mulder finally leaned over and across her to pull and buckle the seat and shoulder belt.  "Sorry," he muttered, strangely embarrassed.  
	"I'd be careful Mulder," came Luke's warning from the back seat, "Mara eviscerated the last man who tried to do that to her."  
	"I did not," came the sharp retort, "I garroted him." Mulder attempted a weak laugh, some instinct for survival warning him that this was not entirely idle banter, as Han piped in with, "I thought you just cut his arm off, Mara."  
	Mulder felt a slight touch on his shoulder from the back seat, and Leia's soft, tactful voice, "Don't pay any attention to them, Mulder.  Mara hasn't killed anyone in several weeks at least."  
	Great.  Aliens from outer space who happen to be comedians.  Mulder concentrated on getting them out of the morass of DC midday traffic, and providing a running tour of the less attractive sites DC had to offer along New York Avenue from downtown to Route 50.  For the millionth time he wondered why Dana insisted on living 30 miles away in Annapolis. Mulder's attempts to get them started on why they were here and how they managed the trip, were met each time with the same non-responsive response, Leia finally saying after his fifth or sixth attempt, "I know this is difficult, Mulder, but we really should wait until Dana can hear the story too."  
	As the city gave way to the rolling suburbs and farmland of Anne Arundel County, Mara stared resolutely out the car's side window, willing away the nausea to which she would never, ever admit.  She knew some people became wretchedly ill during space flight, and it simply staggered her that she, a veteran of tens of thousands of hours logged in all manner of craft, was close to becoming car sick.  
	Luke asked quietly from the back, "You all right, Mara?"  
	"Fine." she replied shortly, annoyed that he would call attention to her discomfort. "Just wondering why we aren't going faster.  Mulder, an awful lot of cars are passing us."  
	"That's because they're breaking speed limit laws."  
	"So?" came the challenge from both Han and Mara.  
	Exasperated, Mulder sighed, cringing at even the thought of trying to explain his passengers to a Maryland State Trooper.  "Trust me," he said, only to became further mystified when they all erupted with laughter again.  Deciding to deflect the conversation he began jocularly, "So Mara, what brings you to the Milky Way?"   

*	*	*	*
	Mulder pulled into Scully's parking lot, relieved to see her car already in its usual spot. With everyone unfolding from the cramped car, Mulder told his companions, "I'll go up first and tell Scully ..."  The rest of his explanation died on his lips as Scully suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs.  
	"What the hell is going on, Mul--," she stopped mid-sentence, her eyes falling on the four people trailing her partner, and settling longest on Luke's familiar face.  A gamut of emotions washed over her, foremost among them, deep concern as to what had happened before that could now trigger such a strong reaction from her, and like Mulder, vexed anger that she did not have the benefit of an intact memory of the events.  
	Mulder approached a little sheepishly, "I found some nice aliens from outer space and thought I would bring them over to your house."  
	Dana said, low and throaty to him, "It wasn't a dream then, was it?"  
	Mulder shook his head. "No, definitely not."  He handed her a tiny device, "Put this in your ear.  It'll translate what we say to each other."  
	She stared down at the assemblage, "I had almost convinced myself that there was some other explanation and this whole thing was another one of your sick jokes.  Like the annual Eugene Tooms liver and onions extravaganza."  
	Mulder laughed. "Even I couldn't come up with one this bad."  
	As the four ascended the steps hesitantly, Dana settled the device in her ear, quipping, "Mulder, next time just bring a bottle of wine, okay?"  
	Luke came forward first, extending his hand, clearly a little uncomfortable, when he abruptly stiffened, straightening his shoulders and looking cautiously about with wary, darting glances.  By unspoken accord the two women tensed as well.  The petite brunette Dana remembered as Leia and with a pang, she thought the other woman, a redhead, reminded her of Missy.  Leia hissed, "Where are they?"  
	Shaking his head fractionally still not turning around, Luke whispered to Dana and Mulder, "You know you are being watched?"  She exchanged a startled glance with Mulder, Luke's report alarming only because he had made it and the other women had echoed it without apparently even seeing the watchers.  
	Mulder inclined slightly down, saying quickly and quietly, "We get so used to it we tend to forget about them."  
	Dana looked out across the parking lot to the van parked down the street, "It's Thursday, so it must be Stanley."  
	She offered her hand to Luke, "Good to see you again, but..."  Her smile faded to a frown as it occurred to her, "How did you know they were there?"  
	The shake, smile and warm "Hello" he returned were so familiar as to leave Dana with the very uncomfortable sensation that although she had no recollection of such an event, Skywalker obviously remembered something and quite fondly.  Vowing to interrogate him unmercilessly at the first opportunity, Dana further had no intention of suggesting that she similarly harbored warm fuzzy feelings for a space alien when she in fact had no memory of what might have fostered them.  In a subtle reproach, she dropped his lingering hand shake to greet the others "Han... Leia."  
	As she settled on the last and unrecognized member of their group, the woman emitted a smirk of laughter in Skywalker's direction and uttered a quick phrase, that if Scully and Mulder had understood Corellian, would have translated as "What is with you and redheads Skywalker?"  Han and Leia broke into laughter as Luke blushed down to his ears and blonde roots.  
	Ignorant as to the precise translation but guessing as to its import, Mulder came to the rescue, making the introduction, and thinking not for the first time that the similarities were not merely physical, "Scully, this is Mara Jade."  
	"Nice to meet you.  I've heard a lot about you from the farm boy."  
	Dana cocked her head, assuming that the appellation fit only one person.  Luke confirmed it, struggling for some poise.  "That would be me." he injected, the flush returning.  
	"Farm boy?" Dana laughed. "This I have to hear." She looked back down the street at the omnipresent van, "Let's go in.  We've already given Stanley more excitement than he's had in months."  
	Dana led the way with Mulder as rear guard. Holding the door, she waited for them to file into her living room, then once Mulder was in, slammed the door and threw the bolt.  She and Mulder stood, shoulder to shoulder, backs to the door, staring at the aliens from outer space before them.  Impatient from the drive and the delays, Mulder was not in the mood for polite chatter.  Even before their "guests" sat, he demanded, "So, just what is going here?  Why are you back?"  
	As soon as Mulder began the inquisition, Dana found fragments beginning to reassert themselves into larger pieces, "How did you get here without the Gate?"  
	"Gee, Skywalker, you did a brilliant job of suppressing their memories," Mara said, her voice laced with sarcasm.  Leia and Luke had sat next to each other on the couch, primly composed.  Han withdrew slightly from the larger group, drawing a kitchen chair against the wall, positioning himself carefully in the uncomfortable seat, now having a vantage of the room generally, and the front door particularly.  Something like a gym bag, sat open, on the floor at his right hand.  Cautious, Mulder thought, very, very cautious.  
	Conversation was suspended as they all watched Mara pace about.  Measuring out the kitchen, she then strode into the bedroom; they heard her turn on a light in the bathroom, then stalk back out, edging against the wall to peer from behind a blind, out the window at the van.  Dana saw the same things Mulder had -- if Han was cautious, Mara was outright paranoid.  "There's only one of them, isn't there?" she asked in Luke's general direction.  
	"How do you know that?" Scully repeated.  And she had thought Mulder was spooky.  
	Skywalker answered Mara's question first, "Yes, only one."  He paused, slightly vacant, then his presence reasserted itself back into the room, "He was surprised, I think, that you had visitors."  
	Mara demanded with an impatient stamp, "Why are you being watched?"  
	"Because," Mulder began firmly, "From my partner here on up, there are a lot of people who don't believe that you all exist."  
	There was a snort of disgust and murmured muted protest in the room.  Mulder began again, more aggressively, "Jade, you can stand guard until aliens blow up the White House, but I'm tired of the evasiveness from you all.  It's our turn to ask the questions.  You left us in a real bad situation four months ago, obliterated our memories, and now just appear on our door step. We want to know what is going on."  
	Dana added with a pointed glare at Skywalker, "The whole story.  Now."  
	Leia began softly, apologetically, "We apologize for that."  She nodded to her brother, "And are sorry that we had to take away your memory of what happened.  But there were good reasons for what was done.  And our decision to return was not undertaken lightly."  
	With a sharp edge, Mulder said, "You seem to take a lot upon yourselves, and at our expense."  
	Leia continued as if there had been no interruption, "It's as I said before.  In the rush and chaos at the Gate, *we* left some unresolved business."  
	Dana noted noises of disgust and disagreement from both Skywalker and Mara and wondered at the cause.  "What kind of business?"  She shifted uncomfortably under their stares as Solo said quietly from his encampment, "Adams, Benjamin Adams."  
	Both Dana and Mulder erupted at the same time, "Who?"  
	And so Leia told the story as the shadows lengthened across the room.  When she finished, Mulder cast a crooked glance at his pale partner, sitting cross-legged on the floor next to him.  He had long since abandoned his tie and suit coat, all thrown with the casualness of one who made himself at home.  "Scully," he drawled, "You sure know how to pick your boyfriends."  
	"At least he didn't suck blood for a living, Mulder."  
	Mulder's retort was forestalled by the sounds of the television coming on.  Han had become bored during the recitation of the facts for the thousandth time and after some surreptitious canvassing of the room, ostensibly to patrol its perimeter, he located and appropriated the object of his search.  He had remembered from the last trip that there was the remote thing to that vid thing with the 88 different channels of highly questionable entertainment.  Thinking the silence meant the talking was over he activated the remote and the screen of the vid filled with the disreputable image of a bearded man intoning to a rapt audience, "Marriage after sex change operations --- we'll hear from couples who've made the switch after this commercial break."   
	Dana groaned, burying her head in her hand with mortification at explaining Geraldo as Leia hissed, "Han, not now all right?"   
	"Yes, dear." he intoned with a not-at-all repentant grin.  Han had thought the subject would be fascinating but reluctantly, and only after fiddling accidentally on purpose with the volume and channel controls, turned off the vid.  
	Stanley had driven off more than an hour earlier and Mara had, like Han, found her very short patience tried by the tedium.  She had used the opportunity to practice Force skills, attempting to push buttons and flip on switches of the things in the room.  She caught Skywalker's silent reprimand but chose to ignore him.  She had not yet mastered the subtle command required for such delicate movements in the Force and was therefore very surprised when the large machine resting on the desk whirred to life, activated by her unseen prod.  Her elation in the success was in no way diminished by Leia's reproving frown.  "I did it," Mara crowed.  
	Dana and Mulder broke off the re-initiation of their argument to stare at her in amazement.  Mulder stuttered, "How did you do that?"  
	Luke answered with a bemused, and slightly proud smile, "With the Force."  In the hushed room they all heard the click as the computer turned itself off again.   
	Dana glared, "Who did that?"  Three pairs of wide, innocent eyes turned to her, all denying any complicity.  Han and Mulder were for probably the first and only time, the innocents in this escapade.  "You all keep **your** Force away from **my** computer." With no confession forthcoming, and thinking she had reestablished some authority, Dana brought them back to the subject at hand, attempting to make at least the pretense of objectivity, "I still don't understand how on the basis of a simple picture, a" she tested the word, "'holo', you can conclude that Benjamin Adams was related to this Emperor of your's."  
	Mulder answered, not merely suspending his disbelief so much as tossing it wholesale off a cliff, "I can't think of any better explanation Scully.  He got to their galaxy, knew the Palace, knew about the Hinderer.  Those facts by themselves suggest he, at the very least, was from the same place they are and if not a relative of the Emperor, he was at least intimately acquainted with things very few other people knew of.  And they said he was an adept Force user.  We don't have anything like that."  With a thin grin he added, "And if there were a bunch of people throwing Dark Side Force power around, don't you think we would have known about it?" Intent on convincing his partner, neither Mulder nor Scully noticed the ripple of askance glances and downcast eyes that swept the room.  
	It was a simple variation on an argument they had had for years -- what inferences the facts permitted and what wild speculation the facts suggested.  Dana countered, "Even ignoring logic Mulder, we are looking at a chain of events that defy any known laws of probability." Their guests were forgotten as the agents lapsed into their familiar roles and scripts, a respite from revelations shocking even to two people accustomed to the singular, unknown, and unexplained.  
	"Your charms notwithstanding, what do you think the odds are that of all the people on this planet, that an alien from another galaxy would ask you out on a date, Scully?"  
	She hesitated, not wanting to go where Mulder was dragging her.  "Come on Scully," he cajoled again, "What kind of odds are we talking about?"  
	Dana said reluctantly, "It's either wildly, impossibly improbable, or-"  
	Mulder finished, "Deliberate."  
	"What do you mean?" Skywalker asked, perhaps with more interest and intensity than he had intended.  
	When Dana answered only with a severe stare, Mulder said soberly, "If you tried telling your tale to practically anyone else, they would have you arrested and committed as criminally insane."  With a gentle expressive squeeze to Dana's arm, he continued, quietly, "My partner and I have made a lot of enemies.  You're right Scully, the improbabilities are too great.  Adams was probably a plant, to find out through you how much we know."  
	She resisted, "Mulder are you actually suggesting some kind of conspiracy between Cancer Man, the Consortium, Benjamin Adams, and their Emperor?"  
	Mulder wagged a knowing finger at his doubting partner, "Don't forget the second gunman on the grassy knoll, the colonists and the mighty morphing bounty hunters from outer space."  
	In a rush of anxious voices, Mara, Skywalker and the Solos all responded as one, "Bounty hunters?"  
	Scully's attention now diverted from her errant partner, she arched a knowing eyebrow, crossing her arms across her chest to gaze at her visibly shaken houseguests. "Perhaps Agent Mulder, there is still more that our *friends* are withholding."  
	"Not very considerate of them, is it?"  
	They all turned to Leia, by implicit agreement, the tactician for this outing.  "What do you know about bounty hunters from," she gave the last words an ironic twist, "Outer space?"  
	Now Scully gave a grimace of distaste, "Aliens are Mulder's specialty."  
	Mulder began warming to one of his favorite topics, rubbing his hands to together he leaped into the tale of the colonists and the bounty hunters that plagued them. He finished with, "Soooo, we showed you ours, now you show us your's."  
	With an encouraging nod from her husband and a mental caution from her brother, Leia resolved to tell the story, albeit by halves.  She began with a seeming non sequitur, "Those holos in your office, of the space craft, where did you get them?"  
	Surprise rendered Mulder momentarily inarticulate, "Different places.  They're generally disregarded as myth."  He started in surprise at a rude guffaw from Mara's direction.  
	Han stood and walked to the couch to place a supportive hand on his wife's shoulder, "We think the holos, pictures, are of ships belonging to a race from our galaxy known as the Urmari."  Here he hesitated, uncertain how much further to proceed.  
	Leia continued speaking harshly, "The Urmari are pariah, outcasts."  She made the revelation in a more measured tone, "They also have intergalactic space faring capability.  We came here in an Urmari craft nearly identical to the one on your office wall, Mulder."  
	Scully and Mulder blinked in amazement; although Mulder was a true apostle to the cause, and even Scully was occasionally forced to see the less rational explanations for the bizarre things she had experienced in Mulder's company, neither was fully prepared for so blunt a confirmation.  Both were stupefied that the pictures, acknowledged only by crazed and dazed believers and vociferously negated by every other rational and authoritative person in their acquaintance, should suddenly be so validated.  
	After a few moments of stunned silence, Scully finally stammered, "Yet another bizarre coincidence, but what does that have to do with the bounty hunters we have," she gave Mulder an askance glance, "*Supposedly* encountered."  
	Mulder argued, "No supposition about it, Scully."  
	Han picked up the tale, "None of us have ever seen an Urmari.  We know them only by reputation, but that's bad enough.  They are known foremost as ..."  Han paused before finishing with hushed drama, "As bounty hunters."  
	Leia looked carefully at the numbed agents, "So you see, that you two are also acquainted with a race of alien bounty hunters is perhaps yet another coincidence, but..." She trailed off, there was no need to complete what they all were thinking.  
	Silent through virtually all of the tale for the last few hours, Luke finally spoke, "The Emperor had extensive dealings with the Urmari.  If they are here ..."  
	Mara interrupted him, harsh and brittle, "They're here.  We know they're here, Skywalker."  
	Luke nodded with weary acquiescence, "When we started this, the only thing we knew was that Adams might be related to Palpatine.  We didn't even know about the Urmari.  But, finding out they are here, well, it's no great leap to assume that Palpatine's son or grandson is here too and probably with them."  
	Dana still felt that some part of the tale was missing.  "In all of this long winded explanation you have never explained one thing."  
	Mulder nodded, "Why?"  
	As four quizzical faces turned to them, Scully finished, "The Urmari, Adams, why are they here?"  
	With only blank stares and no answer forthcoming, Mulder responded with relish, his more characteristic aplomb reasserting itself, "Well, if alien bounty hunters are involved, they've come to right FBI agents haven't they, Scully?"  He stood, stretched and sauntered past his still seated partner with an insolent wink, "I imagine we know or can find out more about the agenda of the Urmari and Adams then you all can."  
	"Mulder, you are really enjoying the prospect of knowing more about space aliens than the space aliens in my living room, aren't you?"  
	"Scully say it again would you?  Once just isn't quite enough."  
	"That you know more about space aliens than the space aliens in my living room."  
	Mulder nodded, irrepressible, "I can't wait to submit this report to Skinner."   

*	*	*	*
	Clouds swirled in smoky wisps above his head, an ever present, obscuring fog that followed wherever he went. The room was dark and dull, but his Force sense honed and trained by a father now dead for over five years, remained, or so he thought, sharp.  He had sensed those two young strong presences almost as soon as they had broken orbit; Cancer Man fancied that he sensed from the Skywalkers some vestige of their powerful father.  
	But there had also been a new bright presence, pulsating with a raw, untrained power. He almost did not recognize her at first it had been so long.  
	Finally he remembered, a shining image fifteen or more years past of a girl with red hair and delicate features standing silently and composed behind the throne of a yellowed and gnarled man.  He had only seen her once, but his father had spoken with pride and manipulative lust for the potential he saw in the child.  Someday his father had promised, she will be my Hand, my assassin, my agent, deaf to all but my voice.  And then someday she will be your's.  Someday, Mara Jade will be your's Palpatine had promised, "I have foreseen it."  
	Had Palpatine also foreseen his own death, Cancer Man wondered?  With the death of his father at the hands of Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker, Cancer Man ceased such futile exercises in fortune telling.  To him, among the dull minds of Earth, there was no need for foreknowledge; careful planning yielded far more reliable results.  
	With stained fingers he extinguished the worn butt and lit another, sensing his own son approach with a quiet knock.  With a mental acquiescence, the door to the neat, nondescript cubicle swung open and Benjamin Adams strode into the room.  Adams tossed several photographs on the low, worn coffee table. "We were right, of course."  
	His father nodded. "There was no mistaking that Skywalker presence in the Force.  And the others?"  
	Adams bent his imposing figure gracefully to finger the photos.  He slid one towards the impassive, unmoving shape in the armchair.  "The man is Han Solo, Leia Skywalker's husband."  
	Cancer Man glanced at the photo, observing as an aside, "She has never acknowledged the name, going only as Organa."  
	Adams shrugged, then continued, "I don't recognize the other woman."  
	The older man blinked at his careless son, wondering if they needed to rehearse deep memory lessons.  "She *was* the Emperor's Hand, Palpatine's private aide and assassin.  Mara Jade."  Adams jerked with recognition, as Cancer Man continued the brief history lesson, "I had always wondered what happened to her after Palpatine died."  
	There was the obvious explanation, "Thrown in with the New Republic, perhaps."  
	"Palpatine thoroughly penetrated her psyche, at a level and to a depth we could not hope to ever replicate.  The shock of losing her mental tie to him should have driven her insane.  It is interesting that it did not.  It could make her all the more valuable to us now."  
	The two men stared for some time at the photographs, lost in private reflections of might have beens.  The son eventually asking of the father, "I've never understood why Skywalker sent me back from the Gate."  
	"It was a rather rash act, even for a Skywalker.  He may have still been under the control of the CEstellians."  
	Adams knew from what he spoke, "He may have also been distracted by things less galactic in nature."  
	The astute aside drew an echoing raspy chuckle from his father.  "Indeed."  The dry cackle sounded as dead leaves scrapping across the hard floor, "Two things, no, three things one may count upon from Skywalkers -- they are dutiful, they are fearless, and," his lip curled into a contemptuous leer, "They are romantic idealists."  
	Grateful to Skywalker's action in returning him, whatever the reason, Adams was a shade too defensive, "Such traits are generally considered admirable, even heroic."  
	"Such a sentimentalist, my son?  Or perhaps you are being deliberately ironic.  If the former, then it would seem I have neglected your training.  The talents of one's enemies are useful when as here dependable to the point of predictability."  
	Some part of Adams not wholly given over to such dark scheming futilely rebelled against a father's dominion.  If Palpatine had pierced Mara Jade to her very soul, a father's penetration of his son was as complete and as nearly corrupt.  The Force vested different skills to its adepts, and in the case of Cancer Man, his mastery had taken a hard, crooked turn.  He was a connoisseur of human frailty, possessing the uncanny ability to discern the debilities and appetites of others and to exploit them.  Under so knowing a touch, strengths were manipulated and weaknesses fed and savored.  So perceiving such a delicate sensitivity in Adams now, with a deft, devastating mental thrust, Cancer Man struck, delivering a formidable, wrenching psychic reprimand.  The blow from the father sent the son careening into the wall.   
	The silent lesson administered, Cancer Man returned nonchalantly to the subject at hand, "It may be that someone has finally begun to ask the obvious questions, how it is that a man who was supposed to be an 'intimate,'" again a dry chuckle, "of the lovely Dana Scully came to be in Coruscant Palace, with a strong Force gift and the ability to steal the ship."  
	Adams slowly picked himself up from the concrete floor, head pounding.  Even through the throbbing agony of his father's mental thrashing, he recognized a dangerous ambiguity in the statement.  In a thick, pained voice he asked, "You don't think they know of the plan, do you?"  
	The malicious, knowing laugh again reverberated through the gray room, "No. Palpatine was very careful and specific.  The colonists had to be stopped and punished, I had to be protected from his scheming concubines and," he added with lip smacking satisfaction, "The Urmari required new fodder."  
	"Might Jade have known, and told them?"  
	Cancer Man snorted with amusement, "I imagine she believed she was privy to all of Palpatine's most intimate schemes."  He mused, "We must offer her the same illusion -- when the time comes."  He snubbed out another burning ember, igniting a new one in between chilled thoughts that had lay bear his son's own nagging fears, "No, Palpatine hid the plan too well.  I think, Ben, they have come for you."  
	The rare use of his given name shook Adams to the very bone.  He wondered which instinct coursed stronger in his cold father, preservation of son, self, or plan?  Would the father forfeit the son in the interest of the other two?  It was an interesting corollary to the legend of this planet that God sent His Son to Earth to be sacrificed.  Love, it had been reputed, was the motivation, if such emotion could be attributed to Gods.  He knew his father labored under no such weakness.  Aloud Adams retreated, "Well, regardless of why, we don't understand how.  Could it be that there is another Gate?"  
	"No.  But I think our hunting and hungry friends may be able to tell us more."  As if on cue, Cancer Man turned his sallow face to one side, as if listening for an elusive sound or melody.  
	The son felt the same disturbance a rapid heartbeat later and shuddered, "You invited one of them here?"  Fear and disgust colored the tremor in his voice.  
	In answer, Cancer Man called out to the dark presence behind the door, switching into Basic, "You may enter, friend."  
	The Urmari stepped in, today in the form of a hardened, youngish, scarred, white male, its malevolent presence filling the room.  Although Adams' own Force perception would allow him to penetrate the shape shifter's disguise, he avoided such applications when in the vicinity of the bounty hunters.  Use of the Force drove an Urmari mad with voracious hunger as surely as blood drove sharks into a killing frenzy.  Even now, merely in the presence of two Force users, Adams could sense the monster's black craving, barely controlled.  He had spent all of his 33 years in the presence of Urmari and had never become accustomed to the awful yearning they exuded in and for the Force, a rapacious appetite that could never be sated.  Of all the epithets and rumors that clung to them, soul stealer, vampire, demon, in a thousand languages, this one at least was true.  As surely as a black hole devoured all light and matter, as a leech sucked blood from an unknowing host, so too did the Urmari feed on the essence of Force sensitives.  
	"Thank you for responding, my friend."  The man's greeting was ironic.  They all knew, Urmari were not friends and came only because it otherwise suited them.  
	"Why have you sent for us?"  
	Cancer Man clucked reprovingly, and gestured for the Urmari to sit in a facing chair. The scar-faced alien ignored the offer, resolutely standing, still and coiled.  "You certainly know the reason for my summons, the Vespiary no doubt felt the same disturbance I did."  
	There was barely a flicker in the dull eyes of the Urmari.  It said slowly, "We felt it."  
	"And so I offer a trade to the Vespiary," he began cautiously, "I will tell you who and why, if you will tell me how."  
	"We accept," the Urmari said simply, not shifting its stance.  
	"Of the three presences you felt, two are Skywalkers."  With a hiss of pleasure from the Urmari, Cancer Man leered and continued, "Yes.  I see you know the name.  They have likely come in search of my Father's heirs.  The Force is strong with both of them; one, the man, is a trained Jedi."  
	Adams could have sworn the shape shifted; for a moment, he saw a grinning, fanged head and a tongue licking at hungry, dripping lips.  The mirage vanished, leaving again only the tall, broad man.  Its voice rang hollow and dry, "Hunger binds what the stars divide.  The Vespiary knows of our long and successful labors in the service of your father who is now dead and that, but for the colonists, the nectar otherwise found here is both scarce and does not satisfy.  The Vespiary has felt our hunger; they may have had a subtle hand in bringing sweet Jedi meat to us.  The ..."  
	Cancer Man cut off the Urmari, with a swift glance at Adams.  "So you think they may have come in an Urmari ship?"  
	The Urmari shrugged, an endearingly human gesture in so alien a personage, "We believe it so.  Apart from our hunger, few things bridge the span between the here and the there."  The creature wavered, a shadow moving across the bleak floor, then spoke again, a shivering chill wafting through the room, "What of the other, the third who is not a Skywalker?"  
	Cancer Man said, too quickly, "The other is not your concern."  
	The menace grew in the small space, growling with the rumblings of a petit betrayal, "Green and unripe she would be, but many among us crave such uncured nectar."  
	A fist came down on the coffee table, "The other woman, Mara Jade, she is mine.  You may not take her."  
	Smiling, the Urmari said softly, "The Vespiary will take who they please.  We make no such promises, but..."  
	Cancer Man waited as the Urmari before him counted and consulted those others with whom it shared a consciousness driven by appetite.  
	Finally it spoke, "We acknowledge the role you played in bringing Jedi to us.  Should the Skywalkers be as sweet and strong as we believe they will be, then we may discuss the fate of Mara Jade."  
	Like a cold wind blowing, the Urmari swept from the room.  Adams felt free to exhale only then, and glanced at his father, also visibly disturbed.  As the darkness receded, Adams said slowly, "Dealing with Urmari, your father made a pact with the devil himself."  
	"The devil is a construct of this world, not our's, son."  Cancer Man was not persuasive.  
	"Every culture has its own concept of hell.  If the devil of this galaxy or another had a face, it would be Urmari."  
	Cancer Man laughed at his son's oh so serious histrionics, "And that would make Palpatine who, Faust?  Selling his soul for Urmari power?"  
	"If that is the case, I would be careful, father."  With excessive drama but telling sincerity, Adams entreated, "Palpatine never fulfilled his part of the Urmari bargain.  The sins of the father may come to rest on the son."  
	Laughing again, as one trying to convince himself of something, Cancer Man threatened pleasantly, "Or on the grandson."   

*	*	*	*
	"You want to take them *where*?"  Afternoon had worn into evening, leaving two hungry Earthlings and four ravenous space aliens.  
	"Mulder," Dana tried again.  "Do you really think an Annapolis crab house is a good idea?  Maybe they don't even eat crustaceans.  What happens if one of them is allergic to the iodine content in shellfish?"  
	With a sigh of patient amusement, Mulder turned to the assembled guests, "Do any of you have any known food allergies?"  
	A chorus of shaken heads greeted the question.  "See, Scully?"  
	"Mulder, you don't even get forks and spoons in a crab house."  
	With a significant look at the skeptical Jade, Mulder grinned, "I know."  
	The activity around Han and his mysterious bag caught the agents' attention.  "What are you doing?" Dana asked as Han handed Skywalker and Leia metal handles that seemed vaguely familiar.  Mara was already strapping what looked suspiciously like a gun holster on to her wrist as Mulder watched with rapt fascination.  
	Solo answered for all of them, "Don't worry.  We'll carry concealed.  But with Urmari and Adams loose, there is no way we are going unarmed."  
	Leia clipped the handle to her belt, where it dangled fairly unobtrusively, partially concealed by a loose jacket she wore, "And you all should be armed as well.  We have to assume that the Urmari will know we are here."  
	As Scully asked, "How," she saw something subtle pass between Skywalker and Leia.  
	His sister turned away, to whisper something to Han as Mara piped in, "Mulder, don't just stand there.  You know how to help a lady with a blaster holster don't you?"  
	It was a beautifully orchestrated diversion, Dana realized as Skywalker edged towards her with studied casualness.  Pausing merely to, like his sister, clip the handle at his side, he muttered, "We need to talk."  With a quick glance at Scully's partner now enchanted by Mara, Skywalker whispered as he strolled by on his way to the window, "Without Mulder."  
	Oh yes, Dana thought.  And I've got a few things to discuss with you.  Aloud she said, "Let's walk down to the waterfront."   

*	*	*	*
	Once out of her building, again by unspoken accord, Han, Leia and Mara bunched around Mulder.  Skywalker put a light restraining hand on her arm, nodding at the others, "Let them go ahead a bit."  
	Dana shook free of him, wondering for the thousandth time since she laid eyes on him hours ago, what the hell had happened before to give him the right to assume such *familiarity* now.  She saw Mulder turn with a puzzled, dark look, that disappeared into an abashed grin as Mara laced fingers around his elbow, asking, "So Mulder, tell me about the blasters FBI agents get." Intercepting the fleeting look that passed between Jade and Skywalker multiplied Dana's irritation.  Ignorance and manipulation only underscored the unaccustomed and very unpleasant feeling of vulnerability.  
	Dana seethed silently until the others were a half block ahead, then snapped.  "So what else is going on here, Skywalker.  You four have finessed this situation beautifully ..."  
	He seemed unprepared for this assertive assault, "Dana, I really needed to talk to you. And I didn't want Mulder to hear."  
	"Why not?" she accused, her worst fears confirmed.  "What is it you don't want him to hear?"  
	She jerked away as Skywalker touched her arm, stammering "Really Dana, it was important that we talk about ..."  
	Scully cut him off, "Talk about what?"  She began striding faster, her temper rising. "Your memory seems pretty in tact, you obviously remember something ..." she spat out the words, "That I don't.  In fact, you seem quite free to take liberties.  You've got the advantage over me entirely."  Spinning around she forced him to pull up abruptly, and she poked him hard in the chest with a jabbing finger, "I don't imagine you are familiar with the phrase 'slip a mickey'?"  His confusion showed that he clearly was not.  
	"The origins," Dana bit harshly, and emphasized with another jab, "Involve a man sneaking a drug into a woman's food or drink, rendering her unconscious.  At his leisure, he is then able to take advantage of her, sexually or otherwise.  And when she wakes, she has no memory of what happened."  
	Skywalker actually sputtered and blushed.  Dana knew she would comprehend at some point when she was calmer that this was not the reaction of a cad.  He was visibly hurt even at the mere accusation.  "Dana, I..."  He took her accusing finger and wrapped it in both his hands, staring hard, into her eyes, "I'd never do anything like that.  Nothing like that ..."  
	Dana pulled away, simultaneously galled at the audacity and charmed by the sincerity. She said more softly, "Now do you get it?  Maybe I wasn't drugged, but I have no idea what happened the last time you were here.  I have no reason, no basis for trusting anything you say."  
	She had expected some vehement defense or explanation.  She did not expect another flush, a shake of his head and a smirk at the foursome now a block ahead. "What is it?" she asked.  
	He shrugged and with a rueful grin began walking again, staring at the cobbled walks of old Annapolis, hands buried in his pockets, "Leia could tell this conversation wasn't going well and wanted to know if they should try it instead.  Mara offered to attest to my annoyingly virtuous character."  
	A guffaw escaped her, involuntarily.  Dana fell in step with him, "How..?" but she already knew the answer.  
	"It's what we told you about before, about the Force, Leia and I can communicate through it, and Mara's learning to."  
	"Oh."  
	Skywalker tumbled on, seeing an opening. "Listen, Dana, I'm sorry that you feel so much at a disadvantage.  When we get a minute I'll try really to restore everything you've forgotten and then you'll see there's really nothing, well I mean nothing."  He stumbled so awkwardly she almost, but not quite, felt sorry for him.  Skywalker tried again, "You'll see that nothing happened before that you need to be well, embarrassed about."  
	Scully did wonder if  what might embarrass **her** had any relation at all to what in Skywalker's culture might embarrass **him.**   Profoundly relieved at least at the assurance, but now unwilling to relinquish the advantage, Scully pressed, "Well, then, why the big mystery, why all the effort to separate me and Mulder just now?"  
	Skywalker stared ahead at Mulder and the others.  Mara was leaning into Mulder conspiratorially.  Han and Leia walked next to them, linked arm to arm, he shortening his long strides to match her smaller steps.  A graceful canopy of colorful trees glinting gold and red hung overhead, their leaves littering the ground.  
	"Have you noticed any change in Mulder?"
	The sudden change in the conversation rendered her momentarily mute as she flew to what had happened only that morning in Quantico.  "What do you mean?"  
	Head now bowed, the look he gave was askance, but piercing, "I think you know exactly what I mean."  
	Now Scully lowered her head and voice, thrusting hands deep into her raincoat, "It happened about two weeks ago, but Mulder only told me yesterday.  He says..." The admission was more difficult than she had imagined, "He says that he went to sleep one night and woke up two days later.  And when he did, something was missing."  
	"What?"  
	She shook her head, repeating what they had learned, "Mulder's intuitive skills made him one of the best behaviorist's at the Bureau."  
	Skywalker puzzled over the word the translator did not recognize.  She explained, "It means many things, but in this context, it's an uncanny ability Mulder has always had, an intuition, an insight into the criminal mind."  
	"And it's gone?  Just vanished?"  
	"Yes.  The tests he took today show that what he did, what he had a year ago, he no longer has.  It's rather amorphous, but his intuitive skills are, well Mulder insists they're gone and the psychologist agreed.  I might have just dismissed the whole thing as a phase or slump he is going through, but Mulder used to have perfect recall."  
	"His eidetic memory is gone too?"  
	Dana nodded, wondering what motivated her to confide these secrets, but Skywalker seemed only concerned and probing, not shocked. "You don't seem surprised."  
	"Do you remember what we told you before about the Force.  How it binds things together and how some people are sensitive to it, and can tap into it.  To use it for strength and knowledge."  
	"You have it, and Leia and Mara, right?"  
	"Do you remember that Mulder was very strong with the Force too?"  
	"He *was*?"  Dana's first reaction was to deny it, deny it all, but the memories of four months ago flooded back to her.  She raised a hand to her temple, "I have it a little bit too right?"  
	Skywalker continued staring down at the brick lined walk.  "Yes, some.  We taught you and Mulder some shielding techniques at the Gate.  He didn't know it, but Mulder had a very strong Force gift.  The Force manifests itself in different ways, and I think with Mulder it gave him the memory, and what you call his insight and intuition.  And since you have some sensitivity, it probably heightened his link to you."  
	Dana whispered, "You are using the past tense Luke. Is that just a fault with the translator?"  
	He turned a pained look to her, "Mara noticed it first, almost as soon as we met Mulder in the basement.  His Force sense is gone."  
	They walked silently, into old Annapolis, the cries of the gulls overhead mingling with the laughter ahead.  Some of Dana's scientific intellect began to reassert itself.  In her clinician's voice she asked, "Is this kind of lapse common among Force users?"  
	His long silence made the admission almost superfluous, "I don't think so."  Sensing her sinking despair, he added, "But until we met Mara, Leia and I thought we were the only Jedi ..."  
	"Jedi?"  The translator did not provide an explanation, but again the term seemed familiar.  
	"Trained Force sensitives of a sort.  Anyway, we know so little about the Force.  The ones who knew the most are all dead."  
	"What about Mara, does she know anything?"  
	There was an odd, almost protective silence, "Mara's training has been sporadic and unusual.  But no, she doesn't know anything either."  
	"But you have a theory."  It was not a question.  
	"Yes.  It was the holo in your office of the Urmari ship, and then seeing Mulder again."  
	There was no mistaking the deep, serious dread in his voice.  Dana waited, and Skywalker finally finished, "The Urmari are believed to be Force hunters; they supposedly can rob a person of his Force ability.  We don't know, but..."  he trailed off, leaving Dana to finish, aghast.  
	"You mean these aliens can somehow steal the Force, take away something that doesn't even exist except in a mental or psychic way?"  
	Skywalker gingerly placed a tentative hand to her shoulder, speaking urgently, "I know it's incredible, but we don't have any better explanation.  The Emperor worked with the Urmari, they killed hundreds, thousands of Jedi, somehow taking the Force from them.  We think the Urmari got to Mulder."  
	Rationality demanded a rejection of what she felt, of what she had seen.  She could have never accepted this until she had seen what had happened to the surgeon, the painter, the pianist, the poor translator, and then Mulder.  In a twisted way, once the initial premise was accepted, the logic of it all was fantastic, surely, but also rigorous and inescapable.  With a resigned sigh she gently disengaged from his earnest grip.  They continued walking.  "That's why you think Adams is here with the Urmari, and why you think he is an heir of your Emperor."  
	"We didn't put it all together until we met up with you all again, but it all makes sense. Everything that happened to Mulder confirms it."  
	Not just Mulder she thought.  Sensing the melancholy, Skywalker asked, "There've been others besides Mulder?"  
	She answered shortly, "Your sister and Mara may not mind you rooting through their heads, but I do."  
	"Sorry.  It's a bad habit."  
	"It certainly is.  And very rude.  But yes, Mulder has been dragging me throughout the country meeting people who report the same things he did, missing time, and then, on awakening, finding some part of them, some skill or ability is gone.  Our last case was a very skilled translator.  He killed himself four days ago.  We set up testing for the others today. What concerns me most is that there must be many more cases that we haven't heard of.  And I wonder why they suddenly now targeted Mulder. I don't think it's any more accidental than Adams asking me on a date."  
	Coming down the cobbled lane, they entered the old town of Annapolis, at the harbor on the Chesapeake Bay.  
	"Skywalker, please don't say anything to Mulder.  He, well, he'll need to hear this from me."  
	"Sure.  Any of us would be glad to do whatever we can."  
	"I'll tell him after dinner.  I just wish I knew what to say."   

*	*	*	*
	The Annapolis Crab House sat on the old town square, where the Chesapeake Bay met the cobblestones and 18th Century buildings of old Annapolis.  Army would be playing Navy that Saturday, so the town and its Naval Academy denizens were appropriately festooned to commemorate the historic match up.  
	The Crab House was packed to the gills as it were, boisterous patrons elbow to cheek to jowl, crowded on picnic tables covered with newspapers, pitchers of golden beer and saltine crackers.  And of course crabs -- mountains of hard shelled, beady eyed, Old Bay seasoning encrusted crustaceans, all sacrificed in a gourmand ritual deemed barbaric by most west of the Appalachians -- the reaction of those west of the Milky Way was still to be ascertained.  
	Mulder was the considerate and effervescent host, "So, do you all want the crabs or the crabs?"  Dana, wedged between Han and Luke on the bench began passing out the bibs, which were considerately wrapped around the only utensils to be found at a Crab House.  Mara unrolled the bundle then looked up wonderingly.  
	Dana nodded at the unspoken question, "Yes, you use those to extract the meat from the crabs, and of course, you use your hands."  
	Mulder, opposite Dana and knee to knee with the ladies, leaned over to Mara grinning broadly, "I just knew you would love a restaurant where you get a mallet and a knife to eat your meal."  
	Mara ran a light finger along the knife, then pointedly looked past Mulder at Leia, "I don't think it's really sharp enough to do much damage."  
	Leia was inspecting her own table setting, "Pity."  
	Mulder took care of the ordering, always simple at this restaurant.  "Crabs," he told the surly, harried waitress.  "Lots and lots of crabs, a box of Saltines and a coupla pitchers of Bud."  
	The beer and crackers arrived first, then the waitress reappeared with a bushel basket, dripping water and crab detritus out the bottom.  They barely rescued the crackers, beer and utensils in time; with no ceremony, the waitress up ended fifty or more crabs on to the table. Luke and Mara both recoiled, fully expecting the crustaceans to slither away and snap at such indignant treatment.  One tumbled off the pile landing right in front of a startled Mara, who with the practiced ease of an assassin, plunged her knife into the crab's back, neatly pinning it to the table.  Mulder burst into laughter, only now feeling vindicated for Mara's pranks in his car.  "Don't worry Jade, they're already dead."  
	She eyed her skewered dinner with deep skepticism, then yanked her knife out of the table and the crab.  With slow deliberateness she turned to Mulder, caught his admiring eye with a dazzling smile, and then in a blindly fast movement, rammed her knife into a crab resting but inches from his fingers.  "My knife slipped," she said smugly.   	Mulder blanched, retreating with a stammer, "Really, they are very good, taste just like chicken."  	The four aliens all looked at one another with expressions of mingled horror and amusement, prompting "what?" from the earthlings.   	"Chicken?" Leia asked.  	Mulder nodded.  "It's just a joke," as Scully explained, "Chicken is a bland firm meat from birds."  	Han was now laughing hysterically, Mara but a step behind.  With a glare at her husband, Leia explained, "I think the problem is with the translation.  Our translator translated your chicken into Ewok."  	Already hard at work with his knife and mallet, Han pried a large piece of crab meat out and with a satisfied glint, said, in English, "Tastes just like Ewok."   
	Both Leia and Han quickly got into the Crab House spirit.  For Leia, a royal upbringing meant savoring all manner of delicacies including things with eyes, shells and legs still attached.  Her husband loved her for many reasons, not the least of which was her adroit use of cutlery.  And for Han, his Corellian physiology and temperament were admirably suited to things that were boiled alive, served by the dozen, and where consumption ended, not with satiety, but because the Old Bay Spice that coated the crabs had worked its way too thoroughly into fingers cut on sharp edged shells.  
	Dana had to coach a good-natured Skywalker through a meal that for him, ended up consisting primarily of Budweiser and Saltine crackers.  Mara fared little better,  under Mulder's amused instruction, occasionally threatened to use the knife on her dinner companion rather than her dinner.  
	Deftly prying the apron off one crab, Leia intoned, "You do have to wonder at the temerity of the first human," she lifted her dinner up by a dangling leg, "Who beheld one of these creatures, and said, 'Let's eat it.'"  
	When the check came, Han offered to pay with a fistful of quarters, leaving Mulder and Scully in hysterics at the generous offer.  "What did you do Solo, rob a phone booth?" Mulder laughed.  The bashful grins indicated that Mulder's jest should be taken more seriously.  
	Scully waved it off, "Never mind.  Don't answer that."  She wanted to get moving, anxious to talk to Mulder and becoming concerned at what appeared to be a developing knife throwing contest between Han, Skywalker, and Mara.  
	They left the crowded, smoky restaurant and walked into the busy square and salty tang of a soft October evening on the Chesapeake.  Again, the four operated by some unspoken accord, Leia and Han peeling off to wander to the water front, and Skywalker tugging on Mara's sleeve with boyish enthusiasm, and an entreaty suspiciously close to a whine, "Come on Mara, you *know* I want to see the ocean."  She grumbled, grinned and allowed the farm boy to pull her towards the sea wall, docks and squawking water fowl.  
	Mulder watched them go, fixed on the withdrawing Jade and Skywalker.  "They are really good at that, aren't they?"  
	Scully glanced up at the pair, wondering whether the short distance between them indicated a long, familiar friendship, different cultural notions of personal space or something more intimate.  "Yes, I think they have been working together for a long time."  
	"The Force link doesn't hurt either, does it?"  
	"Well, that wouldn't explain how Han does it."  They turned at the waterfront to follow the others, along the sea wall.  "Mulder ..."  Scully began, and then found everything she had rehearsed over dinner seemed inadequate.  She stopped, and sat on the wall, taking his hands in hers, bringing him around to face her.  She began again, "Mulder..."  
	He looked down, then up, over her shoulder across the Bay and the winking lights.  A tinkling laughter, probably Leia's, drifted along the water.  "Just say it, Scully. I'm not blind. What's going on?"  
	"It's, well, they think they know what happened to you, what happened to that translator and the others."  
	Wild hope, fear, despair.  Scully thought she saw them all in those seconds.  Mulder tried pulling away from her, but she held his hands fast in her own, "Do you remember at the Gate, how CEstallia taught you how to keep the Gatepresence out of your mind, how to stay focused?  Do you remember why we had to learn how to do it?"  
	"Some.  All of it is vague, but..."  
	"Mulder, the reason we had to learn that was because you are Force sensitive, like Skywalker, and Leia and Jade.  Do you remember now?"  As he nodded slowly, understanding emerging, she went on, "They think the Force gave you the eidetic memory, your intuitive skills.  Skywalker said that they could sense the Force in you before and that they can't anymore.  They think that's what you are missing now."  
	He whispered, eyes shut, seeing, remembering now, "You mean somehow, or something took away my *Force*?"  
	She nodded.  
	Utter mystification and incredulity, "How?"  
	"The Urmari, the bounty hunters, Mulder.  They think the bounty hunters can steal the Force sensitivity from a person."  
	Mulder jerked his hands away, pivoted one way, then another, and with deep resignation, saw no where to run. He slumped next to her on the wall, studying his shoes. After several minutes she was prepared to break the silence, when he did.  "I've always wondered why they haven't just killed me.  I assumed that it was because they didn't want to make me a martyr to the cause."  He ran disbelieving hands through disheveled hair, "It looks like they found a way to neutralize me without killing me."  
	"Mulder, I ..."  
	He cut her off, "Don't, Scully.  This makes more sense than anything we've learned today.  Even if this Emperor of their's isn't here, and the space ships aren't Urmari, or whatever the hell they say, and even if their Urmari aren't the bounty hunters we know and love, even if everything they have told us is an outright lie, we know who's behind the bounty hunters here, and we know he'll stop at nothing to stop us."  
	Mulder looked down the walkway; Skywalker and Jade, in defiance of local ordinances, were tripping along the top of the sea wall.  "We'd better collect our aliens before they are called upon to explain their behavior to the local cop on the beat."  
	She laughed, but with little mirth.  "What do we do with them.  Hotel?"  
	"I think that would take too many phone booths and I don't want to submit that expense voucher to Bureau accounting.  Let's go back to your place, and divvy up their gear.  I'll take the Solos back to my place, and we'll meet back here tomorrow."  
	Action, movement, activity, plans, investigations. They had to move forward with this. "I'll go back to the office tomorrow, look through the files, run some searches, see what we can find on Adams, on the bounty hunters and the colonists."  
	"Might as well pull up what we have on Cancer Man and the consortium, too."  They pulled themselves up from the wall, and moved towards the others.  Mulder continued, already looking ahead, "I thought maybe Jade, Skywalker and I should visit Frohike and company."  
	Scully smiled, thinking that, for a host of reasons, Mara among the Lone Gunmen with both Mulder and Skywalker in attendance would be very entertaining.  "You just love making trouble, don't you?"     
	Deliberately misconstruing her, he teased, "Scully, you know you are first in my heart. Now if  I was blonde and blue eyed, maybe it would be reciprocated."  
	"Well, as soon as I find out what happened the last time, you will be the first to know." Fast approaching the others, Scully stopped and tugged on her partner's sleeve, "And Mulder, you should have learned by now, better watch your step around us redheads."   

*	*	*	*
	Even after Mulder and the Solos left, Dana was up with Mara and Luke for hours, hearing more of the story.  She had the sense that Luke still wanted to have a talk she wanted to avoid, and she felt that Mara was subtlety doing what she could forestall it as well. Whether Mara was coming to Dana's aid, merely enjoying thwarting Skywalker, or acting out some agenda of her own,  Dana could not discern.   
	Scully had been prepared to take the couch and offer them her bed, but after puzzling out the dynamics, felt such an offer too blunt for the subtle undercurrents.  And for whatever reason of misplaced gallantry, she was certain Luke would have refused to throw his hostess out of her bed.  So well passed midnight Dana gave a yawning Luke a pillow, blanket and the couch and headed to her own bedroom.  Answering the only question put to her all evening, Mara got up from the chair and followed.   
	Borrowed nightshirts and scrounging for toothbrushes from previous dentist's visits, then tossing, turning and thumping in the shared bed -- if the situation was painfully brand new and awkward to Mara, it was poignantly familiar to Dana.  Dana felt a sorrowing wave break over her, a pang in the dark with the brutality of her sister's murder.  With a lump forming, her throat tightening with the memory, she turned hurriedly away, wiping a tear that would, without some immediate control, be followed by many more.   
	Softly, Mara asked, "I remind you of someone?"  
	Dana replied shortly, in a thick voice, "I've been over this with Skywalker.  You may not mind someone in your head Mara, but I do."   
	"Sorry."  Embarrassed, Mara explained, "I just got a very strong image of one of the women in a holo in your living room."   
	Haltingly, Dana murmured, "The picture is of my older sister Missy.  She was murdered over a year ago."  
	"I'm sorry."   
	And Dana could tell that she really was.  "I was supposed to be killed, not Missy.  She just got in the way."  
	"Of one of those enemies you and Mulder have made?"  
	"Yes."  Dana felt the pressure ease in her chest, "The same people who killed Missy, killed Mulder's father and probably kidnapped his sister.  They are probably behind this whole thing now, Adams, the bounty hunters, the loss of Mulder's Force."  
	Mara Jade had few soft empathies or vulnerabilities.  Dana's own story, as fully twisted as her own, however, moved her, to deep pity, a new dawning respect, and anger. Mara gave the response she herself would have wanted to hear, "You've got help now Dana. We'll get them."   
	It was very considerate and hopelessly naive.  Dana pushed the pain aside. "Thanks Mara."  The bedtime silence where a person finds sound sleep or none at all hung between them, every tiny sound and light loudly magnified.   
	Mara finally spoke, "May I ask you something?"   
	What was it about girls and slumber parties, Dana thought. "Well, whether I answer depends on the question."   
	Mara seemed not at all put off by the bluntness, "The arrangement you have with Mulder, is that typical of your culture?"  
	"Nothing about Mulder is typical."  
	Mara chuckled quietly, as Dana offered, "We've been partners at the Bureau for three years.  We work well together."  Dana sensed an odd stiffening sense of recognition from Mara and pressed a question she had wondered about all day. "Why did you come?"  
	With the sharp intake, and abrupt turn, Dana knew Mara did not welcome the question, but having started the confessions, was in no position to stop it now.  There was another heavy sigh in the dark.  "It's 'cause of my ties to the Emperor."  
	"What kind of ties?"  
	Another long, reluctant pause.  "Palpatine was my Master.  I don't remember any of it, but he took me from my family as a child because I was able to link with him mentally.  I could hear him and do whatever he wanted from anywhere in the galaxy."  
	As Mara had intended, the admission did stun Dana into silence, but only momentarily. "It was a telepathic link, in the Force?"  
	"Yes."  
	"But if you worked for the Emperor, how come you are working with Skywalker and the Solos now?"  
	Dana was asking for it.  "Skywalker and his father got to the Emperor and killed him. Right before Palpatine died, he planted a command in my mind, and ordered me to find Skywalker and kill him."  
	With this extraordinary revelation, Dana turned on to her side to face a prone Mara. "He could do that?  Plant a subliminal message telling you to murder someone?"   
	"Oh sure.  Did it all the time,"  Mara responded with deliberate, chilling indifference.  
	"But you obviously didn't kill Skywalker."   
	Mara was wondering what would get this woman to back off.  "I tried for years.  But circumstances threw us together for a while.  We ended up going on a mission and I killed his clone instead."  
	"His clone?" Dana echoed in stunned disbelief.  
	"Yeah."   
	Dana pressed further, "And killing the clone cured of the compulsion to kill the real Skywalker?"   
	"I dunno about cured.  Killing him still seems like a good idea when he gets me involved in things like this."   
	This time Dana took the hint, "Good night, Mara."   
	With a hesitation suggesting that such civility was uncommon to her, Mara muttered, "You, too."  
	After what seemed like only moments of sleep, the ringing yanked Dana to consciousness.  That damn phone, that damn Mulder.  Fumbling for her phone on the third ring, Dana hoped she had been quick enough to get it without waking Mara or Luke. "Mulder," she hissed, blinking at her clock, "Don't you ever sleep?"  
	"Uhhhhh, sorry" came the whisper at the other end.  He stated the obvious, "I couldn't sleep."   
	"It's 3:30 in the morning, what could possibly be so important that you'd have to talk about it now?"  Feeling no response from Mara, Dana tried easing out of the bed then was startled to realize she needn't have bothered with delicate, stealthy maneuvering since Mara wasn't there.  Interesting.  Very interesting indeed. 
	She slid from under the covers and on to the floor, as the mournful voice at the other end intoned, "Scully, did Skywalker tell you how I can get the Force back?"  
	Having deliberately avoided that topic before at the Harbor, Dana found she was oddly unprepared for that obvious question now.  Her cautious long silence was greeted by an even longer one on the other end of the phone.  "That's what I thought," Mulder said glumly. "What if they don't know how?  What if they can't?  What if ..."   
	She sighed, quiet, irritated at the egoism, at the fatalism, but also hearing a very frightened friend.  "Mulder, you haven't talked to Han about this yet have you?"   
	"No...  He wouldn't understand."   
	Dana prickled.  Just like you think I wouldn't, but that doesn't stop you from calling me to moan about it, she fumed.  "Don't be too sure.  He's not Force sensitive but look at what he's done."  Look, she thought, at what I've done.   
	"It's like I'm blind," he finally muttered.   
	"And you know what the blind do, they compensate by developing other skills."  
	From his gloomy silence, she knew this was not working, that he was sinking deeper, and tried another tact, "Did you know that Han and Leia haven't seen their two children in months?"   
	Mulder was puzzled enough to respond, "Why?"   
	"Their kids are hidden somewhere so secret that even their parents don't know where it is."   
	"I don't see what that has to do--"   
	She interrupted him, "It has everything to do with it, Mulder.  The children are very Force sensitive, being around any destructive influence might warp them."  At some intellectual level Dana couldn't believe she was talking like this but she continued on.  "They could turn to the Dark Side."  
	"Oh."   
	"Did you know that the Emperor took Mara from her family as a child, that she has no memory of who she was until she went to him, and all because she had a Force gift that allowed her to hear him telepathically?"  Mulder was silent, and Dana continued ruthlessly, "Did you know that Luke and Leia were separated as infants, and hidden to keep them away from their father who had fallen to the Dark Side and that Leia was tortured by him and that Luke was supposed to kill him."   
	She knew that with these tales she was summoning his memory of Samantha, and maybe that as devastating as his loss was, he might see that there were far worse things a child or sibling might suffer.  "Mulder," she whispered entreatingly, "Look at what the Force has brought them.  Do you think they are happy?  Do you really want that?"   
	Dana heard a sound behind her and realized Mara had been standing at the door.   
	"But," came the plea from the other end, "It's what made me different, special."   
	Dana wondered at Mara's timing and intrusion, but chose to ignore it.  Even without the evidence of this most recent foray, after seeing the interactions this evening, Mara, she suspected, probably recognized a familiar role and script, "Mulder," she said softly, "You are special, you always will be.  There are things even the Force doesn't give."  
	There was a long pause, then, "Scully," came the distant, hoarse whisper, "You're coming on to me aren't you?"   
	"Maybe if you went to sleep Mulder, you could at least dream about it."  She caught a stifled laugh from Mara.  
	He persisted, some sense of perspective returning, "It'd be easier to dream about you if I knew what you were wearing, or why don't you tell me what Mara's wearing, too."   
	"No need for me to tell you, why don't you ask her yourself."  
	He was so sophisticated, squeaking, "Mara's awake?  She heard?"   
	"Of course she's awake, we are," Dana glanced at Mara, "After all, sharing a room." Dana raised her arm with the phone in it, and Mara with a quick step launched herself on to the bed.  Taking the phone, she gestured Dana closer so that they could both listen in to the fun.  
	"Mulder..."  Dana could swear Mara was affecting a sultry accent, "Now why do you want to know what we are wearing?"   
	Dana overheard the muffled curse from her thoroughly embarrassed partner.  "I don't think that term translates well Mulder, but I'm sure I know exactly what you meant.  So tell me, why are you bothering Dana at this hour?"  
	He was recovering, Dana thought, his comeback sly enough to have been prodded by some weird Force sense, "Ahhh Jade, don't you know anyone who sometimes needs to talk to his best friend in the middle of the night?"   
	Dana gestured to retrieve the phone, sparing Mara a response to that loaded question, "Very sweet Mulder, but even best friends need to sleep."   
	"Good night, partner."  
	She hung up, setting the phone on her nightstand and clambered back into the bed as Mara settled back in, "Does he do that frequently?"   
	"Call me late at night, or make suggestive comments laden with sexual innuendo?"   
	Mara chuckled, then after long pause, began hesitantly, "About ahhhh..."   
	Dana interrupted her, "Sometimes he just needs to talk to his best friend."   
	"Right."  
	Inspiration striking, Dana queried, "Can I ask you something?"  
	Recognizing a replay of earlier, with another quiet laugh, Mara said, "Well, whether I answer depends on the question."  
	Dana stared up at the ceiling, as if in deep contemplation.  "You said earlier that killing Skywalker's clone has kept you from murdering the real one."   
	"So far."  With  a pause, Mara finally asked the follow up that was begging to be said, "Why do you want to know?"   
	Dana mused aloud, "I shot Mulder once, for his own good mind you, but it hasn't really cured me of my compulsion to kill him.  I thought it might help if I could get a Mulder clone somewhere and kill him."  
	They both burst into laughter, until Mara "shhushhed" Dana.  "Quit eavesdropping, Skywalker," she called out.   
	A voice came from the next room, "Hey, it's just a poor, lonely guy trying to get some sleep with you two cackling like a pair of mynocks."   
	"Mynocks?"   
	"I'll tell you later," Mara promised.   
	They drifted off to sleep.

END-- Chapter 4