XJedi 2, A Cross Over
Chapter 6
"Guns and Lovers"

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

DISCLAIMERS:  see Chapter 1


*****************************
Chapter 6 "Guns and Lovers"
*****************************

Alexandria, Virginia
10:00 AM

	 When Scully, Luke and Mara arrived at Mulder's the next morning, ominously, the television was already tuned to NCAA football pre-game.  Han and Mulder were sprawled on the couch with a half-eaten pizza between them, confirming what the crab feast might have left in doubt; Mulder's appalling appetites were admirably suited to Corellian physiology.  Apparently not finding Dana's breakfast offerings sufficiently fortifying, Luke launched himself at the couch, the pizza and the remote.  A struggle ensued.  Slices of Leona's pepperoni and onion, the remote, a football, one alien, sundry and all slid, fell, or were wrestled to the floor.  
	 Mara and Scully withdrew to the kitchen where a composed Leia was working through the Saturday Washington Post, and resolutely ignoring the chaos around her.  Her Alderaani nanny had impressed upon her that males were not merely different sexes, but occasionally truly different species.  She had years ago perfected her audio and visual filter.  With nary a glance at the pummeling, cursing males, Leia stated the obvious, "Dana, Mara, I'm so glad you're here."    
	 Dana raised her voice a little. "I'm sorry Leia.  I imagine it's been like this all morning.  Did you at least get some coffee or breakfast?"  
	 Leia pointed to a styrofoam cup at her hand.  It was tepid, murky brown, and there were things floating in it.  "Mulder tried to make something, he called that coffee, but ..."  The remainder was interrupted as Mara dove down to avoid the football Mulder had lobbed at her.  The pigskin landed with a gentle splat in the sink on top of a pile of dirty, wet paper plates.    
	 Mulder scolded. "Jade, that was a perfect pass.  You were supposed to catch it."    
	 Slowly rising, Mara folded her arms across her chest, neither amused nor charmed and offering her very best contemptuous glare.  "Any pass of yours is unwelcome, Mulder."  
	 He sauntered by her on the way to the sink, only a fleeting hand at her shoulder acknowledging what had transpired but hours before.  Han's voice broke over the din.  "Now see, kid, that would have been an incomplete pass.  That means the team with the ball will only have three more tries to move 10 yards and then they'd havda punt."    
	 "What's a yard?" Luke asked his mouth full of pizza and his feet hanging over the edge of the sofa.  
	 Mulder tossed the ball at him, "About twice that distance."  His aim was no better this time and he hit a lamp.    
	 Dana had had enough.  Striding across the room she fetched the remote from the floor and to a chorus of protests, silenced Keith Jackson, "Mulder..."  
	 He grinned, geez he loved it when she looked like that, eyes flashing, infuriated, all **at him**.  He knew no one could get a rise out of her the way he could.  "Scully..." Mulder said, his very suave best with tomato sauce dribbled down the front of his sweatshirt.  
	 "Work, not football, is on the schedule for today.  We need you all conscious and alert, not comatose brought on by testosterone poisoning."  
	 "But Scully ..." he whined.  "Han and Luke wanna see the Navy-Army game ..."  
	 Han interrupted, "Army-Navy game."  
	 "Navy-Army game," Luke contradicted.  
	 From Han, who was a quick study, "The plebes are gonna whip those shippies ...."   
	 Leia interrupted with a very large bellow from one so small, "ENOUGH!!"  
	 Mulder's eyes went wide.  "See, now you got my friends in trouble."  Scully glared so threateningly, he finally relented, lowering his head with a grin and mock repentance. "Okay, Scully, how many addresses do we have to check out?  We can split them up."    
	 Scully withdrew the list, very, very casually saying, "I thought we might take the ones in Virginia."  
	 "We?" Mulder asked quickly.    
	 Damn, this was hard.  Scully nodded. "I thought I would take Leia and Mara."    
	 The others were now silently watching the subtle jockeying.  Mulder said blandly, "I think that would work.  What's in Virginia?"  
	 "A place in Chantilly, a storage warehouse in Haymarket, ... and..."  
	 Mulder stared down at his stammering partner, now pretending suspicion, "Yes?"  
	 It all came out in a rush.  "Well, Mulder you can take the boys to Macy's at Tyson's Galleria if you want to, but I really wanted to hit the cosmetics counter while we were there."  
	 Hooting male laughter and chagrined female expressions greeted this confession.  Mulder now consulted the list, very pleased that he would not have to reveal his own agenda.  With the division, Scully had already made it possible for him to accomplish one objective-- the innocuous home in Rockville was in a neighborhood Mulder knew quite well.  The next address,  "Blockbuster in Gaithersburg," was far less interesting, but the prospect of starting trouble there.   "I suppose we could become acquainted with some nice matrons driving those dark green sports utility vehicles with the infant carriers and slobbering dogs in the back seat."  
	 Scully was now staring at her partner, trying to discern his purpose and easy acquiescence.  She offered, "Well, there's also a work address for a Circuit City, at Montgomery Mall."  She hesitated, then offered a compromise.  "I supposes we could take that one...."  
	 Mulder interrupted hurriedly, "Nah, I think we can manage one shopping mall."   
	 The talking had gone on long enough; Dana felt a tug, the remote beginning to move involuntarily out of her hand.  With a glare, she took a firm grip on it, pointing it at Luke.  "Cut it out, Skywalker, or I'll alter your functions."  Demonstrating a penchant for overacting, he groaned, clutching his hands to his chest as if stricken by a command to change his vertical hold, and did a neat flip over the side of the couch.  With some effort she returned to her hysterical partner, saying again "Mulder ..."  
	 "Scully...." he repeated.  
	 She ignored his teasing mimicking mirth.  "Do you think you can manage a day without killing, starving or losing our aliens from outer space?"  
	 He intoned with mock solemnity, "I'll try, Agent Scully."    
	 Luke piped up from the floor, "There is no try, only do," then broke into laughter at his own joke.  
	 Mulder smirked, shrugged and with a glance at a disgusted Mara added, "So, we'll stay in touch, and meet back here."    
	 Han added a serious but redundant warning. "Make sure you're all armed."    
	 Dana surrendered the remote to Mulder. "Anything else?"  
	 "If these addresses don't give us any leads to Adams, Cancer Man and the Urmari, then what?"  Mulder asked.  
	 Luke slowly picked himself up from the floor, and with a glance at Mara, quieted her intended snarl. "Then we try something else."  
	 Breaking the tension, Dana moved deliberately back to the table where Mara and Leia were encamped.  With distaste she picked up Mulder's notion of coffee and tossed it in the sink, adding the styrofoam cup to the detritus piled there.  As Mulder began an explanation of cheerleaders, the ladies swept out of the apartment to a male chorus of "Good bye, dear."  When the door slammed shut, Mulder sauntered to the television, and the old fashioned way, increased the volume, just to make certain the ladies would hear it all the way to the parking lot.  Standing in front of the TV, he arched a conspiratorial eyebrow at his partners in perversity.    
	 Stretching indolently across the sofa in a posture of disinterest, idly tossing the ball in the air, Han asked, "They gone yet?"    
	 Luke put a cautious finger to his lips, listening for the retreating presences.  Catching a whiff of feminine disgust and a car door slamming, he nodded and then let out a sigh of relief.  "Mulder, what was that all about?  I was worried we were overdoing it."  
	 Han flipped the ball to Mulder who caught it easily, no fumbling or misplaced aim with the audience gone.  As Mulder muted the TV, Han answered, "Nah.  Although I thought Jade was gonna make fish bait outta Mulder."    
	 Luke laughed, enjoying a bit of private vindication. "Better watch your step with her."  
	 Mulder snapped the ball to Luke, the sound of the leather smacking the hands of the intended receiver indicating some force behind the pass.  "And what's it to you, Skywalker?"  Mulder asked pleasantly.  
	 Luke turned the ball over, then gently, and without the Force, arced it back to Mulder.  "Only that Jade's got a ... what're the words I'm looking for Han?"  
	 Han knew the game here and played into it. "Well, since she stalked you for five years trying to kill you, I'd call it a real well-developed sense of revenge."    
	 "That's it exactly."  Luke said, with another smug chuckle.  "It'll be fun while it lasts, but be sure we know who your next of kin are."    
	 Mollified, Mulder began with relish, "Soooo, how about we go do a little sightseeing?"    Tyson's Corner, Virginia 11 AM  
	 Without a male to boss around, Mara had settled for the back seat this time, ceding "shotgun" to Leia.  As Dana drove into the giant Tyson's Center Mall, the Mecca to Northern Virginia consumerism, Mara asked, "So, what is this place, and why are we going here?"    
	 "The lead is a federal tax return for one Benjamin Adams, hair stylist, Macy's Department Store."  
	 Leia observed dryly, touching a heavy braid wrapped around her head, "If your hair stylists are anything like our hair stylists, I don't think Ben Adams will be here."  
	 "Frankly, I don't think so either."  Dana arrowed her car into a slot, agreeing.  "But you never know, and after our lipstick 101 last night, I thought we should stop at a cosmetics counter."  
	 Leia greeted this news with enthusiasm; Mara was disdainful. "I told you, there is no way I'm wearing colors and powdered stuff on my face when we go back, and anyone who says that I did is a dead woman."   
	 They had to pass through Ladies' lingerie, providing Leia and Mara with the opportunity to behold the hype that was the Wonderbra first hand.  Leia's interest waned when she saw the adjacent children's department.  To Dana she said, "Just give me a moment would you?" and without waiting for the response wandered toward the toddler toys and clothes.    
	 The paraphernalia were not all that different Leia mused, than what was in her own world.  She picked up a soft brown animal with long ears and a dapper blue waist coat, thinking how much Jacen would like it.  Clutching the animal, she toured the ranks of frilly dresses and play clothes.  The blue and white striped coveralls would probably fit Jaina by now.  Not that there would be any point in plunking down a bag of coins for the outfit; her little girl would have long outgrown the clothes by the time her mother would be able to give them to her.    
	 Leia stroked the stuffed animal's plush fur, now moving towards the infant section.  The dependency of her children when they been so small had been hard for her.  When Luke had demanded that the twins be hidden, she had reasoned that at least they would be with someone who knew what she was doing.  And although she and Han would have died to protect their children, even that parental sacrifice had almost not kept them safe the night Thrawn's commandos cut down the door of their home to steal Jacen and Jaina.  So, she had readily agreed that it was better that the twins be guarded from every despot who coveted hostages or Dark Jedi who desired a convert.  But Jacen's first word had been "Winter" for their nanny, and Jaina's had been "Noghri" for their bodyguards.    
	 Leia puzzled out the tag on the animal, reading how "Peter Rabbit" had stolen into Mr. MacGregor's garden, lost his coat with the shiny brass buttons, fell into a rain barrel, and did not get berries and cream for dinner.  She gently stroked the bunny's ears and reflected on the child who would one day own this toy. What kind of future did he or she have? Palpatine had destroyed the girl Mara had been, shredded whatever remnants of innocence Leia and Luke had ever had, murdered who knew how many billions of children in the War, and now his legacy was poised to visit another generation of misery on this world.  She returned Peter to the shelf with his sisters, the good little bunnies, Flopsy, Mopsy and Cottontail, fresh resolve now steeling her soul.  The dark plunderings should have ended years ago, should not have seeped into this galaxy, and could not permitted to corrupt childhoods here as well.  It was the incentive she needed to press on with this escapade.    
	 Leia rejoined Dana and Mara, who were standing a solemn, melancholy vigil.  Dana placed a gentle hand on Leia's arm, but she shrugged it off, "I'm fine.  Let's see if Adams is hiding here."    
	 Their approach to the Macy's hair salon was quiet and cautious.  At the entrance, Mara stopped hard.  "I'm not going in there."    
	 "But ...," Leia began to object, then discerned Mara's reluctance.  "Of course.  I can scan the area first."    
	 Dana offered, "You watch our retreat if we need it?"  Mara nodded abruptly and melted off to the side entrance to the salon.   
	 Standing quietly, Leia composed herself.  She could feel Dana's wondering stare, but ignored it, concentrating first on the people closest, noting their differences, searching for that resonance that came when she found another sensitive in the Force.  She reached slowly, moving through the area, one person at a time, losing the sense of time and of physical sensation, needing only her breathing, her search, the Force.  Then with labored gasps, she withdrew, shaking slightly with the effort.  "I don't sense anything in there, or around here.  Certainly nothing like the presence last night."  
	 Dana had tried to shield Leia during the some ten minutes it had taken.  But the salon was next to Housewares, and she could feign an interest in blenders for only so long, although she did like the looks of the Margarita pitcher.  Dana said briskly, "Well, let's just check inside to make sure."    
	 A thin, weedy young man, in very fashionable black stood behind the receptionist booth.  Soft music was piped into the mauve and dove gray tastefully decorated salon.  Leia stilled the urge to wrinkle her nose at the foul chemical odor.  As they approached the desk, the man looked up and gasped with astonishment, gaping at Leia. "Darling," he gushed, "You simply must tell me who braids your hair."    
	 Leia quelled the laugh that bubbled forth, knowing "My housekeeping droid." would be the wrong answer.     
	 Dana spared Leia the ordeal of such a conversation.   "She doesn't speak English well."  Leia nodded idiotically,  underscoring the point as Dana asked, "We're looking for Benjamin Adams. I understand he works here."  
	 The man glanced at the ledger before him, "Oh, are you my eleven thirty?"  With only their confused looks, he said, "I'm Bennie, are you my eleven thirty?"  He moved artfully across to Dana and began, uninvited, to run his fingers through her hair.  "Honey, I don't think Miss Clairol Henna Number 3 is really you."  
	 With a laughing all clear from Leia, Mara joined them, spied Bennie and muttered "trozneyha."  Leia gave her a hard nudge to be more polite.  However, the situation quickly escalated, for Bennie, breaking away from his simultaneous adoration of Leia's braids, and condemnation of Dana's cut, shrieked on seeing Mara.  "Ladies, ladies, what is with these bad hair days and cheap dye?"  
	 "I don't dye my hair," Mara snapped in Basic.    
	 Bennie's eyes went way wide and he looked at Dana inquiringly.  "She understood what you said, and says she doesn't dye her hair."  
	 Bennie shook his head, tsking, not believing a word, "Girls, that is what they all say."  Foolishly, unknowingly Bennie boldly approached Mara, and began fingering her hair.  "You need a deep conditioner, a trim to get rid of the nasty split ends, and ohhh, that color.  What is that, Preference by L'Oreal Brown Spice?"  
	 Mara growled, "Dana, tell him my hair is red gold."    
	 Dana did so, and Benny just laughed.  "So which of you is first?"  The ladies fled.   Montgomery County, Maryland 11:45 AM   
	 "So, what is it we're REALLY doing, Mulder?" Han asked as they arced off the Washington beltway on to a wide, busy and truly ugly suburban shopping strip.  He was all for going along with misleading the women, but now it was time for Mulder to fess up.  Whatever Mulder got them into, Han knew he would have to face Leia afterwards.  He had learned long ago that with Leia, knowing was only a matter of time.   
	 Mulder grinned wickedly. "Relax. I told you, we're just going to check out the addresses, have a little fun, do a little... sightseeing."   
	 Han and Luke exchanged wary looks.  Neither thought Mulder seemed like the tourist type.  Even without Force-enhanced suspicions, both figured there was going to be plenty of explaining to do before day's end.    
	 Luke looked on with interest as Mulder brought the car to a stop beside a large metallic box and slid a thin card into the slot. "What's this place?" he asked.   
	 "Oh, an ATM. Automated Teller Machine." Mulder explained as he punched in his access code. "It's a computerized machine that gives you money, for a nominal fee, of course."    
	 "We've got money," Luke offered, shoving the bag of coins over the seat to jangle near Mulder's ear.  Although Luke thought the thin cards that Dana and Mulder had used to pay for dinner were more efficient, he had brought the bag of this planet's money along just in case.    
	 Han injected, "Yeah, Mulder, we actually should stop at a phone booth and get some more."  
	 Mulder choked back a laugh at the logo on the side of the bag. "Uh...no, that's okay," he managed. "My treat."     
	 Fifteen minutes later they pulled up to a typical suburban home, children's toys littering the front, neat rows of orange and yellow mums dotting the walk and a Humvee parked in front.  A bumper sticker on the back bumper read, "Lawyers Do It In Their Briefs."  One look at the place, and Mulder, Han and Luke all muttered with one voice, "I don't think so."  
	 Sitting in the car, Luke nevertheless went through the routine, scanning the area through the Force.  "There is a man, a woman, three children I think, and some animals."  
	 Mulder got out of the car, "You two wait here, I won't be long."    
	 Han and Luke watched as he went to the front door, and spoke with the woman, and then the man who appeared at the threshold.  Monitoring the tenor of the conversation, Luke picked up a very strong, visceral, and distasteful reaction from Mulder.  He told Han, "Mulder is very disturbed about something."  
	 Han was halfway out the car before Luke stopped him. "No, nothing alarming... just disagreeable."  
	 Mulder returned a few moments later, face screwed into a grimace.  As he started the car, Han asked, "What happened Mulder?  We almost came after you."    
	 Shaking his head with disgust, Mulder swore.  "I wasn't in danger unless I tripped on the Big Wheel in Adams' front yard or rear ended his suburban assault vehicle."  
	 The translators were ineffective, Luke asking, "Uh, in English please Mulder."    
	 "Sorry.  I just really hate those guys," Mulder muttered with revulsion.  
	 "Who?"  Han and Luke both asked, mystified.  
	 "Benjamin G. Adams the Third, Esquire.  He's a lawyer."  
	 The car reverberated with expressions of loathing and fear, confirming that parasites of one galaxy are indeed much like parasitic life forms in another.  Mulder sprinted them away from the True-Green Chem Lawn perfect landscape, thinking, now, even more than before, they needed a diversion.  "Okay, gentlemen, next stop: food with a view."  
	 A mile later, Mulder pulled the car into the parking lot of a squat orange and brown building.  A large orange sign decorated the front with some kind of bird and giant O's where the bird's eyes should be.  Han and Luke looked at the sight with mild interest.  Mulder's obvious attraction to the place could certainly not be attributed to its outside decor.  Perhaps the food was good.   
	 "Come on," Mulder urged as he headed up the wooden walk.  Entering the front door, the allure of the restaurant was immediately apparent as a young woman dressed in a gravity-defying halter top approached. "Smoking or non?" she asked with a smile.   
	 Luke made an effort not to gape, while Han and Mulder returned the pleasantries.  "Non," Mulder answered.  
	 "Right this way then."  She grabbed three menus and swayed towards a table.  Seating the human and two aliens, she motioned another young woman near the bar.  "Drinks?"   
	 Believing in contributions to the franchise, even if it meant inappropriate product placements, and certain that  Han and Luke were likely operating under some type of  restriction regarding the consumption of Coca Cola, Mulder  spoke for the group, "Pepsi, all around."   
	 Luke was thinking something to drink might be a good idea since his mouth had just gone dry.  "Very good," the hostess purred with a dazzling flash of white teeth.  "Holly, your waitress, will be with you in just a moment."    
	 "Sightseeing, huh?" Han murmured in Mulder's direction as the hostess swung toward the bar.   
	 "...and a little physics all rolled into one," Mulder deadpanned, as Holly now approached.    
	 Holly's hair was almost as big as the blonde from the night before, Han noted with detached interest.  And she was similarly providing instructive lessons in the science of movement and gravity.  "I'm Holly, and I'm here to serve you today."  She set the three drinks on the table, then slid into the fourth seat, smiling so broadly her jaw might crack.  "Are you ready to order or do you need more time?"     
	 "Uh...we're ready," Mulder spoke up. "Three manly-man combination platters."  
	 "Okay."  Holly smiled her approval and laboriously wrote the request down on a little pad, one careful letter after another.  "And would you like your's mild, hot or really hot?" she turned boldly, with an extra large smile, to ask Luke.   
	 The Jedi flushed deep red, embarrassment rendering him even more inarticulate than usual around the fairer sex.  "Uh...?" He looked pleadingly to Mulder for assistance, but the FBI agent was choking on his Pepsi.  
	 Holly glanced at Mulder and then back to Luke.  She cooed.  "Oh, I can tell.  You're shy."  She gently touched his arm.  "I'll bet you like your's *really* hot."   
	 Luke jumped as Han kicked him under the table, Holly evidently taking the startled prod as a "yes."  "I thought so."  She smiled and turned to the other two men for their preferences.  As she moved one deliberate hip at a time away from them towards the kitchen, Mulder and Han burst into laughter as Luke dropped his face into his hands, mortified.  "Just try not to drool, okay, kid?  It embarrasses us."  Han chortled.  
	 Mulder was about to make a comment of his own when familiar theme music and raucous laughter spilled out of the slowly closing doors of a private meeting room.  A young, blonde waitress, leaving the room, was juggling a tray of empty beer mugs and wearing a very disgusted look and, Han discerned, another of those anti-gravity devices that seemed so common in the restaurant.  Mulder waved her over.  "What's going on in there?"   
	 With a weary sigh, she confessed the ugly truth to an incredulous, and thrilled, Mulder.  "You're kidding?"  He asked with barely contained excitement.   
	 "I wish I were."    
	 Mulder glanced at his friends, then uttered a distracted, "Be right back."   
	 Luke and Han watched curiously as Mulder sauntered towards the room.  As he disappeared behind the swinging door, Luke said, "You know, I've got a really bad feeling about this."   
	 A moment later, Mulder poked his head out of the door, and waved his friends over.   
	 Luke and Han entered the meeting room with mild trepidation and cautiously peered around at the dozen or so individuals staring fixedly at a large vid screen centered along the far wall.  When a dark-haired man carrying a fuzzy ball-like object appeared on the vid, every man in the room shouted, "Drink!" and tossed back the yellowish liquid Han and Luke had come to know as "beer."   
	 They looked to Mulder for explanation.  "Trouble with Tribbles drinking game," he answered with a grin, then added, "Welcome to the Hooter's Fifth Annual Redneck Trouble With Tribbles Convention.

*	*	*	*
	 On Macy's first floor, Dana was, like the investigative agent she was, scanning the cosmetic counters.  With glee, she grabbed Mara in one hand and Leia in the other and dragged them towards the white, silver, and green displays to stand in line with ten other impatient women.  If Leia went willingly, Mara was more reluctant.  Leia was able to interpret the large sign: "It's Clinique Bonus Time Again."   
	 Dana gushed, "Clinique is offering a really good bonus this month, so I thought we should pick something up."    
	 Leia was stunned.  "Dana," she asked, "Is Clineek the name of a brand of women's cosmetics here too?"  
	 "Well, I think the pronunciation is a little different, and I doubt very much that Clinique here has licensed a franchise in your galaxy."  Examining the eye shadows, Dana added, "And besides, the line is copyrighted and trademarked.  A galaxy's distance would not keep the copyright attorneys from protecting the Clinique intellectual property."  
	 Leia simply nodded, bewildered.  
	 There was a rude guffaw from Mara as she inspected the sample blushes and highlighters on the counter.  With an evil glint, she asked "Leia, wasn't Clineek one of Rogue's Squad's old attack patterns during the War?"   
	 "Mara, you **know** there's no truth whatsoever to those old rumors," Leia said through a scowl.  
	 Dana did not miss the edge that had crept into the conversation, even through the translator.  "Rogue Squad?"   
	 Leia became mute with a glare at Mara, who went on with merry malice, "Rogue was Skywalker's old flight squad during the War.  They had a flight maneuver they called Attack Pattern Clineek, named after a brand of high-priced women's cosmetics.  Let's say that it fueled certain rumors ..."  
	 Leia flushed, with a little anger, more humor, and knowing just the comeback, "Mara, are you saying that you don't know the truth by now from personal experience?"  
	 Their approach to the counter prevented any further salvos, Dana buying Dubonnet lipstick for Leia and First Blush for herself.  Mara resolutely refused, only to relent when she saw the wisdom of a bottle of Dramatically Different Moisturizer for those long, intergalactic space trips.  All received their bonus packages.  
	 On the return to the car, Leia first and then Mara stopped dead, transfixed, puzzled expressions on their faces.  That their abrupt halt occurred in a revolving door out of the Mall nearly caused a serious accident.  With Han's example, Dana was beginning to identify the symptoms-- "Crazy Jedi Thing".  Without a word, she hurriedly dialed Mulder's cell phone.  In the background she heard loud music that nearly drowned out the voice, "Mulder."  
	 "Mulder, it's me.  What's going on?"  With one hand she was holding the phone and with the other extricating Mara and Leia from the door.  
	 The unmistakable words "DRINK" echoed over the phone.  "Mulder...." she warned.  "Where are you?"    
	 Leia and Mara were now listening, Leia explaining, "I was picking up some very strange feelings and images from Luke.  Mara picked up a little bit too."  
	 Scully heard again "DRINK!!" and what she thought was Mulder's muffled laughter.  "Mulder, where did you take them?"  
	 More laughter, then Mulder's voice.  "Well, we checked out the first address, wrong Adams.  And we were hungry, and you **told** me not to starve or lose them, so we stopped at a restaurant."  
	 Scully heard "Drink! Drink! Drink!" and the more disconcerting sounds of men hooting.  She suddenly remembered where that first address was on Mulder's list and what establishments were in the immediate vicinity; establishments that she knew appealed to her partner's proclivities.  "Mulder!" she said the name like a curse.  "You didn't!!."  
	 "Uh huh."  
	 "You took Han and Luke to .....!!!"  Dana could not finish the sentence, simply too mortified for words.  
	 "Uh huh."  
	 She hung up on him, fuming, infuriated.  Leia and Mara were staring, leaving Dana to wonder just what images from Luke had prompted the reaction in the first place.  She definitely agreed with Han; there was not enough money in the universe that would be worth that kind of telepathic link with someone.  
	 Leia looked a little flushed, exasperation, anger and amusement warring across her face.  "Why do I think that I will be demanding an explanation from my husband?"  

*	*	*	*
	 After Scully hung up, Mulder directed them to a table in the back. "Souvenirs," he explained. "You have to have something to remember this galaxy by."  A sign on the table stated:  Tribble Accessories.   
	 "Luke," Mulder, handed a black T-shirt to the Jedi, "this is for you, and Han, this one's for you.  These are for the girls."  Mulder held up three pink shirts with the words: "I accessorize with Tribbles."  Mulder also snagged a plastic bag filled with the varicolored furballs.  Just what Scully would want for Christmas, he was certain.  Mulder was already wearing his choice for a T-shirt.  "What do the Enterprise and toilet paper have in common?" was splattered across the front beneath a still of a space ship.  Turning, he displayed the back of the shirt for Han and Luke, which meant nothing to his two friends, aside from the picture's uncanny resemblance to the seventh planet in the Earth's system.   
	 Luke wiggled into his shirt and gazed down at the indecipherable words printed across the front: "I'm an EBE of the highest order."    
	"What's an EBE?" Luke asked.  
	Mulder grinned. "Oh nothing," he said breezily, not about to admit that it was ufologist speak for "Extraterrestrial Biological Entity."  
	Han's shirt had one word:  "Engage."  "What does Han's say?" Luke murmured warily, unsure if he really wanted to know.  There was something about Mulder's sense just now.  
	Mulder was saved from a reply when the word "Drink!" was again yelled in unison around the little room, followed by frantic guzzling of more beer and boisterous laughter.    
	 "What'd you say this was again, Mulder?" Han asked with interest.  
	 "The Trouble with Tribbles drinking game," Mulder explained again. "You see a tribble, you drink. You see a Klingon, you drink. Simple rules."   
	 "Tribbles? Klingons?" There was obviously no translation into Basic for those words.  
	 "Yeah," Mulder pointed out the furry critters on the wide screen. "And the green guys with the funny eyebrows are the Klingons."   
	 "What? You never heard of Star Trek?" one of the men boomed louder than was necessary from nearby table.    
	 "Careful," Mulder murmured. "Watch yourself.  These trekkies tend to get a little up tight about--"   
	 "Who you calling a TREKKIE?!"  A burly bearded man wearing green vulcan ears grabbed Mulder about the collar and shoved him toward the table.   
	 "My mistake," Mulder held up a hand to ward off the angry giant. "Trekker."   
	 After a lingering look, Mulder's assailant growled under boozy breath, "No problem.  We just take exception to that label."  The man's face then burst into a wide grin and he clapped a beefy arm painfully around Mulder's shoulders. "I like you!" he announced. "Come on over here and sit down."   
	 "No...I can't," Mulder objected. "My friends and I have our food waiting...out..." He pointed vaguely in the direction of the dining room.  
	 "Sit!" the man commanded pulling up a chair.  He spied Han and Luke edging towards the door and ordered, "Tell your friends to come, too."    
	 Catching a desperate look from Mulder, Han muttered to Luke, "Better do a Jedi thing, real quick."    
	 Luke nodded, and with a deep breath and flick of his finger, Mulder's new found, voluble, volatile friend collapsed, sliding with a crash to the floor and almost bringing Mulder down with him.  Mulder bolted up, getting clear of the wreckage.    
	 The rednecks all rose as to the man, indignant that one of their own had been struck down.  Ignorant to the cause, but suspicious as to the means, they turned on the strangers in their midst.  "He hit Chris!!" a man shouted.  Picking up a chair, he hurled it in Luke's general direction, large men in yellow and red polyester shirts and strange ears following right behind the chair.  
	 Fists, chairs, beer, Trekkers, ears and fur flew, finally interrupted with the squealing whistle of George, Hooter's bouncer.  He hustled Han, Luke and Mulder out of the room.  The three were none the worse for the exercise.  The same could not be said for the rednecks who now sported bloodied noses and black eyes.  The very irritated management insisted that Mulder fork over his VISA card to cover the costs for the t shirts, three Pepsi's, three manly-man-meals-to-go, four broken chairs, a tray of smashed mugs and thirty-five beer-soaked tribbles. 

*	*	*	*
 Haymarket, Virginia 1:10 PM  

	 An electric blue oldsmobile screeched to a sudden stop.  It then reversed until it was even with an old mailbox, mostly obscured by tall grass, looking as if the next stiff breeze would be its last.  
	  The two red heads and the brunette gazed measuringly at the first sign of life for the past 10 miles. The faded, peeling remnants of the words 'Rural Storage, Inc.' marked the old box as the object of their search.  
	 "This must be the place." Dana was the first to speak.   
	 "Doesn't look like anyone's been here in a while, though," Leia pointed out, looking beyond to a narrow dirt path nearly overtaken by tall grass and assorted natural debris.   
	 "Maybe," Mara spoke up. Something about this place didn't sit well with her.    
	 Dana, quietly agreeing with Mara, cast a look back down the narrow road. It stretched as empty behind them as it had during the majority of their journey. Satisfied that they had not been followed, she pulled slowly on to the dirt path.  
	 The car twisted and bumped along the narrow path for another mile or two before the top of a large brick structure became visible through the trees.  Dana pulled to a stop where the path ended, at a barbed-wire fence and sturdy metal gate, complete with a padlock and KEEP OUT sign.   
	 They approached the barrier cautiously, peering through the wire at the decrepit warehouse.  "Do you think they mean us?" Mara asked dryly when she saw the sign's translation on Leia's scanner. Her blaster was already out of her holster.   
	  "No, Mara, wait!" Dana exclaimed as Mara took casual aim. "We don't want to leave any evidence that might lead to us, or be otherwise unexplainable. Give me a sec."    
	 Mara and Leia exchanged curious looks as the red headed FBI agent headed for her trunk at a jog.  She reappeared with a large device vaguely resembling a pair of giant pliers.  Both moved in for a better view as she slid the device around the lock and with a grunt, pushed the two handles together.  The lock snapped in two.   
	 While the other women looked on, unimpressed, Dana efficiently picked up the pieces and headed back toward her trunk.   
	 Mara watched her go, eyeing the unwieldy contraption disdainfully. She could think of half a dozen better ways to deal with such a pesky and archaic device.  None of them involved much more than the twitch of a finger.  But then, she thought, their world, their ridiculous tools.  
	 The warehouse sat several dozen yards beyond the gate and was surrounded by a lower gate. To one side was a circular cement-topped clearing with green markers around its perimeter.  
	  "Helipad." Dana stated, gesturing for the benefit of her companions. "They can airlift things in here.  That explains why that road wasn't used.  I wonder what a little--" Suddenly the sound of squeaking motion interrupted.   
	  All three women snapped to high alert status, all eyes focused on the gate, weapons waiting.   
	 There was no one there.   
	 The low gate had simply been left unlatched, swinging gently in the fluttering, warm breeze.   
	 Dana and Leia lowered their weapons with shaky sighs. Mara, however, did not, continuing to scan the area. "Do you sense anyone here?" she asked Leia.   
	 Leia shook her head, understanding.  Though there was all manner of life, she had not as yet detected any other humans.  "No.  Nothing Force sensitive, anyway."  
	 Mara nodded her acceptance.  Still, each, whether fed by the Force, or some other instinct of training and self-preservation, kept her weapon at the ready as they started toward the open gate.  The fact that the cement walkway and the grass had been cared for recently did not go unnoticed.   
	 Expecting the warehouse to reflect the same crumbling disuse and decay as the fences and road, it was instead, tightly and securely shuttered, and thoroughly impenetrable.  "Should we just ring the bell?" Dana observed as they approached the front door.  The door itself was unusually tall and wide with no visible handles or knobs, only a small recessed control pad. Dana couldn't recall having ever seen one of its like.  Leia and Mara, though, had no such trouble.    
	 Seeing the glance pass between Leia and Mara, Dana queried, "What is it?"   
	 "Standard Imperial locking device," Mara uttered the words grimly. This was the place.   
	 "Can you break it?" Leia asked   
	 Mara was already at work. "If they've stuck to the standard code structure, there should be a back door for little old me," she said with an edge of bitterness.  Swiftly entering the code, the three stepped back, gazing expectantly at the big door.    
	 Nothing happened.   
	 "And then again, there's more than one way to filet an ewok."
	In one fluid motion, Mara retrieved her lightsaber and slashed neatly through one side of the door.  She then cut another swath and another, creating a ragged doorway. She stood back with a satisfied smile. "Leia?"  
	 Leia returned the smile, "My pleasure, Mara dear."  And Leia Organa Solo, New Republic Senator, expertly kicked in the 'door.'  
	  Seconds after the plate hit the floor, Leia and Mara were inside, swallowed up by the dark interior.  Dana entered a little slower, her eyes having been caught by what used to be six inches of some quasi-metallic material, melted and singed where it had contacted the blade.  So much for leaving no evidence.  A heavy metallic clang drew her out of her hypnotic study of Mara's handiwork.    
	 Gun ready, she turned toward the sound, Leia and Mara at either side.  The clanking continued, drawing closer in the thick darkness.  All three women dashed away from the light that filtered into the door, seeking scant cover in the gloom.  At their movements, the sounds picked up the pace, moving more quickly toward their position.   
	 Mara reached out with the Force, searching for the source and was surprised to find nothing. A second later she lost touch with the Force all together. It was obvious from Leia's gasp that she'd felt it too.   
	 "What?!" Dana whispered aloud with sudden dread. "What is it?!"   
	 "Something's blocking the Force," Leia replied. "Probably ysalamiri."   
	 "Ysalamiri?" Dana echoed.  
	 Mara muttered something the translator didn't even bother with.  "They repel the Force.  If Leia or I are within their sphere, we can't reach the Force."  As the metal thunking grew ever closer, Mara swore again, and turning toward the sounds, ran off into the darkness.  
	 "Mara!" Dana hissed into the darkness, then spun toward Leia. "What's she doing?"   
	 "Oh, just being Mara," Leia shrugged. "Ideas?"   
	 "Yeah, feel along the walls and let me know if you find anything."   
	 Both women edged along the cool concrete.  Dana was the one to find it. "I think I got it," she called to Leia.  Leia's reply was cut off by a loud curse and a metal clang.   
	 "Mara!" Leia called out worriedly as Dana clicked the breakers in rapid succession, dimly illuminating the cavernous space.  
	  Dana's relief at the small victory was short-lived. The light revealed Mara tangled at the foot of what looked to Dana to be the cartoon Giagantor robot of her youth come to life.  It stood a full twenty feet high, its huge, menacing head tracking toward the breaker box where she stood.    
	 Meanwhile, Mara scuttled up from the floor, barely even with the thing's jointed kneecap.  "There!"  Leia yelled, calling to Mara.  "The pack on its back.  The ysalamiri are in there."  Dana saw small furry, mammal-like creatures staring out of a transparent pack affixed to the robot's back.  
	 Spying it too, Mara quickly ignited her light saber, throwing it up toward the pack.  She scored a direct hit. The case shattered and fizzled out, killing the animals inside. In mid-air the light saber arched unnaturally and came to rest in Mara's right hand.  The blaster was already firing in her left.   
	 At the first sign of aggression, the robot's once flat black pupils, began to glow red.  A moment later twin bursts of flashing laser fire shot out, tearing up the concrete floor around its intended prey.   
	 Leia and Dana, not to be left out of the fun, took the opening and moved in toward the robot as it shot another laser salvo at the former assassin.  As Mara blocked a burst with her light saber, Leia came up on one side of the robot, firing her blaster toward the left side of the monster's head. Its glowing pupils split tasks, one focused on Mara and the other on Leia.  The laser battery alternated between the two women, churning up cement shrapnel with each blast.  
	 Realizing the thing's attention was divided, Dana seized the moment.  Ducking behind a crate, she aimed for the eyes directly. Taking out one of the laser batteries would give Leia and Mara some relief.  A squeeze of the trigger, and one of the red pupils exploded in a flash of smoke and fire.  The other burst in a shower of sparks seconds later as the one set off the explosion in the other.   
	 In the aftermath, the robot tilted forward and crashed to the warehouse floor. Mara and Leia were standing over it breathing heavily when Dana approached. She gave it an experimental nudge with her foot, "What is this thing?"   
	 "It's a BUF220 robo-sentry," Leia informed them. "And obviously protecting something pretty important.  Looks like from over there."  A door stood invitingly open at the opposite end of the warehouse. "What say we have a look?"   
	 "BUF?"  Mara queried as the women started off toward the door.  "I don't remember that one.  Was it Imperial?"   
	 Leia nodded. "Actually it was Old Republic commercial, Big Ugly...uh, it was a project that never really got off the ground.  They were used for diplomatic transport and as sentries.  Residential guardians of sorts. Unfortunately they had a bad habit of ...um, eliminating their charges. It seems that many diplomats exhibited the same erratic behavior as criminals."  
	 Dana harmuphed. "Well, Robocop should feel right at home in this galaxy."   
	 "Robocop?" Leia questioned.  The translator had all but choked on that word.   
	 "Nevermind," Dana murmured. They were at the door, and all were surprised to find that it was an elevator.   
	 All three women stepped cautiously inside.  The only choice available was down.  Dana did the honors.  When the elevator finally came to a stop, all three women felt that they were ready for whatever lay on the other side of the door.  None were.   
	 The sounds of creaking insects and wild life spilled into the elevator as the doors opened, followed by dense, cool humidity.  The three stepped stunned out into what appeared to be for all intents and purposes a chilly jungle.  The sound overhead of a large slithering creature and scales against foliage brought them all around sharply.  Mara shot it. It hit the ground with watery thunk and continued to twitch.   
	  Mara shot it again.  
	 Dana tried to hide the chill, not entirely due to the cold,  that she got at the sight and sound of the maliciously fanged and very large lizard's last dying scrapes. She did not want to think of whether or not it had buddies, or what those buddies ate.  That speculation abruptly ceased when her eyes fell on something glowing white along a row of giant black leafed plants.  The unmistakable shape of a human skull told the story.   
	  When she turned to report her findings, she saw that Leia and Mara had vanished among the dark, damp foliage.  She cast about, gun drawn, trying to discern what had happened to the women.  Her heart skipped a beat and must have stopped altogether when she heard blaster fire coming from within the forest.  
	 "...that should do it," Mara was saying as she stuffed her blaster in a holster.  She and Leia stood examining a small grouping of trees, all smoldering.  They glanced up casually at Dana's rapid approach.    
	  "What? That should do what?"  Dana knew her voice was a little higher than usual.   
	  Mara leveled her with a considering look before answering. "Ysalamiri have a symbiotic relationship with these trees.  They feed off of them, live in them."  Mara explained. "Or used to," she smirked. Gazing around the habitat for something else to use for target practice, her expression suddenly froze.   
	 A low growl sounded to the left of the little group. A second later, a hulking black shadow of a creature with a writhing whip-like tail shot through the air toward Mara.  Dana and Leia had their weapons up in a flash, the creature was dead before it hit the ground.   
	 "Vornskrs!" Mara swore, kicking at the dead animal. "And there's more coming this way."   
	 "How many?"   
	 "Six. No, seven," Mara bit out, searching with the Force for a clue as to the direction the attack might come from.   
	 Dana checked her gun and prepared for the assault. It was a short wait.  One snarling gray shape hurled itself at Mara as another leaped from a tree directly in front of Dana, crouching, to spring.  Mara shot the first.  Dana blocked out what the animal's rendering front claws and fangs would do to her.  As the vornskr lunged, Dana got off two shots and Mara added blaster fire.  With the combined impact, the thing flipped over, its momentum knocking Dana to the ground face first. In the next instant, snapping vornskrs streamed into the smoky clearing.    
	 Another of the howling creatures was stalking Leia, who was backed up to a tree.  She shot it in mid-leap, and it fell heavily, landing on top of Dana and its fallen companion.  Dana struggled to free herself from beneath two heavy, foul, black carcasses.     
	 Mara had her light saber trained on another as Leia fended off two more of the advancing creatures.  Leia buried blaster bolts into one as Dana squirmed free to fire off her remaining rounds into the other.  How many had Mara said there were?  Seven?   
	 Leia had obviously already come to the same conclusion because she too was frantically searching the dense foliage for any sign of the final animal.  Dana struggled to her feet, slapping another round in her gun, joining Leia in an anxious scan.  
	 Just as Mara sliced the head off the animal that had been circling her, the last vornskr appeared silent and deadly. It timed its attack beautifully, as Mara was most vulnerable, pulling her saber from the decapitated vornskr.  Its tail whipped out to strike her around the neck.  Mara barely saw it coming.   
	 Leia vaulted forward, slicing the tail off as Dana buried two shots into the vornskr's exposed flank.  Its hind quarters smashed Mara in the shoulder, knocking her to the ground. Her light saber rolled into the bush.   
	 The wounded animal landed several feet away, howling ferociously with pain.  In a half a second it focused its rage on a slightly stunned Mara.  She turned over just in time to see it spring.   
	 Dana shot again, as Mara, rolling out of the path of the leaping vornskr, called a blaster into her hand and nailed the creature in the head.  Leia, simultaneously, threw her light saber end over end at the creature in mid-lunge.   
	 When all was said and done, the creature was shot by three bullets, blasted in the head and sliced by Leia's saber.  Very dead.  Unfortunately, Leia had not yet mastered the art of calling the saber back to her after an end over end toss.  It landed tip first into one of the reinforced walls before automatically closing down.   
	 "Oops," Leia murmured as a thin spray of water erupted from the wall.   
	 "I think you hit a pipe," Dana informed her.  The water was beginning to come in faster.   
	 "You know," Leia spoke up, reclaiming her lightsaber. "I think we've more than met our damage quota.  Let's get out of here."

*	*	*	*
Gaithersburg, Maryland 2:15 PM   
	 Mulder had warned them, but the intrepid aliens had assumed that after Death Stars, Dark Jedi and wampas, how bad could it be, right?  Nothing however, had prepared them for the pandemonium of a suburban video store on a Saturday.  Dodging the minivans, matrons, toddlers and Golden Retrievers, they wove their treacherous way into the Blockbuster.  With a phone jammed in his ear, glasses askew, multi-colored spiky hair, and pierced nose, Ben Adams, assistant manager, was simultaneously arguing with a woman about a late charge for "Red Shoe Diaries," stacking piles of returned cassettes and manually rewinding the strewn, black celluloid tape of "Sabrina" with a pencil.    
	 Mulder's cell rang again while he was paying for  previously viewed copies of "Reality Bites" and "Dracula."  He let go of his newly acquired treasures only long enough to put the phone to his ear. "Mulder." He listened a moment before speaking again. "Vornskrs?" he asked, bewildered, fumbling for bag and wallet.    
	 Han snagged the phone from Mulder, and he and Luke headed out the door.  Mulder rejoined them as Luke and Han were disconnecting, grim concern stamped on their features.  "Vornskrs?"  Mulder repeated, realizing there was a long story to tell.    
	 Han spoke, "Yeah.  No Adams, but we're on the right track.  Dana, Mara and Leia just killed a bunch of animals from our galaxy that hunt through the Force.  And for good measure, killed a slew of ysalamiri."    
	 Responding to the unasked, Luke explained, "It's an animal that repels the Force.  If a Force sensitive person is too close to ysalamiri, he or she loses contact with the Force."  
	 Hurrying now to the car, with nervous glances about them, Mulder queried, "What were they doing in a Virginia warehouse?"  
	 Luke was uncharacteristically harsh.  "Palpatine and the Urmari used vornskrs to hunt Force sensitives and ysalamiri to render them helpless.  They are probably being used here for a similar purpose."  
	 Back in Mulder's car, they crawled out of the crowded parking lot, now headed to the last Adams on their list.  Han finally broke the worried silence, "We're getting closer, aren't we?"  
	 Luke nodded.

*	*	*	*
Location Unknown   
	 He felt the creature's wrath long before it even entered the building.  He had hoped to forestall the encounter, but the Urmari would not be denied their audience.  It burst into the smoky, closed room, red eyed and wild, and in a not-too-subtle aside, sporting the form of the late Grand Admiral Thrawn.  Saliva dribbled down its chin, more beast than human.  Cancer Man remained seated, with years of practice, he was able to face down even the Urmari killing wrath.  
	 "You have heard," the monster accused.  
	 "Yes.  Most unfortunate.  How many did you lose?"  
	 It hissed, "All that were there are dead.  The women killed them all.  The Skywalker and the one you called Jade were there.  The other, Scully was there as well."    
	 Now Cancer Man was sharp, "What of the ysalamiri?  Do any remain at the Vespiary?"  
	 "Of course some remain," it said, with a malicious, hungry grimace.  "We could not feed there otherwise."  
	 He waved his hand irritably, hoping to dismiss the monster. "This is a minor setback.  We can continue, the plan is unaffected."  
	 With a glowering, angry stare, it advanced, now standing over the seated, smoky one, "Urmari care nothing of your plan.  There is only the bargain and our hunger.  There must be compensation for our loss, for this outrage.  The Skywalkers are as difficult here as there.  The Vespiary demand Jade."  
	 Animal lust was met in kind, softly, threat lacing the words, "I told you, Jade is mine."  
	 An exhaled, smiling puff, and the Urmari now stepped back, more uncertain, smelling a barter.  Licking its lips, it said after a time, "But we must be compensated, or we will not continue our work."  
	 "Of course.  I believe we may bargain.  I can deliver the elusive Skywalkers to you personally."  
	 Hunger warred with mistrust, as the monster consulted silently with the others in the Urmari Vespiary.  Cancer Man waited.  
	 Finally it spoke.  "The loss is too great.  Mere delivery of the meat will not suffice.  We still will take Jade.  You cannot stop us."  
	 With a gesture of finality, Cancer Man extinguished one butt, and deliberately lighted another before continuing.  "But my friend, I did not explain **how** I shall deliver them to you."

*	*	*	*
Route 66 Faquier County, Virginia 2:45 PM  
	 The adrenaline was still pumping as the lethal ladies crawled through the morass of traffic typical to Northern Virginia on a Saturday.  Dana had known, at some intellectual level, that Mara and Leia were as fully competent as she.  Until she saw them both calmly blast those leaping, raging creatures, however, she had never actually thought of these two petite, cool women as trained killers.  Experience had proven otherwise.  
	 Leia looked up from her careful inspection of Mara's hold out blaster.  "This is a custom job, isn't it Mara?  I've never seen one with this kind of power pack."  
	 "Karrde has a special supplier.  He's kept me in blasters and packs for a couple of years now."  
	 "Power's always such a problem with the standard Q2.  I really like the configuration.  Do you think he could make one for me?"  Leia was frankly admiring.  
	 Mara guffawed from the back seat.  "I can't quite see a New Republic Councillor with a blaster that's been banned in over twenty systems."  
	 Leia shrugged and returned the weapon to Mara.  "My husband carries one that's been banned in more than that, including Coruscant.  I'd like to try it."  
	 "Well, you've got a nice looking Defender there," Mara said, peeking over the seat at the blaster cradled in Leia's lap.  "That's the new model year, isn't it?  Dana what do you carry?"  
	 Dana matched the casual tone. "It's what we call a semi-automatic.  Smith & Wesson, Compact, ten millimeter, equivalent to a 40 caliber.  FBI standard issue 10.  Carries eight rounds in the magazine, that is in the ammunition."  
	 "Eight!!" Mara gasped, aghast, Leia adding her own chagrin, "So in the middle of a fire fight you have to reload?"  
	 "We haven't quite reached blaster technology yet."  Dana was a tad defensive.    
	 "Dana, you should try something with real fire power," Leia urged.    
	 She hesitated, then confessed, with a glance at Leia's blaster, "Actually, I'd love to try one."  
	 "Is there somewhere we can go for a little target practice?"  Mara was very obliging, having a hankering to try Dana's  old-fashioned, but very capable fire arm.    
	 "According to Commonwealth of Virginia property tax records, Benjamin Adams is the proprietor of the Couldn't You Just Die Gun Shoppe.  I'm sure we can find a spot nearby."   
	 Flexing her fingers, Leia commented, "Didn't you all get enough vornskr meat?"  
	 Dana saw the opening and asked, "What were those things anyway?"  
	 Mara becoming sullenly mute again left Leia to explain.  "As we said, ysalamiri and vornskrs are native to a planet in our galaxy.  You can't reach the Force, or use it, sense or be sensed if you are within a ysalamiri Force bubble.  Vornskrs are drawn to any Force aura; that's how they hunt."   
	 "So that's why they went after you and Mara?"  
	 "Yes," Leia said.  "The Urmari are probably using them to hunt and incapacitate Force sensitives here."  
	 Mara added ominously from the back seat, "And I can't see them being all that pleased with us that we killed their pets."  
	 With the looming threat, Leia's fingers convulsively sought the hard, cold metal of her blaster, and then the rounded smoothness of her light saber.  "No," she said softly, "I don't imagine they will be very pleased at all."   
	  Couldn't You Just Die Chantilly, VA  
	 The "Couldn't You Just Die" Gun Shoppe was one of those places that dot rural four lane highways throughout the Southeastern United States:  signs proclaiming "Good" as opposed to "palatable," "fresh," or "edible" food; convenience stores; vegetable stands; flea markets, Veterans' of Foreign Wars outposts; gun shops.  "CYJD" was typical of the genre; a modest frame building with a giant plastic bear on the roof, just above a bright red sign which declared "GUNS GUNS GUNS."    
	 As Mara and Leia gaped at the not very life like animals, Dana wondered how she was going to explain Mid-America kitsch.  She pulled into the gravelly lot, parking next to a gray El Camino with a gun rack and bumper stickers that read "God, Guts And Guns Built America; Let's keep all three" and "God Bless Ollie."  The lot was dotted with similarly battered, American made cars, similarly adorned:  "Impeach Hillary"; "More people have died in Ted Kennedy's back seat than from nuclear power"; "protected by Smith & Wesson"; and to inflame the ladies' further, "I got it at Hooters."  The crack popping of gun shots echoed, prompting Dana's observation, "Sounds like there's a shooting range in the back."  
	 They watched the building from the car.  Repeating again the exercise from Macy's, Leia shut her eyes, rhythmically breathing, searching for senses that were invisible to Dana, and which Mara now shunned.  She pulled out of her trance with a sigh, "Nothing remotely Force sensitive in the area that I can tell."    
	 Dana muttered, "And probably not much intelligent life either."  
	 They bundled out of the car, all now feeling a bit edgy from their last encounter, but at this location more likely to encounter hazards of the testosterone variety, every bit as alien as a vornskr, and almost as frightening.  The ladies entered the building cautiously, moving past the vending machine distributing nightcrawlers, and cardboard signs declaring "Live Bait" and "Booze and Ammo Sold Here."    
	 The inside was as inspiring as the outside was not:  floor to ceiling weapons.  Mara and Leia both gasped, awed.  It was an incredible sight, which save the arsenal, could only be described as post-modern tacky.  Multiple animal corpses adorned the store, and, had Mara and Leia had a better grasp of North American fauna, they would have recognized moose, deer, raccoon, elk and one very large bear holding a copy of "The Road Kill Cookbook" in his long dead paw.  Battling for space among the carnage were several ancient video games, including Space Invaders, Scully noted with a twinge of nostalgia.  Coolers with an alarming amount of Old Milwaukee and Lucky Lager beer lined the walls.   
	 Again, Mara covering the retreat, Dana and Leia approached the beaten wooden counter of the small crowded shop.  Boxes of ammunition, tackle and hermetically sealed Twinkies, evidently long passed their 20 year half-life, were littered over every surface.  Fishing flies dangled from the slowly turning overhead fan.  More stuffed heads, including a wild boar, a snarling mountain lion, and a gorgeous four point buck were mounted on the walls.    
	 The identity of the proprietor left little doubt.  Entrenched behind a cash register, buried in last month's issue of Soldier of Fortune, he was not much taller than Dana and outweighed her by a full measure of her body weight.   A beret was angled on his head in a fair imitation of Gigi,  but for the strings dangling down over his ruddy face.   The T-shirt stretched across his stupendous  mid section  proclaimed, "I'm Bobby Ben Adams, American Patriot."   Dana nevertheless asked the obvious.  "We are looking  for Benjamin Adams."    
	 He looked over the magazine at Dana and Leia then spit the wad of chew lodged between his lip and gum into a plastic bucket on the floor.  He laughed, his shirt pulling rather further and even more improbably, "Well, little ladies, you've found 'em.  Did your men say you'd find 'em with me?"    
	 Leia spoke quickly, in Basic, and with an instant distaste, "He's not lying, but I don't like the tenor of his thoughts."    
	 Mara now joined them, lovingly testing the weight and heft of a long hunting knife.  "Can we try some of the blasters too?"    
	 Ben's eyes widened, and he leered pleasantly, "Not only pretty girls but foreigners too."  
	 Dana had had enough.  She pulled back her jacket and whipping out her badge, flashed it within a belly's distance of Ben's nose.  "Mr. Adams, it's Agent Scully to you, FBI.  These women are marksmen from the Czech Republic here on an exchange program to test a prototype weapon.  If you love your country, show us where we can blow some holes in things."  
	 For emphasis, and looking very serious, Leia now gently set her Drearian Defense Conglomerate Defender new model year on the countertop.  It had been a gift from Han before they left, and she was very fond of it.  Mara, for good measure, flung the knife with a flick of the wrist, where it embedded solidly in the wall, just past Adams' ear.  She smiled, then in an unblinking flash, dropped her hold out blaster into her right hand, bringing it to bear between the eyes of the blanching shopkeeper.  "If he's Ben Adams, can I kill him?"    
	 A nervous giggle escaped Adams.  "What did she say?"  
	 "She wanted to know if it was a crime in this country to kill rude men who imply that she doesn't know how to shoot," Dana explained.    
	 Another twitter escaped as he stared down the barrel of Mara's evil little blaster.  "Agent Scully, you and your guests may take lanes fifteen, sixteen and seventeen.  And I'll waive the fee," the now terrified, sweating and magnanimous Adams offered.  
	 "Nonsense."  He did flinch as Dana reached into her back pocket for her wallet.    
	 As they made their way out the back, on to the range, Dana saw it, in a case, by the door and stopped.  Mara was already outside, but Leia caught a scent of a sweet memory from Dana and returned to stand next to her.  "What is it?" she asked.    
	 "An M-1 Garand.  It was a very popular weapon in the navy for years.  My father taught me to shoot with one.  It's mostly used for drills and parades now."    
	 They both admired the gleaming, elegant construction.  Leia lightly caressed her own blaster, "My father," she, like Luke, choked a bit on the words, "My real father, the one who adopted and raised me, was a pacifist.  Our whole culture was very opposed to weaponry.  But he gave me my first blaster, and taught me the basics.  I have very fond memories of those times."  
	 Dana nodded wistfully, "Same for me."  
	 Leia made the suggestion without the need of the Force to prod her, "Can you try it out?  Will they let you do that?"    
	 Turning her head over her shoulder with a glance at the observing, smirking Adams, Dana shrugged.  "Maybe.  But I really shouldn't..."  
	 Mara stuck her head back in, almost whining with impatience, "Come on."   
	 The range was standard, Virginia fare, lined and shielded with large graceful trees, stunted shrubs and barbed wire to keep the unwary and unsuspecting away.  The short range, twenty-five/fifty meter lanes were closest, the long distance shooting range over a low rise.  The cool October air mingled with the odors of gunpowder, sweat and unwashed male.  As they walked along the dirty rocky path of the rear of the range to row fifteen, one by one, the guns fell silent, as each man, from row one to fourteen, stopped to stare at the three slight, tiny, very attractive women.    
	 At their designated row, Dana began setting up the  large bull's eye, explaining, "we set the targets up here, and push this button."  She did so, and they watched as the target floated down the divided lane on the runner, stopping at the twenty-five meter mark.  Although chafing to try Dana's gun, once she handed it over, Mara demanded an explanation of the mechanics of the semiautomatic S&W:  the magazine, hammer, the firing pin, discharging the bullet, powder gas recoil, spring follower which forces fresh cartridges up, and the sliding breech block which expels the spent cartridge.    
	 During the explanation, two men from lane fourteen had congregated behind them, not-so-helpfully offering suggestions to Mara and Dana.  The largest, a bearded man had a pack of Camels rolled up in the sleeve of his faded yellow t shirt, the significance of which was lost on Leia even after she translated it as, "Vote Republican, It's Less Taxing."  He snidely commented with a belch, "Hey Billy Ray, the lady's got taste in her S&W."    
	 His companion, shorter, squatter, and more pock-marked, snorted with laughter and a leer.  "America-- Love It or Leave It" adorned his shirt.  "Jim Bob, you know, it's her man who's got the taste."  
	 Dana, in the midst of her explanation, raised her voice, "Of course Mara, there is a significant debate regarding the merits of the nine versus ten millimeter.  I prefer the ten because, although you cannot carry as many bullets, the ten has more mass, so it's more likely to bring my targets down with only one shot.  I consider it the perfect balance of nine millimeter compactness and fifty caliber power."  
	 Leia said carefully, in English, "Better for human targets, yes?"  Both Mara and Dana responded, "Yes."  Jim Bob and Billy Ray took a long step back.  
	 Only after the exhaustive discussion of the semiautomatic pistol did Mara then feel comfortable to fire the weapon.  Jim Bob guffawed from row fourteen, "Miss, I'd be glad to show you how to shoot that pretty Smith & Wesson."  
	 Annoyed at this interruption, Mara spoke softly in Basic as she stared down the sight to the target, "Tell him I've killed better men than he."  
	 Dana obliged, "The little lady here asked me to tell you that as an assassin in the Czech secret police, she has shot men better than you."  
	 The burst of rude laughter was silenced as Mara carefully sighted and fired off eight quick shots.  The silence became muted whispers among the multiple named men as Mara recalled the target.  They all admired her handiwork, eight, neat clean holes, dead center.    
	 Now it was Leia's turn, and she, like Mara insisted upon the same explanation, then reloaded herself.  Overhearing Billy Ray whisper to Jim Bob, "I wonder if she worked for the Secret Police too," Dana responded, "No, this little lady was in the Czech Underground."  
	 Leia fired off her eight rounds, then commented blandly, "I didn't expect it to kick back so much."    
	 "Whatcha expect Leia?  It's a slug-thrower," Mara offered with a mild snort.    
	 "It's called recoil," Dana explained.  She added softly, "I suppose artificial gravity and energy beams make you forget Newton's rules."  
	 Dana pushed the button, and the target floated back, as Mara asked, "Newton?  What kind of creature is that?"    
	 "Person, not animal," Dana said.  She and Mara complimented Leia's shooting, which although not quite as clean as Mara's was nevertheless impressive.
	Billy Ray and Jim Bob now beat a hasty, embarrassed retreat.    
	 "Newton's second law of motion states something to the effect that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.  When you hurl a bullet away from you at 300 meters per second, the hand holding the gun has to absorb the reaction force."  
	 "Uh-huh.  Whatever you say," Leia shrugged with mystification.   
	 "I get it.  It's like our Twin Ion Engine fighters," Mara put in enthusiastically.  "They create thrust by throwing off millions of minute particles at near-light speeds."   
	 Now Dana looked at Leia, but her wordless, bemused expression indicated that Mara's explanation fared no better in the original Basic.  
	 "Uh-huh.  Whatever you say."  Dana responded.  
	 "So, Dana, do you want to try my blaster?"  Mara offered her hold out.    
	 They all glanced around, but with the rapid retreat of Jim Bob and Billy Ray, they had three lanes of unoccupied space on either side, and were seemingly unobserved.  Dana nodded and the tables reversed, with Mara explaining the basics of blaster power and operation.  Leia, with her Defender casually slung at her hip, kept a watch, and although she noted no one paying them any particular attention, could not shake the feeling of idle curiosity at their activities.    
	 They sent a new target down, to the fifty meter mark, with Mara's final admonishment, "As they said in the Alliance, point and shoot."  
	 Dana was hoping only that she would not embarrass herself with something that felt so alien in her hands.  Using a classic two handed stance to steady herself, heart pounding, she slowly squeezed the trigger.  Bolts flew out, striking and igniting the target.    
	 Dana was very pleased, recalling the smoldering paper as Mara gave her sound clap on the arm, "Good job Dana.  We really should find you something more solid to hit."    
	 Leia was certain; when the bolt contacted the target, she felt in the Force, an astounded oath.  They had just startled someone quite profoundly, someone who did not want to be seen.  She muttered to others, "We're being watched, I think we'd better go."  
	 Now Mara cast about the Force as well, then jerked her head towards a clump of trees at the perimeter, "I think he's in there."  Scully cursed the curiosity that had led them into this precarious position.  Without another word, the women pivoted hard and walked firmly to the parking lot.   
	 The watcher did not follow.  He set his macrobinoculars down gently, and pulling out a cell phone, entered a number from memory.  

*	*	*	*
Location Unknown   
	 Ben entered the house, responding to his father's summons after hearing the report of the assault upon the warehouse and the killing of the Urmari vornskrs.  Ascending the stairs to the second floor, preoccupied with what recompense the Urmari would demand, he was therefore quite surprised and unprepared when he felt a cold wind blow down the dim hall towards him.  He quailed, hesitating at the landing, thinking how easy it would be for the Urmari killer.  Sensing the brutal driving lust of the creature, even knowing it was part of the Urmari hunting deception, he ached to call on the Force to block the creature's dark yearnings.  As they passed each other on the landing, Ben could not suppress the shudder of the close proximity, and instinctively a protective warding shield sprung up around him in the Force.    
	 The monster spun around, hissing, even this simple Force application sufficient to enrage it.  It approached Ben, its shape suddenly growing, expanding to fill the cramped stairway.  Menacing, it backed Ben into the corner of the landing, trapping him between the rail, the drop to the floor below, and the wall.  "Control Jedi," it whispered, "You must learn to control your fear."  The shadow leered, raising its fingers to Ben's head in the Urmari gesture of feeding.  Ben wanted to scream, but even the sound died in his throat.  As abruptly, the Urmari dropped its stinking assault.  Laughing softly it shrank into its former shape, and oozed down the stairs.  But before leaving through the door, it hesitated, turning to gaze at a still paralyzed Ben.  It bore into him with craving black eyes and thoughts, then it was gone.   
	 Gasping, Ben ran through a calming regimen.  The exercise slowed his pulse and heart, but not his racing thoughts.  With fresh resolve he strode up the stairs, prepared for the confrontation he had been unable to face the night before.  Ben burst into the familiar room, knowing that his father knew it was he and had felt the entire ghastly encounter.  "Why didn't you just kill him?"   
	 The outburst was greeted with another exhalation, a blinking feigned astonishment.  "Who?"  
	 Ben was too angry and frightened to play the games, "You know who.  Mulder.  Why didn't you just kill him?"  He paced the room, stalking the dark corners, "Why did you let the Urmari get him?"  The scream that had choked on the stair now burst out angrily, "How could you do that to someone?"  
	 Ben saw what very few had ever seen before, his father flinched.  Sensing the weakness, he tentatively reached out through the Force to touch his father's consciousness.  He saw a tiny house on a lake, the ocean?  The smell of salt, grass and fresh wind replaced the omnipresent stench of smoke.   
	 "You've been protecting him all these years.  Why?"  
	 Two tiny children played on the shore. A girl, about five, and a boy, maybe nine.  They were building a sand castle.  The girl dropping globs of wet sand on the pile as the boy meticulously sculpted the structure.  
	 "Why?"  
	 The girl stood and twirled around, playing with the skirt on her gingham swimsuit.  The boy turned to watch her little dance and Ben saw his face.  His breath caught in his throat as he looked at what he thought was his own image as a boy.  But he didn't remember the beach house or his playmate...   
	 "Why didn't you have him killed?"  
	 The old man pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and placed one tenderly between his lips.  As he raised a shaking hand to light it, Ben strode forward, snatching the offense from his mouth, flinging it away.  "Goddamn it.  Answer me!"  
	 So like his brother, the old man mused, the children on the beach dissolved to another image.  A Sig Sauer shoved in his face, another cigarette slapped away.  "Why her and not me... ANSWER ME!"  The voice frantic, the eyes blazing, just like Ben's were now.  
	 "Brother?"  Ben whispered, recoiling from his father's mind, fleeing for safer ground.  A drowning victim struggling to keep his head above water.  Gasping with the awful realization, "Mulder's my brother?"  
	 "You should know better than to rummage around in my mind, Ben," the father to both men said calmly, taking another cigarette out and lighting it.  "You may not like what you find."  
	 Ben found his back now to the firm assurance of the wall, the remainder of his life collapsing around him.  "Why didn't you tell me?  About him?"  
	 "Because it was of no consequence."  
	 No consequence to whom?  Through clenched teeth, Ben managed, "You let them do that to your own son?"    
	 "It seemed the best course of action, given the alternative," he said with a tone usually reserved for discussing football scores or the weather.  
	 He wondered if his father had sold his son's soul with such ease.  With a nagging doubt, and flashing insight Ben recalled their conversation of only two days before, and the veiled Urmari threat on the stairs.  Through a haze of smoke, grayed, pitiless eyes stared at him.  His father's thoughts were now, as usual, closed; the brief ephemeral vulnerability had vanished like the ash.  But Ben suddenly knew, with dread, horrifying certainty, he **knew.**  Without another word, he whirled, and fled, out of the room, down the hall, into the darkening street of the bland suburban neighborhood.    
	 From the second story window, Cancer Man fingered the yellowed, lacy curtain, watching his son scamper into the street.  He smiled.   

*	*	*	*
Montgomery Mall Montgomery County, Maryland 3:50 PM   
	 The Benjamin Adams at the Circuit City Express in Montgomery Mall was about sixteen years old, pimply and his electronic skills guaranteed that he would be working for the National Security Agency someday, and was, by definition, therefore a threat to the known and unknown universe.  The Force did not enter into the youth's no doubt meteoric rise to galactic domination.  
	 Strolling out of the store, Han spied a display, his explorer's mind intrigued with the possibility of cross-cultural education and thinking that a peace offering may be necessary.  "What's that Mulder?" Han asked, discerning that the FBI agent was similarly, an expert in this subject.    
	 Mulder looked in the direction Han indicated, a smirk then breaking across his face, "Victoria's Secret.  It's a women's lingerie store."    
	 Han stopped at the store's entrance, studying the photograph at the doorway of a very attractive brunette, wearing what he thought was an anti-gravity device like the ones he had observed at Hooter's and on the blonde in the bar last night.  "What's that?" Han asked, pointing, and in no way sharing Luke's increasing horror as he divined what was going to happen next.  
	 "It's called a Wonderbra," Mulder instructed, quite the connoisseur.    
	 "And what does the sign say?"  
	 "That they're on sale, buy one get one free."    
	 "Really?"  Han was now very interested and Mulder very obliging, also recognizing the necessity of a bribe in the interests of familial harmony.  "Let's check it out, maybe you can find one for Leia."    
	 Han nodded enthusiastically, then noticed Luke hanging back, head down, reddening to the ears.  "Come on, kid.  There's no Rancor or Dark Jedi in there."    
	 "No," Luke muttered, following.  "It's much worse."    
	 A lovely dark haired woman approached them immediately.  "Can I help you gentlemen?"  
	 Mulder stepped in. "Yes," he made of point of reading her name tag, "Jeannie.  My friend here is from the Czech Republic and is interested in acquiring a Wonderbra for his delightful wife."  
	 "Of course.  Sir, do you know what size your wife wears?"  
	 "VBG" Han responded promptly.  To quizzical stares, he explained to Mulder in Basic, "That's her size in our Galaxy, but I have no idea what the conversion is here."  
	 Mulder explained the problem to Jeannie who was quite understanding.  "Eastern European sizes can be very difficult.  Can you describe your wife then?"    
	 Han did so, in Basic, with Mulder translating, as they made their way to the racks of frilly, colorful bras that blanketed the entire back wall of the store.  At one point Han held his hands out, trying to describe these key features for that all important fit.  Unable to establish more than the basic parameters, Jeannie suggested that they look at the other women in the store, which Han and Mulder were glad to do, all in the interests of proper sizing, of course.  At Mulder's suggestion, Jeannie also helpfully offered the visually detailed catalog.  Mulder lamented they had not thought of this sooner, since he had a catalog at home and Han could have consulted with Leia.  
	 Luke was playing the hang dog, eyes to the floor.  So he never saw it, until it was all over.  As two young, giggling women pushed past him on their way to some selection of something, their heavy shopping bags knocked against him, igniting a chain reaction.  Bags hit Luke, who tripped, and bumped into a formidable rack of tap pants, slips, negligees and other frilly items.  The rack hit the underwear table, and bikinis, thongs, french cut briefs, matching tops, garters, and strapless items, in florals and solids, cotton, silk and rayon all crashed to the floor.    
	 Han and Mulder spun around from their debate of black versus red to behold the commotion and the New Republic's last Jedi, ace fighter pilot, and war hero, standing amid a pile of women's undergarments, looking as if he wished nothing more than for the whole store to collapse in on him and swallow him whole.  Bending down to right the table and rack, Luke's clumsy efforts succeeded only in causing more things to slip and slide.  He wrestled to right the upturned rack, it now caught.  Giving the rack a firm yank, his light saber, always dangling at his belt, flew off, skittering across the store's polished floors.  Luke gasped in horror, too frozen to call upon the Force, and saw the blade roll away, into an alcove and under a dressing room door.    
	 "Holy Sith," he muttered, with a frantic, terrified look at Han and Mulder.    
	 Han burst into laughter, calling from across the store, mercifully in Basic, "Hey, kid, not the best way to get a girl."    
	 A girl did emerge from the dressing room, clad only in... Luke could not look.  "Excuse me, did one of you lose this?"  She was carrying the light saber, wearing a pleasant smile and not much else.  Luke stammered, blushed a color deeper than the red she was wearing, took the light saber from her, mumbling thanks in every language he knew, and fled to a corner vowing revenge for this indignity.     

*	*	*	*
	Luke led the retreat out of Victoria's Secret, Mulder and Han on his heels, noses buried in the catalogue they had lifted. "I'm an Emma bra man personally," Mulder was saying as he pointed out a particularly nice floral number to Han, who nodded his approval.  So occupied, Han and Mulder were completely unprepared for Luke's full stop; they plowed into the back of him like some scene out of a Three Stooges flick.  
	 "Hey, kid, what the hell...," Han started, the question died on his lips when he spotted the object of their search, Ben Adams, leaning complacently, arms crossed, against the railing outside the shop.  
	 Adams straightened abruptly, swallowing hard, betraying for all the world, paralytic nervousness.  His eyes never left Mulder, as if seeing him for the first time.  Expecting hostility and fear, Luke was caught off guard by other strong emotions surging from the man, grief, guilt...and... joy? That didn't fit...  
	 Mulder was quicker than any of them, lunging at Ben, grabbing him by the front of his leather jacket and bending him backwards until he was hanging precariously over the railing, forty feet above the food court below. "Where is he?" Mulder gritted.  
	 Han and Luke joined Mulder, leaning over Adams, an added menacing presence. "You better start talking, Adams. I don't think Mulder here would hesitate to let you drop. And there's not much chance that Luke or I would do anything to stop him," Han assured their captive.  
	 Mulder loosened his grip slightly, letting Adams drop lower. A crowd was gathering, voices were raised, the pounding feet of mall security could be heard coming to the rescue.  Adams grimaced, "Somehow, Mulder, I doubt you'd want to have your brother's blood on your hands."  
	 "What the hell are you talking about?" Mulder hissed, his fingers relaxing, Adams slipping further over the railing.  
	 "I'm your brother, Mulder."  
	 For Mulder the world came to a shattering, horrible stop, and only started moving again with the arrival of the cavalry.  "Pull him up and step away."  The voice of a security guard ordered, backed up by the metallic click of a cocking gun.  
	 Somehow the message penetrated to the eye of the hurricane raging in Mulder's mind.  He yanked Adams up and then, without releasing the grip of his right hand, reached into his coat pocket for his badge. "FBI. I'm taking this man into custody." Dragging him by the coat, Mulder hauled his brother out of the mall.  
	 Luke and Han hurried after them, Han leaning over to whisper, "It's true, isn't it?"  
	 Luke nodded.  The connection, when pointed out, was obvious. It had been the same when he learned of his relation to Leia. It was like they had always known on some deeper level.  Long gone, a galaxy away, and Palpatine had beautifully scripted yet another family tragedy.  
	 Echoing the thought, Han muttered, "I really thought once he was dead, no one else would have to go through this again."  
	 Outside the doors, Mulder slammed Adams against the wall. "You tell me where your father is."  He pulled his gun, forcing it under Adam's chin.  "Or I blow your head off, brother." Mulder twisted the last word into a sneer of contempt and sarcasm.   
	 "He's your father, too," Adams whispered.  
	 Mulder pushed the gun harder into Adam's throat, feeling it give under the pressure of the barrel.  Dimly, he felt a hand at his elbow, heard a soft, commanding voice.  "He's telling the truth."  
	 Staring into the frightened pleading brown eyes of a stranger, Mulder thought he saw a reflection.  He wavered, then again shoved the gun higher, driving Adams' rough shaven neck into the wall.  They were, he realized, the same height.  Mulder released the safety.  Again that entreating voice, "Mulder, he is your brother."  
	 Pulling the trigger would silence those voices, quiet the storm, bring them all back to they way they had been before. Again that damn voice, stronger fingers at his elbow.  Crushing his gun to Adams' windpipe, Mulder turned his head to stare at the damn Jedi who wouldn't let him do what demons and justice demanded.  He rasped, "How do you know?"  
	 With a flicker to Adams, Luke whispered, "Sibling ties are very strong in the Force.  I just know.  So does he.  If you had the Force back, you would know it too."  
	 Adams choked out, "Even without it, you know it's the truth."  
	 Mulder slumped against the wall next to Adams, his gun hand falling away.  So there was the truth.  He had finally found it. Scully was right, it was his white whale.  The thing that would destroy him.  Only the cool brick against his forehead connected him to the here and now, a tenuous tether, as his mind raced to the past filling in the answers to a million questions.  Why Samantha and not him.  Why Scully, while he remained safe.  Why the man he thought was his father had held him in such contempt  despite all his efforts to please him.  Why he managed to survive while others, less a threat to the Cancer Man and his Consortium, were eliminated. Oh God. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod.  Cancer Man his father.  It would be hilarious if it wasn't so damn pathetic.  He'd sell his soul to go back to being blissfully ignorant.  He laughed bitterly.  Of course, his "father" had already taken care of that for him, hadn't he.  Selling his own son's soul to the Urmari.  
	 "That's why I'm here," Adams said in response to his brother's thoughts.  
	 Mulder's head snapped up, the gun returning to Adams' throat. "Stay the hell outta my head."  
	 "Mulder, give me the gun," Han said, reaching out and gently prying the FBI agent's fingers from the weapon and pocketing it.  He looked around, casing the area.  Mall security was watching this little melodrama, as were about 30 spectators. Time to make themselves scarce. "I think we should take this charming family reunion somewhere else."

END--Chapter 6