Interstitials: Mara

During the Battle of Fondor, in the capital of the Galaxy...

Their apartment had seen better days. Across one wall, leading into the kitchenette, Mara had pinned up several dozen printed-out flimsies, portraits each and every one, representing officials ranging from Senator Shesh's office to nameless NRI agents. On their kitchen table, she had spreads of datapads and holocubes along with a few holocorders. Comparing the absolutely embarrassing wealth of data she had at her fingertips to her time with Karrde, it was a little sobering to realize the last time she had this sort of access was when she was the Emperor's Hand. The positives of being a white hat, she supposed.

Senator Shesh was furious at the implication that her office might be the one harboring the leak and had pulled out all the stops for Mara's investigation. She still did not trust the woman - despite her public persona, Mara easily recognized a mercenary mentality, and Shesh had it in spades - but her willingness to throw open her records, provide access to her entire staff and even set aside time for one-on-one interviews, despite her incredibly busy schedule did give the Kuati some credit.

In some ways, Mara felt that Shesh was being a little bit too accommodating. Guilty conscience, maybe? Or figuring that full cooperation would deflect suspicion?

She wasn't discounting the possibility. After all, NRI had provern airtight.

Liaising with Kalenda and 'Face' Loran let her crunch through the handful of agents that had been aware of the Obroa-skai mission in short order. A combination of careful touch with the Force, a lifetime of cold-reading, along with the paranoid amount of tracking NRI kept on their agents let Mara eliminate that loose end all on her own. She'd considered bringing in Jacen, Jaina or both for those debriefs, but an issue was clearance. A few of the topics that came up were well beyond the twins' clearance, even Jaina with her Rogue Squadron position.

With NRI checked off and the only other parties aware of the Obroa-skai mission being the Exiles and the Praxeum, all eyes turned to Shesh's office.

It was where both of the twins were, today. Shesh had invited the both of them to stake out a neighboring office, out of sight and unknown to her staff, so that they could passively observe throughout the day. Perhaps someone would slip, emotionally or otherwise, and the two Jedi Knights would be able to pick up a hint. Mara wasn't expecting anything: so far all she had been able to read of Shesh's staff was the usual guarded paranoia expected of career political wonks. Nothing that smelt of bitter treason or nervous uncertainty.

Shesh's Chief of Staff, Victor Pomt, was their point-man. Long trusted by the Senator and utterly loyal to the Shesh family, Pomt was prompt in providing documents and curriculum vitae of various staffers and political analysts. He felt as slimy as Shesh did, to Mara, but she could sense his honest concern for the Senator. Like his employer, Pomt's mind was a lockbox, proving once again that relying on the Force like a crutch could end up at dead ends. A trained, focused mind could hide a great deal, just as Mara herself was trained to do in her youth.

She remembered intimating as much to Anakin months ago now, during their stint on Dantooine. Her nephew was strong, so strong in the Force, but he had a bad habit of leaning too much on his innate talents and instinctual command of the Force. She couldn't fault him, not really, because he was a prodigy, but over reliance on any one tool in your kit was a disaster waiting to happen.

She reached for her cup of caf, unthinkingly taking a swig and scowling. Cold, very cold. She eyed the half-full mug, then glanced at the chrono. Where had the afternoon gone? The twins would be back shortly, ready to discuss any discoveries - or lack thereof. At this point, the possibility of actual Yuuzhan Vong infiltrators was starting to rank higher and higher on Mara's radar. Given that with their utter invisibility to the Force, one could very easily be overlooked in the masses of staffers and workers in the Capitol.

Idly, she wondered just how much old Palpatine was spinning in his grave. The musing always came to her when she spent time in the old Palace. A true monument to vanity, that was, now filled with innumerable non-humans and the center of the galactic republic, restored. There was quite a delicious irony to walking the halls as she did now, as a Jedi, as a wife, as an aunt and - unconsciously, she placed her hand over her pelvis - soon enough a mother.

This revelation had leant new spice to working with her niece and nephew. She loved them, all three of them, dearly, even if she could admit she sometimes had a hard time quite communicating it. Mara Jade Skywalker was many things, but an open-heart wasn't one of them. She grew better at it every year, but it was an ongoing project. Now, though, whenever she watched Jacen and Jaina chat back and forth, leavened every now and then by good natured bickering, she imagined subtly different faces on the two. Faces that took after their uncle more. Hair that ran auburn, perhaps.

One day, it would be her children that chattered about the Force.

If young, bitter, laser-focused Mara Jade could see her now, relaxing in her apartment, the one she shared with her husband, smiling like a fool at the tiny, tiny life growing inside her…

She'd likely call Mara a sentimental, weak, naive idiot who had lost her edge. Common sense said the right response would be to hug her younger self, but realism said that the woman she'd been would've been better served by a slap to the face and a good shake. Mara was a direct woman, emotionally and otherwise. She didn't do subtlety and she didn't do simplicity.

After all, one of the first ways she figured out how to say "I care about you" to her eventual husband was to murder his identical clone right in front of him.

She supposed it spoke a great deal about herself that she had stared that clone in the face and killed him dead, lightsaber right through his chest, and never once looked back. A different person might have been unsettled by coldly killing the man that wore the face of who would become her friend, lover and husband. Perhaps have nightmares about it.

She couldn't really see why. It wasn't Luke. It was a broken clone. At best, it was mercy. At worst, just something that had to be done. An older, vicious part of her that had greatly atrophied still took an inordinate amount of pleasure at her final thumbing of the nose to the old bastard Palpatine in that moment too.

So her younger self could piss and moan and tear her hair out over how far Mara had 'fallen' from the quietly violent little monster of a Hand she had been, but Mara Jade Skywalker wouldn't even feel pity. Pity meant that her younger self could've been any other way. She'd lost the game before she realized she was playing. It was what it was.

And it was the past. The far past, compared to the dazzling now, which held Luke and Han and Leia, her niece and nephews and - she smiled, a disgusting sort of gentle expression that took a long time to feel comfortable on her face. And the little one to come.

In the corner of her mind, the one that belonged to Luke, she felt a swell of warmth and fathomless love. Of course he would sense her musings. She pushed back a wry sort of exasperation, but one unable to cover up her own emotion. You're busy, Skywalker. She felt his amusement. I'm just hormonal.

Halfway across the galaxy - though soon to be on his way here - and he could read her like an open book. She pitied every being that would never be able to understand this kind of soul-deep connection.

The apartment's buzzer alarm pulled her from her thoughts, shortly before the door opened, Jacen and Jaina's voices breaking the quiet.

"In here," Mara called.

The twins strolled in, Jaina still limping slightly with the bulky brace wrapped around her thigh. Her drastic haircut still caught Mara off guard - cut to chin length, but with a large part of the left side shaven right to her scalp. It had started off with just a smaller patch to allow for the oncocidal implant, but Jaina one afternoon had wandered off and gotten a haircut to even things out and make it appear purposeful, rather than a side-effect of surgery.

Mara suspected another part of it was that it made Jaina look even less like Leia.

She also tended to wear outfits that screamed 'Starfighter corps'. Like today's: a sleeveless grey tunic with a Y backed green tank over it and loose fatigue pants. Her ubiquitous Rogue Squadron patch was sewn over the right breast. If she was old enough, that patch would ensure she'd never pay for a drink for the rest of her life.

"How was it?"

Jaina slumped into an unoccupied chair, groaning. Jacen took one to the left of his sister, sliding in and leaning forward, elbows on the table.

"Total waste of time," Jaina groused. "Nothing. Nothing."

Jacen grimaced.

"A lot of people are anxious, but that's probably just because of our investigation. Senator Shesh was in a really good mood, like she has been in for a couple days."

"-it's the Exiles," Jaina butt in. "It's all they talk about in that office, I swear it's like they don't realize there's a whole rest of the galaxy fighting and dying."

Her niece was getting more and more restless by the day. Mara knew she kept a nearly religious fixation on any and all news from the fronts, especially as regards Rogue Squadron and Kre'fey's command. Her friends and colleagues were out there and Mara knew well the kind of helpless anger that could fester when there was nothing you could do about it.

She'd had to deal with that helplessness for months as her body betrayed her.

"Victor recommended we look into secondary contacts," Jacen added. "He said that there could be leaks that are accidental. Like talking too much to a friend or family member, or even just venting at the local tapcaf."

Mara had considered it. With the dead ends at NRI and Shesh's office proving annoyingly resilient, it meant the investigation had to start to expand outward and along new avenues. Now, it wasn't likely that they'd stumble across droid-driven tree surveillance networks, of course, but the Vong were proving they could do subterfuge as well as blatant violence.

She thought of just how close Luke had come with the Elan assassin and once again swore to never underestimate the vong.

"Pomt might have the right idea. One person says something offhand, then it gets repeated, and you might not even need a mole in the office itself." She glanced back at her pinboard, at the various faces that stared back at her. The only problem with sources being a few steps removed like that was a degradation in the quality of the information passed along, plus there was no way to probe or pry for what was really desired. It would be more of a passive gathering system, not an active infiltration.

On the one hand, if it really was the case, it boded well for New Republic operation security.

On the other hand, the Force was not infallible. They couldn't just trace the emotions and surface impressions of some staffers during a week of interviews and then pronounce their investigation over. If it was that easy, Palpatine would never have been able to hide right under the noses of the entire old Order for decades.

She still suspected there were actual turncoats in Shesh's office, but buried under Kuati training as well an awareness that Jedi did exist and were liaising with the Senator. It was much easier to deflect an attack you knew was coming, versus a knife in the dark. Sadly, while NRI had its own rules it could bend or break with impunity, they walked a straighter line when dealing with a Senator's office. Especially a Senator as upcoming, influential and charismatic as Viqi Shesh.

The last thing the Jedi needed right now, with the ways the winds were blowing, was accusations of trying to subvert Senators or the Senate itself.

Still, Pomt's advice jived with her own thoughts. Regardless of a mole in the office, there was still likely to be an actual cell set up. From her own experience, while a single agent meant there was incredible operational security - it was impossible to flip on the rest of a cell if there was no rest of a cell - it also introduced a great deal more failure points by forcing that one agent to accomplish everything. One person could only juggle so much and espionage was a busy job.

"Let's work with that, then," Mara announced.

"I'm getting something to eat," Jaina declared. "But I'm listening."

Mara gestured toward the 'fridge.

"There's takeout left over and some nutrient bars."

"Mm," Jaina agreed.

Jacen cleared his throat.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll get you something too."

Mara hoped her children - children? Multiple? Mara, one at a time - would have even a tenth of the twins' easy friendship. Before she could get lost in imaginings again, she refocused, stretching. Her spine creaked, lumbar popping. Why had she spent most of the day at the kitchenette's table and not the far more comfortable sofa? Clearly, a plot by the vong to throw her off.

Jaina rummaged through the 'fridge's offerings, muttering to herself, but Jacen appeared thoughtful.

"We've talked about there being vong agents here."

Mara nodded.

"With Elan and the saboteur on Belkadan, we can't discount it."

"Their masquers are good - really good - but NRI is pretty sure their new scanners can figure them out."

Several had been installed at the Palace, setting up passive scans for all visitors and workers. So far, no alerts, but the scanners weren't exactly subtle or small. Whatever the vong put into those masquers, they did a remarkable job at appearing like plain old normal flesh. It was definitely possible that spies had seen the scanners installed or had been alerted to them by moles and adjusted accordingly.

"Let's assume the vong have a controller for their agents. Peace Brigade aren't exactly big thinkers."

On the other side of the kitchenette, Jaina snorted.

"How do we find a masquer'd vong on Coruscant?"

Jacen frowned, thinking hard. Mara sat back, letting the teenaged Knight consider it. After all, half the reason she'd requested both of them to assist her was to give them tips and training for the future. It wouldn't accomplish much if she held their hands the whole time.

"If it's a vong," Jacen said, slowly. "They might go somewhere that's more familiar. An apartment complex near one of the parks. Maybe work at a place that's got more greenery and life to it."

She could see the rationale, but it was a little surface level.

"That could cut down on places," she agreed. "Coruscant and especially the Senate district isn't exactly overflowing with green spaces."

"I think there was a tapcaf around here that's basically a jungle," Jaina added, returning with reheated containers, dropping one in front of Jacen before reclaiming her seat. "One of the pilots in another squadron mentioned it. Said it was like eating on Kashyyyk."

"A vong would definitely feel more at home there," Jacen declared.

"All true." Mara nodded. Again, it wasn't a bad thought, but it assumed a lot about the vong themselves. The infiltrator on Belkadan, Yomin Carr, had disguised himself a technician, meaning he worked with 'abominable technology' day-in and day-out. "One problem. A tourist destination like that one would more than likely be more selective about the staff they hire. I would bet they don't have very high turnover."

Jacen's face fell a little, but he rallied quickly. Mara was proud. Being wrong isn't a bad thing, as long as you learned from it.

"Same thing with a more upscale apartment like that. It's not impossible, mind you. Really, Jacen, it's not out of possibility. If there's Peace Brigade sympathizers in the right position, I'm sure they could polish some repulsors and get their vong handler into a nice place." Mara rose, taking her cold and stale caf with her and tossing it in the sink, rummaging around for a new package of instant.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

"On the flipside, everyone knows the vong hate technology. Sticking one in a place with a view of trees is a little on the nose."

"So where should we look instead?" Jaina cut in, around a mouthful. Jacen glared at her.

"Don't be gross," he chided. Jaina shrugged.

"The first places to look would be housing that caters to refugees or does under-the-table renting. If I wanted to infiltrate Coruscant right now, I'd do it through the constant trickle of refugees without IDs. No one is going to look twice at some guy with a handful of hard credits and no papers, not with half the Rim fleeing Coreward."

Karrde often used those sorts of circumstances to his advantage. It was the benefit of being hooked into the criminal underworld, even if the helplessly idealistic man - she'd never say it to his face - kept himself at arm's length from the truly reprehensible. No matter where in the galaxy, there were those desperate enough to try anything and those greedy enough to enable it. Karrde could seed any number of his operatives just by slipping them in through the cracks. It was never glamorous, but it was damned effective.

In her stint as the Hand, while she had near-unlimited resources, she too needed to avoid prying eyes at times, and that could mean tramp freighters and creds slipped from palm to palm.

Jacen snapped his fingers.

"And there's got to be work for all the refugees coming in too. All paid under the table, right?"

Mara beamed.

"Exactly. When there's tragedy, there are the unscrupulous who capitalize on it."

Jacen drummed his fingers on the kitchen table, glancing to Jaina.

"So…where would we start to look?"

"They would want to minimize necessary travel and keep cells close together. Coruscant, as you two know very well, can be a totally overwhelming maze, especially for those that aren't native."

Jaina set aside her fork, eyes lighting up.

"And since this is the Senate district, there's going to be less illegal sh- stuff going on and the constabulary is going to crack down harder."

Jacen snapped his fingers, following his twin's direction.

"And then if we can cross reference where Senator Shesh's staffers live against places that rent or hire without question…"

Mara's grin promised violence.

"We can narrow down our options. Tomorrow, you two. I'll pull a request for known or suspected grey-market businesses - yes, Jacen, police do tend to keep track, even if they don't or aren't able to shut them down - and get Pomt to send over addresses for Shesh's office."

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Sometimes, it was almost tangible that the Force was with them. Mara had been expecting stakeouts, long nights and probably liaising with the constabulary to cover all bases, but after Pomt delivered addresses for all of Shesh's staff and she dug into some of Karrde's contacts, she and the twins broke down about a hundred potential shady businesses to a half dozen priority targets. Face had a few the NRI had been keeping eyes on, and even Pomt mentioned rumors he'd heard through the grapevine. They would split up, to cover more ground and because Mara had stressed that under absolutely no circumstances - yes, Jacen, if an innocent's life was in danger, that could be an exception - were Jacen or Jaina to try to take down a vong if they sensed them.

If they managed to nail down a masquered infiltrator, it wasn't just Shesh who was interested in them but the NRI, the Senate District Constabulary, the Order…really, it was easier to list those who weren't interested in getting their hands on a vong.

Mara took the most outlying business, which was a chop-shop that specialized in boosted speeders and swoops from the lower levels, stripped to parts and then sold through 'legit' fronts in the upper city. She wondered if a vong might actually enjoy the job, getting to rip apart the 'evil machines', even if they didn't get to destroy them outright. This was a place that Karrde had information on and they fit all of Mara's parameters. Paid in hard credits, didn't ask for background checks, didn't require any identification. Jacen took a catering place nearer to the Palace, which on the outside looked quite professional but behind the scenes paid overworked refugees under the table to save on costs.

Jaina was at the third, which was a storage depot that notoriously hired criminals for muscle as guards. They each had tiny, in-ear commlinks, synched up to each other, and the plan was simple observation at a distance. Visuals didn't matter - it was the Force that would reveal everything they needed. The second a hollow void in the shape of a person showed up, the twins had strict instructions to call Mara immediately and if Mara didn't answer, wait sixty seconds before contacting NRI.

Face was on deck, eager and driven to gain some measure of retribution after poor Zevulon died on Obroa-skai. He'd been blaming himself for the leak, especially since it had cost the life of a teammate, a Jedi and one of the Exiles' Astartes.

Mara posted herself halfway up a multi-story office tower, sequestered in an empty office space that gave a perfect view over the plaza and alley that the chop-shop sat on. Deep enough down, the sky was a slice of blue far above, hemmed in by towering buildings and the stacked crust of Coruscant's cityscape. The plaza had small drifts of trash gathered in corners and the lumes were dirty.

Ironically, there was greenery here, at least in the form of lank and spiraling vines that were a dark green-black, clinging along facades and sucking up what sunlight made it down a kilometer.

The morning passed slowly, Mara reaching out to brush the Force over every single being that passed by. She settled into a sort of unconscious rhythm, like keeping an ear on an open commlink until a particular word leapt out. The beings down here moved around with a general aura of worry and fright, proving even the capital world wasn't immune to the growing unease around the invader's constant successes.

A few had particularly unpleasant presences in the Force, but she'd have to let sleeping dewbacks lie.

Mara chewed through a ration bar, expecting to burn the afternoon and evening, when her comlink popped and Jacen's voice, a little uncertain filled her ear.

"Aunt Mara? I think I've got him."

"What!?" Jaina exclaimed.

"I'm looking at one of the workers on break. He's standing there, but I don't feel him."

She wasn't sure if that spoke extremely highly to their planning and deduction, or very poorly of the vong's operational security. Of course, just because Jacen might have found a masquered vong didn't mean that they had a connection to the leak in Shesh's office. It could very well just be a coincidence - if Mara was in the invader's shoes, she would seed as many agents into the enemy's capital as she was able to, just because she could.

"Sit tight, Jacen. Keep track of him. Are there other exits?"

"Three others," Jacen confirmed. "How should I watch them?"

"He doesn't know you saw him. It would be pretty bad cover if he skipped off work, right?"

"Exactly right," Mara confirmed, pleased that Jaina had realized it. "But I'm still going to call in Face. There might only be one vong there, but we might be about to kick over a viper-wasp nest."

She packed up her gear - just a pair of macrobinoculars and a foldable stool and made for the turbolifts.

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Face called in rapid response, holding at a distance in airspeeders. Mara joined Jacen, Jaina shortly after, where he was at a local cafe that offered an easy view of the catering office. They acted like who they were - an aunt and her niece and nephew, enjoying a restful afternoon.

"We've got all exits covered and based on Jacen's description, we'll know when he leaves."

Face was tapped into their comlinks now, liaising for them with the local law enforcement. They didn't know the particulars of exactly who they were here to help interdict, being told only that it was a 'Vong sympathizer' and that NRI had a warrant for their detainment. Jacen argued against keeping the police in the dark, which Mara could sympathize with, given how deadly vong warriors could be, but Face was adamant. This was a command from over his head - NRI didn't want the fact that there might be Yuuzhan Vong out and about on Coruscant to be common knowledge.

For Mara, she was half expecting the vong to…remove himself from the equation. Their kind's willingness to martyrdom was as famous as their scars and tattoos and, from a practical sort of angle, having agents not just willing but fervently happy to end their own lives was a frightening kind of security.

They'd do their best to prevent it. Face handed off Stokhli stun sticks, a new design that combined the webbing Stokhli was known for with ionic shock that was advertised to drop any being in the galaxy. Given the hardiness of the Yuuzhan Vong, Mara figured three stun-sticks might just be enough to do the job.

Luckily, the cafe catered to the sort of clientele that spent hours at a time, so the trio of them wouldn't draw unwarranted attention. A Bothan was there just as long as they were, working diligently away at a datapad while an Elom and a Bith kept up an animated conversation at a corner table. Without much else to do besides wait, Mara got Jaina talking about Rogue Squadron, the girl lighting up with excitement to relate endless anecdotes of the sort of goofy camaraderie that Mara expected of teens and twenty-somethings at the very apex of their skill and in the middle of a war. Pranks played with misplaced bunks and footprints on the ceiling of the ready-room; all ways to burn off idle energy and build up that belief in their own invincibility.

Poor Jaina - Mara knew her EVA had to have shaken the teenager, and shaken her hard, but through the Force, Mara felt only a longing and frustration to get back to it all.

Jacen ended up joining in, bringing up Centerpoint. Mostly about how disappointed he was to see the heightened Corellian tensions and the anti-Jedi sentiment spreading and how it was frustrating that the system was turning on Marcha. He praised Anakin's refusal to fire the station's star-buster in low tones, condemning Thracken for how much he tried to pressure his brother.

Mara had known, of course, from Luke, but she was still so proud to hear how Anakin had acted. Luke sounded almost relieved when he spoke about it with Mara and she could understand. Anakin had a chance in that moment to lash out and embrace all his anger and hatred of the Yuuzhan Vong for what they did to Chewie and he set it aside. She'd felt his buried fury on Dantooine, in those dizzying, foggy hours as he fought his one-man war against the invaders. She'd sensed how locked up tight and buried he kept that pain, refusing to let it sway his strikes. He kept every kill clean and focused, like a soldier, not a reaver.

She suspected Jacen didn't understand what Anakin had done, not fully. Mara knew the exact parameters of the Corellian gambit. The New Republic hadn't given clearance for Centerpoint to be used offensively. Morality of the act aside, firing Centerpoint would have been absolutely catastrophic for the political situation of the Core. Thracken's fall from grace, which was certainly an exaggeration, given he hadn't yet managed to reach grace again, had seriously neutered some of the most vocal Corellian secessionists. Rumor painted him as at fault for the shutdown of Centerpoint, something the New Republic was comfortable letting run.

A weaponized, active Centerpoint would have given Corellia and a resurgent Triad a gun held to the head of the galaxy in a way far worse than during the original Crisis.

Not to mention, a single shot wouldn't have been the end. Mara knew the Admiralty and she could easily see powerful voices like Bel Iblis calling for more and more uses, burning out the Yuuzhan Vong from the galaxy like fumigating a house.

And if Anakin was right - it would have been her nephew's hand on the trigger. His anger, his hatred, fed by each genocidal blow.

Mara could admit she hated the Yuuzhan Vong. For Chewie, for the galaxy, for her suspicions about her own illness. Wholesale extinction couldn't be the answer, if only because whatever was left of the soul of the galaxy and those who lived after would be something she would tremble to witness.

They chatted on and off, Mara enjoying the chance to properly catch up with her family. Just as evening was shifting toward night, Face alerted them that the target was sighted exiting with the rest of his shift. Mara slapped down credits and they left the cafe at a swift, but careful pace. She reached out, feeling the presence of the exhausted and bitter temp workers filing away toward a repulsor train station. A smile spread across her face at a rather distinct gap in the crowd. Even though she couldn't quite see them yet, she could feel all the beings clustered up and right there - right there all of them gave just enough space for another being, yet oddly didn't fill in the gap in the crowd.

Jaina had her hand on her stun-stick and Jacen breathed in cycle.

For Mara, she just delighted in doing what she had done best for decades. Being a Jedi was satisfying in ways she'd not dreamt of - tutoring and teaching Jaina as well as offering guidance to the other trainees was fulfilling. But at heart, she'd always been an infiltrator, a spy, an operative. Could take the Hand out of the woman, but couldn't…she shook her head, not sure where she was going with that.

In the end, when the three of them cut through the crowd at the repulsor train station, arrowing toward the hollow space that looked like a man, it all ended up far too easy.

The disguised vong glanced up, reading something clearly on their faces as his eyes hardened and mouth twisted into a snarl -

But three sprays of shimmering blue web lashed out, binding and jolting the spy. He toppled, eyes rolled back and encased in several inches of fast-hardening and sticky epoxy.

"Face," Mara called, tapping her comlink.

"Honestly, I'm a feeling a little blue-balled," Face sighed.

"Face," Mara repeated, this time chiding. "There are children on the line."

"Hey!" Jaina yelped.

"We've got him down. Bring in a speeder, it's time to see what he knows."

"Bring it in now."

Jacen was already handling the crowd, voice raised enough to project without shouting. Mara could feel waves of calm roll from her nephew, taking the edge of the sudden surprise of all the nearby waiting passengers.

"Don't worry! My name is Jacen Solo, I'm a Jedi Knight. We're here with the local police, just arresting a wanted man. You're all completely safe!"

Mutters and exclamations rippled around them, but Jacen caught and punctured the potential for panic before it could even start to form. Mara was glad it hadn't come to lightsabers and blasters. She could easily imagine a panicked stampede if they had to light blades here in a crowd like this. Still, curious eyes watched, mostly for the novelty of a Jedi - or presumably, multiple Jedi. An airspeeder swooped down, uniformed officers hopping out and helping maneuver the surprisingly heavy vong into the back. A second speeder joined them, gull-wing door popping and Face leaning out.

"Come on," he called. "I'll give you a lift."

Mara waved the twins on. "I'll ride with our catch. Just in case."

They took off into the night. Mara shifted next to the webbed up and comatose vong, keeping a hand on her holdout blaster, set to stun. A successful stakeout, a quick and clean grab and hopefully by the time they all went home, they'd have a solid lead to latch onto.