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Jedi X Family (The Corsair and Xana)

Kaydia lay there in dark for a moment longer, willing herself back to sleep. Should be easier now, since she had the bed to herself. Right? But it seemed big, and cold with her alone, and wrapping herself in the blanket didn't seem to help much.

In the living room, Quentin and Mara were talking. They weren't being loud, by any means, but with her sensitive hearing she could just make out their conversation. No, she wasn't going to be able to get back to sleep this morning. Might as well get up

"Mind if I join you?" Kaydia asked, pulling her hair into a loose bun. She recognized the stretches they were doing. One of the few things she retained from her upbringing, it would fit her new role well. While the Jedi used it as mediation, to achieve balance between the spiritual, the mental, and the physical, it had become popular with non-sensitives as a low impact exercise that promoted flexibility and breathing.

Quentin led Mara through a basic cycle of stretches, and she followed along very well. Clearly they had practiced together many times. Kaydia followed along as well, letting her muscles warm up and get limber. Once they completed their flow, and began to move on to other exercises, Kaydia remained, shifting into more complicated poses.

From a downward facing position, she shifted her weight onto her forearms, and lifted one leg up into the air. Once she found her balance, she lifted her other leg, finding her vertical balance with both feet in the air. Then she bent her back and knees, bring her feet forward until they nearly touched her head. Finally, she pushed up onto her hands, and shifted one foot so it was behind the other knee, stretching her core muscles.

"Wow, I want to do that!" Mara exclaimed, taking Kaydia out of her focused zone. She fell back onto her feet and pushed herself upright before she could laugh, and fall flat on her face. Mara grabbed her hand. "Can you teach me how to do a handstand? Please?"

Another laugh, as she glanced over at Quentin, "If it's okay with your father." He nodded in amusement and Mara practically squealed with joy. "Alright, start with a cartwheel, and I will catch your ankles, okay?" Mara nodded, and hardly gave Kaydia time to step back, before she vaulted forward. As promised, Kaydia caught her ankles, and positioned them over her body. "I got you, but once you find your balance, I will let go, okay?"

"Don't let go!" Mara called out body shaking as she tried to hold the position.

"You got this, okay? You just have to find your balance. Breathe in, and exhale, slowly. Feel those muscles in your tummy? They are going to help you keep balance now."

"Okay… I feel them…"

"Good, now, straighten your legs, and tighten those muscles to keep steady."

Another deep breath, and her body stopped shaking. "I think I got it. You can let go now."

Kaydia bent over to meet Mara's line of sight, "I already did."

"I'm doing it?" Kaydia nodded. "I'm doing it! Dad look, I'm doing a handstand!"

"And when you get really good at them, I'll teach you how to do it with one hand!"
 
“Great job!” Quentin applauded, genuinely impressed. He’d been, what? Nine, before he had managed an unsupported handstand? Kaydia was an excellent teacher, he decided. And incredibly flexible. It was difficult to ignore that fact.

“One handed push-ups?” Mara asked, sounding intrigued. Then, before he could move to stop her, she bit her lip in concentration and lifted her left hand.

For a short moment it looked like she’d succeed. And then gravity asserted itself, and she toppled over. Right into Quentin’s arms. “Easy there,” he laughed. “You just managed a handstand. Work on those first.”

“I almost had it!” she complained.

“You did,” he agreed. “But you didn’t shift your balance right. Watch.” Dropping into a squat, he placed both palms in the ground. Elbows flexed, taking his weight as his knees bent and his feet left the ground. Then, carefully, he extended them straight up.

“Wow!” Mars’s eyes went wide again. “Look, mom! Dad can do a handstand too!”

“Hang on,” Quentin breathed. He shifted his weight and spread his legs, then lifted his left hand clear of the ground. “See? It’s just balance.”

Mara nodded, expression serious. “Just balance.” The her expression turned impish. “Let’s get him, mom! she yelled as she tackled him.
 
Quentin was a bit of a show-off. Not that Kaydia minded terribly, considering what he was showing off. But her own competitive nature itched under the surface, and it took a great deal of willpower not to give in.

Mara's playful suggestion, however, melted the last of her willpower, and together they tackled him onto the carpet. Playful wrestling and tickling ensued, with no clear teams or winners. Just shifting alliances and squeals of delight and huffy protestations. Once they were all out of breath, they lay in a muddled pile of limbs and bodies, with Kaydia and Mara resting beside each other against Quentin's chest. And even once she caught her breath, Kaydia wasn't sure she wanted to move.

Mara turned, and nudged Quentin. "Can we move onto sword fighting now?"

"Sword fighting?" Kaydia asked, practicing her mom voice.

"It's uh… for self-defense."

"Practicing sword fighting for self-defense is only useful if you are going to have a sword on you when you need to defend yourself. Which is why I prefer unarmed combat, for self-defense."

Mara thought about it for a moment, and nodded, "Because you always have your fists available."

"Exactly," Kaydia agreed, pushing herself to her feet. "Maybe later, I can show you some basic moves?"

"Yes!" Mara exclaimed, jumping to her feet. She took a surprisingly accurate Echani martial art pose, "Can you teach me how to flip over enemies and attack them from behind?"

Kaydia laughed, and shook her head, "I am not sure where you got the Idea that I even know how to do that. I was thinking we start with some simple throws, and deflections." She offered Quentin a hand up –not that he needed it, given his earlier display of strength and flexibility– but it was an excuse to touch him again, an excuse she found herself looking for. "I am going to start on some breakfast, in the meantime. Any requests?"
 
“Frycakes!” Mara exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “With sausages and milk and juice and ackenberry syrup and rylth melon!”

Quentin took Kaydia’s hand and let her help him up. “She’s got a healthy appetite,” he grinned. Her grip was warm and strong, and he made himself release her hand with some effort. “I encourage her to exercise a lot, and I’m trying to teach her to eat what she needs.” He glanced at the empty cereal box that never got thrown away. “She’s usually pretty good at it.”

“Dad,” Mara said seriously. “Mom can’t make frycakes if you keep talking to her.” She pulled two meter-long lengths of plastic pipe out from under the couch, and tossed one to him. “In guard!” she called out, taking a stance.

“That’s en garde,” Quentin corrected, taking a two-handed stance with his pipe pointed down to the right. “Now concentrate, and pay attention to my hands.”

Mara took a quick step forwards and right, slashing out with her pipe. Quentin brought his own pipe sweeping around in an arc, point still down. As he did Mara stepped left and lunged, which he countered by stepping forward 45 degrees to his right and twisting as his pipe came up. There was a clacking sound, followed by three more as Mara struck low at his leg and high at his shoulder and then worked to deflect a riposte he launched at her chest.

“Careful,” he cautioned as she disengaged. “Too much aggression can be dangerous.”

“I know, dad,” she replied, raising the pipe to guard once more. “I’ll be careful.”

The practice bout continued as Kaydia cooked, filling the air with grunts and the sounds of hollow plastic clicking together. During each exchange Quentin kept up a flow of commentary and correction, subtly adjusting Mara’s form and tactics. By the time they were finished, Quentin had five touches to Mara’s two.

“That’s a lot harder than practicing forms, dad,” she observed as she put the tubes away.

“Yeah. The air doesn’t hit back.” He grinned and tousled her hair. “But form practice is important as well. It helps your muscles learn.”

“Well, my muscles want breakfast!” Mara laughed, bounding around the island into the kitchen. “Can I help, mom?”
 
"Almost done," Kaydia ensured the girl, flipping over the last frycake, "Why don't you set the table, while I finish up?" Mara took this task very seriously, placing a full setting at each seat. By the time Kaydia and Quentin brought over all the prepared food, the table was quite crowded. Mara wasted no time piling her plate with frycakes and rylth melon bites.

Kaydia started with a cup of coffee, and poured a cup for Quentin. "So, what needs to be done for the trip? I am help with packing, if you want."

"Trip?" Mara piped up, managing to fit a word in between mouthful of frycakes, "Are we going on a trip?"

"We are going on something of a vacation, while your dad make a delivery to Jedha. We'll be visiting Corellia, Alderaan, Ord Martell, Arrikan and finally Jedha."

"Wow, I've never been off world before," Mara gushed, cutting her sausage in half with a fork. "Or, at least I don't remember, but I guess I must have." She was quiet for a time, enough that Kaydia almost prodded, before she spoke up again, "Have you traveled the galaxy much, Mom?"

"I have, yes. I've been all over." She chuckled softly, to avoid thinking too hard about how anchorless her life had been, since the last time she left Coruscant.

"So, what's your favorite planet?"

"Favorite? Hmm," she considering, buying herself time to think by chewing on a bit of frycake. "You know, I've never thought about it. I don't think I have a favorite."

"Really? You don't have a favorite planet?" Mara shook her head, and cut her last bit fryckae into manageable pieces. "Well, what about you Dad? What's your favorite planet?"
 
“My favorite planet?” Quentin chewed a bite of frycake thiughtfully, then swallowed. “It’s hard to say. Ilum was nice,” he glanced up at Kaydia, who looked a little surprised. “The Jedi let me visit, thanks to my line of work. It’s pretty there, but cold.”

He ate another bite. “Dantooine is nice. Republic settlements date back to before the Jedi Civil war there, but the populace makes an effort to blend their cities in with the natural surroundings. Their cities look like parks, and you can drive through large towns without ever realizing you saw a building.”

“It sounds boring,” Mara grumbled.

“Maybe. Next to Coruscant, a lot of places are.” He poured a little more ackenberry sauce in his cakes. “So. Let me think… Pelagin was interesting. 97% of the surface area is covered with water, so the populace lives on floating cities.”

“They live on boats?” Mara’s eyes were wide. “The size of cities?”

“Yeah.” He grinned at her enthusiasm. “Then there’s Onolorrum, which is still terraforming. It rains all the time there, and you see sheets of lightning that fill the sky. And Kartassa Miniris, a gas giant where people live in flying cities.”

“We have to go there!” Mara exclaimed. “Please? Please?”

Quentin laughed. “We’ll see. But not on this trip.”
 
Kaydia was quiet while Quentin rattled off planets he'd visited. She found herself jealous of the life he'd led, traveling for the sake of seeing the galaxy, instead of complete this job, and the next. Falling in love, settling down, starting a family, choices she never had, even before the Black Sun captured her. She pushed away from the table, distracting herself from her self-pity by collecting the dirty dishes in a pile.

Mara finished her glass of juice, and handed Kaydia the empty cup. Still she had questions "Are any of those planets cold? Like snow cold?"

"The ones were are heading to?" Kaydia considered for a moment. "Jedha can get cold, but it doesn't really snow there. Why?"

"Oh, well, um…" Mara hesitated, playing with the last bite of rylth melon on her plate. "Well, I want to see snow. I've never seen it before, living here on Coruscant."

"The fact that it doesn't snow here is why so many people live on Coruscant," Kaydia explained with a chuckle. "It's fun in short doses, but gets old really quick. I spent two months on Ando Prime, and the bulk of what I had to wear to keep warm made it hard to get around." She tried not to think about the other reason she had trouble getting around at that time.

"Ando Prime, really?" Mara repeated, eyes wide. "Would, would you ever consider going back?"

"Actually, yeah," she admitted, rinsing off the dishes and loading them into the autowasher. "I do have a bit of unfinished business there."

"Would you take me with you? When you go?" The question caught Kaydia off guard, and then she didn't answer right away, Mara grabbed her hand with both of her own and added a "Please?"

"Well, it would be up to your father, of course, but maybe we could visit for a few days, play in the snow. Maybe once everything settles down."
 
“Ando Prime?” Quentin thought for a moment. The name sounded familiar for some reason. “I’ve never been there, but it sounds nice.” He smiled, enjoying Mara’s enthusiasm. “And maybe we can go there, once we’re done with this trip.”

He watched as Mara bounced excitedly and began clearing the dishes. This felt… nice. Maybe too nice. He’d have to remind her that they were playing a role in order to get off world and then out of the Core. And that Kaydia was playing a role as well. They couldn’t get attached, because she had her own responsibilities to attend to.

Even if Mara was really happy right now. Even if it had felt nice, waking up next to Kaydia.

There is emotion, he reminded himself with a sigh, and yet there is peace. “Mara?”

“Yes, dad?” she asked, looking up from the dishwasher.

“You need to go get a shower now.”

“Can I get a bath instead?” Mara raced over to the cereal box on the end table and picked up a colorful plastic toy. “We’ve got bubble bath, and I got this, and…”

“Yes, yes,” Quentin laughed. “You can have a bath instead.”

“YAY!” Mara exclaimed, running towards the bathroom.

Quentin smiled as she slammed the bathroom door behind her. A bath would be a brand new experience for her. Children in the temple started showering by the age of four, just because of space requirements. “Don’t use too much soap!” he called.

“I won’t!” she called back.

Turning his attention back to Kaydia, he shook his head. “Too much time on spacecraft, I guess. But I guess I shouldn’t complain that she wants to take a bath. And speaking of spacecraft, I’ll be picking up our tickets this afternoon. The liner is lifting at the end of the week.”

He hesitated a moment. “Also… do you need anything for the trip? To maintain your cover as my wife, or the like.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “We should probably pick out a wedding bracelet for you, unless you prefer a pendant. And, uhm..,”. This was going to feel awkward. “Should we die your hair? You’re a very, uhm, memorable lady. And your hair stands out.”
 
"Pendant," Kaydia replied, brushing a loose strand of hair back behind her ear. "I occasionally use Teras Kasai fighting bracelets, particularly in situations where weapons would be frowned upon. A little bit of self-defense I can't afford to forgo, at this time."

"Should we dye your hair? You're a very, uhm, memorable lady. And your hair stands out."

"Are you sure? I figured that, like this, it is more believable that I am Mara's mother." It really was remarkable that she and Mara had similar hair colors. Enough that she figured that Quentin must have a type. "But you may be right, a different color could help me blend in better."

Quentin transferred her a generous sum to purchase incidentals for the trip. While she already had a few days of clothes, they were mostly functional outfits for completing her missions, or outfits to entice her targets. Neither were ideal for a mother or the wife of a successful gemologist. That she had any idea what that looked like. This was entirely new ground for her. Still, she managed to settle on a couple flowy dresses and some loose, comfy lounge wear. Just a few pieces, what might be necessary for a week's travel. Along with the hair dye, she arranged to have everything delivered to Quentin's residence. Better than going out in public, and risking being seen.

Quentin was still gone once the package arrived, so she took her time in his bathroom, applying blonde dye, letting it set in, and rinsing it out in the shower. By the time the fresher finished drying her off, the transformation was complete. So she tried on one of the new dresses, a black sleeveless, asymmetrical dress, paired with thigh-high boots she already owned. Quentin returned once she was dressed, and she decided

"Well, what do you think? Do I pass for a suburban wife?" she asked, striking a playful pose. With a laugh, she flicked back her long blonde hair, "Am I still memorable?"
 
Once Master Quentin left, Mara went to her room to work on her lessons. They were a continuation of the things she’d been learning at the Temple: reading and writing, math, galactic languages (she was learning Durese right now), political history of the Republic, ethics, science. Basic stuff. And she was being very diligent, and not daydreaming about playing in the snow at all.

And it was all boring.

“I don’t wanna congogate Durese verbs,” she complained, sliding off her bed and trying to do a handstand. It held for a few seconds, before she collapsed in a heap.

“It’s part of the educational program your father assigns,” her minder droid chirped.

“I don’t care,” Mara pouted from her heap on the floor. “I’m tired. I wanna do something.”

“We could move to meditation and physical training,” the minder suggested.

“No,” Mara sighed. “I wanna do something fun!” She rolled over and bounced to her feet. “I’m going to see what mom’s doing. Maybe she’ll want to do something!”

Padding out of her room, she saw a bunch of open boxes. Most of them contained clothes. More clothes than she had ever seen for one person. At the Temple, you had three outfits - one to wear, one to clean, and one for special occasions. But one box had a smaller box in it, with a picture of a pretty lady on it. “Hair dye?” she read, wondering why Kaydia would get that.

Speaking of her make-believe but super cool mom, Mara heard her in Master Quentin’s bathroom. So she followed the sound of water and movement, and peeked in the door. There sat Kaydia - much prettier than the lady on the box - wrapped in a towel and working dye into her pretty hair.

Mara slipped back into the main room. “Why would she…?”

And then it hit her.

Master Quentin was a Shadow, and one of the things he’d started teaching her was how to be sneaky. And Kaydia, from he memories she’d picked up on through the Force, was bad ass and sneaky. (She giggled at the bad word.). Kaydia was disguising herself!

A grin slid over Mara’s face. “I,” she declared, grabbing the other bottle, “can be sneaky and cool too!”

-*-

Reflexively scanning for tails, Quentin returned to the apartment. As far as he could tell he wasn’t being followed, but these days a little paranoia was sensible insurance for a Jedi on Coruscant. Or for someone sharing an apartment with a loyal Republic Intellgence agent.

“I’m home!” he called as he stepped inside, pausing to hang up his jacket. Clearly, from the boxes in the living room, Kaydia had put his money to work.

“Well,” he heard Kaydia ask, “what do you think? Do I pass for a suburban wife?"

She stepped from the bedroom and struck a pose, letting the skirts of her dress flourish like a gown. It looked good on her, but the thing that caught his eye was her hair. She’d gone blonde, and something about her looked very familiar.

With a laugh, she flicked back her long blonde hair, "Am I still memorable?"

“Yes,” he laughed in return. “Yes you are.” You look familiar, somehow. “But… suburban?” He laughed again, and gestured out the window. “This is very much an urban..,”

“How about me, dad?” Mara asked from behind him. “Am I still memorable?”

Turning, Quentin had to stifle a laugh. Mara had dyed her hair blonde as well, and had improvised a dress similar to Kaydia’s by taking scissors to a bed sheet. “Yes,” he grinned. “Yes you are.”

“Good.” Then she frowned. “I… might have made a mess, though.” Her eyes glanced nervously back towards her bathroom. “That stuff comes out of the bottle fast.”
 
Quentin's eyes lingered on her, in a way Kaydia didn't mind. It wasn't a lustful leer, the type of look she was used to fielding, there was something warm about it. Safe

"I didn't do that!" she insisted, both hands up in front of her. "I wouldn't, not without your permission." Shit, was she supposed to watch Mara? Quentin hadn't said anything, but maybe he figured that was self-explanatory?

Whatever the case, Quentin wasn't mad, but amused. And, once the initial shock wore off, so was she. She never expected to have a mini version of herself running around, but it was adorable.

"Here, I will help you clean it up," Kaydia offered, following Mara back into her bathroom.



Kaydia spent the rest of the afternoon and evening packing her new clothes for the trip, and getting Mara's things packed. She seemed overwhelmed the prospect, trying to fit half her belongings in a single suitcase. Kaydia managed to talk her down to one stuffed animal, and two favorite books.

"It's not like you're never coming back," Kaydia assured her, rubbing her back in a circular motion. "It's just a short trip, and once things calm down here, I'm sure you and your father will come back home."

"Home…" Mara repeated, softly. She was hiding it well, but Kaydia could sense the sorrow in the word. "Wait, you said me and my father, but, won't you come back with us?"

The question damn near broke her heart. "I, I don't know. It depends, really…"

"You have to!" Mara Insisted. "You're the mom, and the mom doesn't leave and…" The poor girl was on the verge of tears and Kaydia realized she must miss her mother deeply, and her own loss tugged on her heartstrings. She gathered the girl up in her arms.

"Hey, I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, okay?" She knew she shouldn't make such commitments, not while she was a wanted woman, but she couldn't stomach leaving Mara now. "We'll figure something out, okay? Me, and your father, we'll work it out?" Somehow, they would have to work it out.

After a story and a cuddle, Mara calmed down enough to sleep, and Kaydia sat at her bedside for a while longer. Her child would be about Mara's age, by now. Was she somewhere safe, with a family that loved her? The Dai Bendu promised they would keep the child safe, and all this time she thought it was better to stay far away. She released a heavy sigh and wiped away her tears, before joining Quentin in the bedroom.

"Mara sure is a handful," Kaydia remarked with a laugh, picking out some bed clothes from her go bag. "An absolute delight, don't get me wrong. But she must keep you busy, all by yourself." She danced around what she wanted to say, not quite comfortable asking Quentin if she could stick around. He was already doing so much for her, how could she ask for anymore?

Once she changed, she slid into bed. "I really don't know how I can thank you for everything you've done."
 
Quentin looked up from his data pad. “Well, you did help Mara clean up all that dye…” he said with a chuckle. Then his expression turned more serious. “But, don’t worry about it. You’re helping me get her off Coruscant. The way things are going right now, it’s feeling less and less like a safe place to raise a child.” Or be a Jedi.

The thought sent a chill down his spine. Rumors were floating around about the “Temple Massacre” to the point that the Office of the Supreme Chancellor had been forced to address them. Officially, the children - dubbed “brainwashed child soldiers of the rebel Jedi Council” - had been subdued by the 501st, and they were now being cared for and deprogrammed. The security footage of Darth Vader slaughtering them, which Master Valis had managed to locate and release in the Holonet, was being debunked as “fake news” and “crisis actors”.

Mara might be he only survivor of the Temple Massacre. He had to get her away.

“Really,” he said, swallowing the emotions, “I should be thanking you. I’m not sure we’d be able to make this trip without you.” Placing his data pad on the side table, ge turned off the lights. “Thank you.”

-*-

Mara huddled against the wall, next to two of the younger children, trying to shut out the distant sound of blaster fire. Master Cuall had told them all to take shelter in the dormitory, and then had gone to join the other Jedi defending the Temple.

She hadn’t come back. And the shooting was still going on.

“I’m scared,” whimpered Callie Orr, two years younger. “Are we gonna be all right?”

“We’ll be fine,” Dar-tal Klor assured her, glancing at the door. “The Masters will make everything better.”

The door hissed open, and Mara gasped. She recognized the man standing there. Anakin Skywalker always came to visit them, when he came to the Temple. He said he never got to have little brothers or sisters, so this was his chance. But… there was something wrong. A… a darkness, around him.

Dar-tal walked towards him. “Master Skywalker, there are too many of them.” He twisted his hands nervously on his training lightsaber. “What are we going to do?”

Anakin looked at them, head nodding as if counting. And then he ignited his lightsaber and…

Mara woke up, heart pounding, swallowing a scream of terror. Just a dream, she told herself, lying back and focusing on her breathing. Just a bad dream. But it had been real. And the news on the holonet, when she wasn’t fast enough to switch to a new program, said that Darth Vader was still hunting the Jedi.

Hunting her. And she knew who Darth Vader really was, and what he’d really done. And a Sith Lord wouldn’t let her live to tell people what he’d done. He’d find her. He’d find her, and then… and then…

-*-

Quentin woke up to a high-pitched scream of terror and the sound of small running feet in the apartment. As he untangled the blanket, reaching for the concealed compartment his lightsaber rested in, Mara exploded into the room and hurled himself into his arms. “He’s…he’s…” sobbed out, voice shaking with fear. “He… he’ll…”

“Shhh…” he whispered, stroking her hair awkwardly. Jedi training hadn’t prepared him for anything like this. “It’s…”. What? What could he say? Master Valis had told him what she’d survived.

Small arms tightened around him, and Mara began sobbing uncontrollably. “I’m here,” he murmured. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

His eye caught Kaydia’s, noting the expression of concern on her face. “Nightmares. The recent news has… unsettled her.” Which wasn’t a lie, really. “It’s… part of why I want to get her away from Coruscant.”
 
The surge of terror in the force woke Kaydia before the scream.

Kaydia awoke with a gasp, adrenaline pumping her heart and ringing in her ears. It took a few moments of deep, steady breathing to realize the emotions weren't hers, time enough for her to collect her thoughts and slide her hand into her go bag. Within she found the cool metal box and unlocked it with her fingerprint, retrieving a small blaster. She gripped it tighter as Mara's scream rung out, and was on her feet as the girl burst in. Hiding the blaster at her thigh, she noted Mara's words, and searched for other heartbeats in the force. Just the three of them. No intruders.

"Nightmares," Quentin explained, and while Kaydia nodded, she wasn't entirely convinced. Mara was scared of a person, a man, and that couldn't be explained away by the recent news. Still, she didn't prod. Whatever reason Quentin had for deception, she imagined it was to protect Mara, and she understood that instinct whole-heartedly. Perhaps in time she could convince him that she could help protect Mara, that she could be trusted with their secrets.

"I'll be right back," she offered, stepping lightly out of the room. Once she was out of sight, she held her blaster at ready, double checking the windows and doors and darkness. Once she was convinced of their security, she stopped by the kitchen and prepared a small glass of milk, warmed just a touch. A comforting token, which hopefully would soothe Mara back to sleep.

Returning to the bedroom, she offered Mara the glass of milk and slid back over to her side, to put her blaster away in its lockbox. Confirming that it was secure, she joined Mara and Quentin on the bed, and rubbed Mara's back. Again she considered how desperate Quentin was to get her off world, desperate enough to accept the help of a woman he didn't know. And the sword fighting lessons, not the ideal activity for a pair trying to avoid scrutiny as Jedi. Was Mara Force sensitive? Not all parents agreed to give their children over to the temple, and it would explain why Quentin was so determined to get her away from Coruscant. And why he would hide it so fervently.

Maybe she could extend a bit of trust. Admit to Quentin that she was force sensitive too, and that she could help train Mara, and protect her, and raise her. As a family. She joined the hug now, her hands over Mara's on Quentin's back.

"We're both here, Mara. And we both will protect you."
 
Quentin felt some of the tension drain out of Mara as Kaydia joined the embrace. “I know, mom,” the girl sniffed, wiggling a little to lean into Kaydia. “I know.”

After a couple of minutes she squirmed out of the joint embrace and sipped the milk. “It’s… warm.”

“It’s a traditional way to help people sleep,” Quentin explained.

Mara sipped it again. “Does it work?”

He shrugged. “Can’t hurt. And the warmth might help you relax,”

Mara gave him a skeptical glance, then began drinking it. Her head began nodding before she finished the glass, and Quentin was forced to collect it as she slumped into Kaydia’s embrace. Then he helped his ersatz wife tuck her into the middle of the large bed, before motioning for Kaydia to follow him into the living room.

“Maybe we should get some warm milk for ourselves,” he joked, closing the door and stifling a yawn. “But… thank you. For helping settle her down. And for checking that it really was just a dream.”

True to his word, he poured two glasses of milk and set them to warming. “I noticed the pistol you were holding when you left the bedroom,” he continued. “But I didn’t hear you have to shoot anyone.@

The heater beeped. He extracted the two glasses and brought them to the table along with a small bottle of honey. As he carried them, he wondered how much he should tell her.

Enough, he decided. The Force led me too her for a reason.

“I… uhm.” Taking a seat, he squirted honey into his glass. “There’s a little more going on than I originally told you. Mara’s…”

He hesitated, watching her reactions as he spoke. “She’s… Force sensitive. And she’s been training at the Temple, ever since her mother died. So… about five years.”

Sighing, he sipped his warm milk and honey. “My business relationship with the Temple meant that I got to see her with some frequency, enough to build a relationship with her. And with the other kids in her cluster. They were good kids, and I was Uncle Quentin to them.”

He let his eyes drift towards the dark window. “You know that video Republic News is calling a fake? The one people are calling the Temple Massacre?” The one with a Jedi Master butchering children? “She, uhm… was there. I… I don’t know how she survived, just that…”

The story he was telling combined with what he’d seen on the video, and suddenly his hands and voice were shaking. “She… she saw it. Not… not in a video, Kaydia. She was there. And…”

He had to put the glass down, and he nearly dropped it when he did. “I have to get her away from here,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “What… who she is… if anyone found out..,”
 
Kaydia followed Quentin into the kitchen, weighing whether she should tell him about her history tonight, or wait for tensions to died down and tell him in the morning. For the time being, she let him speak.

"I noticed the pistol you were holding when you left the bedroom."

"Sorry," she replied, recognizing his concern, "I should have told you that I carry, especially with a child in the house. But I keep the weapon secure, in a lockbox that only opens with my fingerprint." But he wasn't mad at her, and she was relieved. She didn't want Quentin mad at her, she realized.

Then he confirmed her suspicions about Mara, and it was worse than she believed possible. The Temple Massacre was real? She'd seen the video, but she didn't want to believe a Jedi, even a fallen Jedi, was capable of such brutality towards children. And Mara had survived it. The girl was strong to have survived that, to keep her sanity, more or less. She would need guidance, guidance her father could provide her.

"We're going to get her out, okay? We will get her somewhere safe, no matter what. Because… Because I am also force-sensitive." Admitting that out loud was nerve-wracking, after she nearly gotten killed just a few days ago. Kaydia forced a steady breath, and sipped at her milk. It wasn't her preferred drink for relaxing, but it was probably the safest in the current situation.

"I was trained to padawan rank, but I never completed my training. I was forced to leave the temple as a teenager, but I developed my skills while infiltrating various crime syndicates in the outer rim." Mostly true, but it danced around her own complicity. Once they got to safety, she could tell him the whole truth.

"I don't have anything left of my old life, but I can use the skills I learned to keep you and Mara safe. I can train Mara, in the ways of the Force. It wouldn't be strict Jedi training, but it will keep her alive." Now she grabbed his hand, both hands, in her own. "I want to help you and Mara."
 
Force sensitive? Quentin let that roll around in his mind even as he enjoyed the feel of her hand gripping his. She was Force sensitive. More, she’d had Jedi training before she left - no, was forced to leave - the Temple.

Discretely, he opened himself to the Force as she spoke. Enough to feel her emotions, but not enough to pry into her thoughts. And it was clear that, while she was holding some things back, she was sincere in her offer. So maybe he should offer more trust as well.

“Give me a moment,” he said, squeezing and releasing her hand. “Let me get something, and I’ll be right back.” With that he rose and disappeared into the bedroom. Minutes later he returned, laying a hilt on the table between them.

“Given the risk you just took, I owe you the truth. And an apology.” He smiled sheepishly. “My real name is Marneus Ren. And I’m not a gemologist. I’m a Jedi Master.” It was mostly true. Marneus Ren was the name he used when he interacted with other Jedi, because Quentin Hall had been officially dead for nearly 15 years.

The smile thinned, and he glanced at the bedroom. “Mara isn’t my daughter. Not, not biologically, at least. She… my Master helped her escape the Temple. She really was there at the Massacre. And he charged me to keep her safe.” He shrugged, fleetingly meeting her eyes. “Father and daughter is a much safer story than Master and Padawan, right now.”

Sighing, he reached out and took her hand. “I’m sorry I lied to you. But I’m not sorry that I did what I had to do to keep Mara as safe as possible. Because even if there is no blood kinship between us, she’s my daughter now.”

Drawing a deep breath, he looked her in the eyes. “If you’re willing to accept that as an apology, and if you’re still willing to help us, then I would be forever grateful.”
 
"Marneus Ren?" She didn't recalled any Jedi by that name, but it had been almost two decades since she'd left the temple, so it wasn't surprising she didn't know him. Besides, whatever his real name was, she still needed to call him by his cover name, Quentin. Maintaining cover, maintaining all their covers, was their best bet for survival.

A Jedi, though. No wonder he was as inexperienced and awkward about the whole marriage thing as she was. She suspected she had more experience with sleeping around, but there wasn't any time for relationships or love in her world. And that likely wasn't going to change anytime soon. A loveless marriage, nothing more than an act to protect Mara, and themselves.

And yet, when he looked into her eyes, gripping her hands in his, it didn't matter. She nodded, "I understand why you lied; I don't hold it against you. And I still want to help you both." There was something more, tugging at the back of her mind, something so familiar about his gaze. She'd seen them before, somewhere.

Mara had the same eyes. An incredible coincidence, given that they weren't related. On top of the incredible coincidence that they all found each other, a group of force sensitives, all needing the guise of a family to get safely off world. Maybe it was all meant to be?

"We should get back to bed," she suggested, standing form the table. Still holding his hand, she realized. Still holding his hand as he stood, their bodies nearly touching now. Damn, why did he have to be a Jedi? With a nervous laugh she let go of his hand, and brushed her hair back. It was a good thing Mara was sharing the bed with them. It would be a tight fit, with all three of them, but at least there was no temptation.

For now, at least.
 
“We should,” he agreed, squeezing her hand one last time before tucking his lightsaber away. “We’ve got an early morning.”

Following her back to bed, he found himself wishing the fiction of marriage were real. Or, at the very least, that Mara wasn’t occupying the bed as well. Then he sighed. Idle daydreams were nice, but he had to face reality. The next few weeks of this charade would be the most dangerous for them all. Getting sidetracked, no matter how pleasant a diversion that might be, would get them killed. Or worse.

-*-

Quentin cooked breakfast the next morning, crafting a decent (if not pretty) meal of fried egg and stir fried vegetables over rice. As they ate, Mara mulled over what Master Quentin and Miss Kaydia had told her.

“So, mom knows we’re Jedi, dad?” she repeated, gesturing with her fork. “And mom didn’t finish her training, so she’s ‘just’ a really cool spy with Force powers?” Excitement danced in her grey eyes. “This! Is! AWESOME!”

She hadn’t missed the fact that mom hadn’t said anything about dad being a Shadow. That made sense. Dad said the Shadows were super secret Jedi, and since she was going to be a Shadow she wouldn’t say anything either. Not until dad said she could. Still, if mom was a Force-powered spy..?

She’d be able to help train her to be a Shadiw, even if she didn’t know!

“I have the best mom and dad!” she gushed. “Can you teach me how to be a spy, mom? I wanna sneak around, and have adventures, and fight bad guys, and…”

“And finish your breakfast,” Quentin admonished. “Then, make sure you have everything you need packed. Because we won’t be coming back.”

Mara began shoveling egg and rice into her mouth. “‘T’s aw pak’d,” she said as she chewed. “Mum he’ped. Yussrdy.”

“Finish chewing, then talk,” Quentin prodded. “And make a final check.”

“Aye-aye,” Mara replied brightly, snapping a salute. Her grey flickered to Kaydia. “That’s how spies do it, right?”
 
"Can you teach me how to be a spy, mom? I wanna sneak around, and have adventures, and fight bad guys, and…"

"It's not nearly that glamourous," Kaydia insisted, stirring her coffee to allow it to cool a little more. Still, that wasn't quite true, was it? At least the jobs she did often occupied the space where obscene wealth and the filthy criminal belly intersected.

"Aye-aye," Mara replied brightly, snapping a salute. Her grey flickered to Kaydia. "That's how spies do it, right?"

"Not so much spies. That's more a military thing. Your father may know…" She met Quentin's eyes from across the table, "Did you serve in the Clone Wars?" Most Jedi had. The war made Anakin Skywalker into a Republic hero. Had it also turned him into a monster?

"Didn't all the Jedi?" Mara asked, pouring herself a second glass of juice.

"No. I was in the consular program, when I was in the Jedi, and most of us weren't trained for battle positions. Teachers, scholars, researchers – I was actually training to become a librarian."

"Librarian?" Mara scrunched up her face in disapproval. "Aren't you glad you became a spy instead?"

Kaydia laughed, and sipped at her coffee to avoid answering. Until she figured out an angle that would avoid her messy past. "You'd be surprised how much my librarian training overlapped with my spy work."

"Really?"

"A lot of spying is studying. Studying people, locations, situations, and then cataloguing all that information to determine what's important, and what isn't." She scooped a bite of egg and rice into her mouth, before continuing. "For example, I began to suspect that you may be force sensitive before Quentin admitted it to me, just from analyzing you and your behavior."

"Hmm." Mara nodded slowly, "So I have to learn to hide it better?"

"Well, you are still learning." She squeezed Mara's shoulder and patted her back. "I am very familar with Jedi, and force sensitives, far more than most people. However, the people who may be hunting us, the ones we have to worry about? They will be very knowledgeable as well. But, you have me here to teach you how to it, and Quentin."

"Dad?"

"He's very good. I fully believed he was your father from the first moment." Mara smiled, a knowing smile, as if she were still keeping a secret. Kaydia didn't say anything, didn't prod, but they'd have to work on that.
 
“I…” Quentin hesitated. “Yes. I served in the Clone Wars. Not on the front lines, though. I had a squad of infiltrators, and our missions were generally intelligence gathering, sabotage, and helping train local resistance groups.”

“So you were a spy too?” Mara asked, eyes wide.

“A special operations commando, really. Which is how I survived Order 66 - I had a much smaller unit to evade.” Which was true, from a certain point of view. But he’d trained them himself, and they had been dangerous. He’d barely escaped, and they were still out there.

Kaydia’s description of her own aborted training at the Temple made him wistful. He listened, remembering the Temple in its glory and trying not to fall into depression. Kaydia’s explanation of how she’d spotted Mara as Force sensitive made him peek back up.

“But,” Kaydia finished “you have me here to teach you how to it, and Quentin."

"Dad?”

"He's very good. I fully believed he was your father from the first moment."

Mara’s smile was one that said “I have a secret”, which Quentin couldn’t help but agree with. No doubt, she was thinking about what he’d told her of Shadows. “I guess it’s the commando training,” he said, downing the last of his juice. “Now. Are you done eating?”

Mara shoved a final bite into her mouth. “Yeff.”

“Then go do a last check of your luggage.” He gathered up the dishes, and loaded them into the cleaner. “I’ll do the same. It wouldn’t do to forget anything.”

“Aye-aye!” Mara saluted, then dashed into her room.

Starting the cleaner, Quentin headed for his own bedroom. “Did you really think she was my daughter?” he asked, before grabbing his lightsaber and a bag of tools. “I’m glad, don’t get me wrong. But I was concerned that story wouldn’t stand up to deep scrutiny.”

As he spoke, he removed the outer casing of his lightsaber. “And can you think of anything I can do to improve the performance.” Slowly, meticulously, he began disassembling the mechanisms. “I’d like to maximize our odds of survival.”
 
"You're very convincing. It's clear you care deeply about Mara, and she trusts you," Kaydia explained, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "And I think we will make for a believable family."

"And can you think of anything I can do to improve the performance." Slowly, meticulously, he began disassembling the mechanisms. "I'd like to maximize our odds of survival."

"I'd have to think about it." Kaydia offered, leaning back on her elbows on the bed. Unfortunately, the only thing she could think about was Quentin pushing her down onto her back as he climbed over her. One hand going under her shirt as he claimed a hungry kiss from her lips, grinding his erection against her in a delicious promise of what was to come.

Fuck, she was frustrated.

It wasn't like she hadn't gone longer without sex, in the past. But she didn't usually have to share a bed with a gorgeous, celibate warrior-monk. And it wasn't exactly like she could get her needs met elsewhere, while she was playing the role of wife and mother. Infidelity could blow their entire cover, at the moment.

"I suppose the most important thing is for all of us to get on the same page, with our stories. We all need to have the same version of our history together." She sat up now, pulling one leg close to her chest to distract herself from her dirty thoughts. "We should probably go over that together, now. How we met, when we married. Did you still want to go with the story you developed in the bar, or should we rework it from the beginning?"

"And, uh, well, this is where things get awkward. Do you, uh, have much experience with women? I figure it's unlikely you've had a relationship, given your position, but have you ever had feelings for someone? Been… intimate?" Again her fantasies roared to the forefront of her mind, and it was harder to push them away now. Even though she knew it would be easy for him to read her mind, to sense her thoughts. But fuck, the idea that he might was even hotter, bordering on that fantasy she never could fulfill.

"I'm sorry, if I am probing too deeply. It's unlikely to affect much, really. We don't need a physical relationship to pretend to be a couple, I just… Well, I just like to have all my bases covered."
 
Quentin was silent for a moment, concentrating as he reduced his lightsaber to a collection of components. “I’ve had a couple of relationships,” he finally admitted, before half turning to face her. His expression was partially sly, partially embarrassed. “A, well, I guess you’d say a girlfriend. A fellow Jedi. It… didn’t work out, in the long run.”

As he spoke, he began concealing the lightsaber components in the carrying case for the gemstones he was carrying. “And my first mission, through circumstances entirely beyond my control I assure you, ended with me living with a courtesan for eight months.”

He looked up again, the embarrassed humor glittering in his gaze. “So, yes. I’ve been, as you put it, intimate.” The khyber crystal nestled into a spot among the other, lower quality stones. I would take an expert to realize his crystal was the best of the lot, though. A layman would ignore it’s quartz-like appearance in favor of the scintillating blaze of colors from the lesser stones.

Intimate. Damn if the word itself didn’t conjure mental images of Kaydia beneath him, legs gripping his hips as he slowly entered her…

He pushed the thought aside.

“Last night’s story seems plausible to me,” he replied, focusing back on the task at hand. “We met… four months ago? No, wait. We married four months ago, after a long-distance courtship that began a year ago. And this is our delayed honeymoon cruise, slightly spoiled by the realities of my work. Which reminds me…”

Setting the gemstone case down, he picked up a small box and crossed the room to sit next to her. “The wedding necklace,” he explained, opening the box. “You seem to prefer clean lines, so I tried to keep it simple.”
 
"Alright then," Kaydia replied with a nod, processing Quentin's admittance. It turned out her Jedi had more experience in relationships that she did. Even if one counted the on-again/off-again fling she had with a Black Sun Vigo, which she didn't. This tidbit made her a little jealous, but, more than that, it made her hopeful. Maybe there was a chance to turn this fake marriage into a real relationship. Or, at the very least, a fake marriage with benefits?

"Four months ago," she repeated, cementing the story in her mind, "So we'd still be in the honeymoon phase of the relationship. Affectionate, flirty, attached at the hip. Would certainly deflect the possibility that you're Jedi. We can say I lived on Naboo, before we married. I was born there, so there is a kernel of truth in it, which makes for a better lie."

Her eyes followed him as he sat beside her, their legs touching now. "Wow, it's beautiful," she remarked, avoiding his gaze as she smiled. He made an effort to pick something she would like. It didn't mean anything, just consideration, but she enjoyed living in the brief fantasy that it might mean more.

"Do you mind putting it on me?" She asked, turning away from him. Not that she couldn't do it herself, but it was an excuse to practice intimacy and affection with him, little act that would go a long way in bolstering their performance. As she gathered her hair in her fist, her finger brushed against an old scar at the base of her neck. Harlon. Another fling, and another regret. Another fantasy to inflame her arousal and leaving her wanting more. Seeking distractions, she fingered the necklace, centering between her clavicles.

"Uh, did we need something for you as well? I am not really familiar with Coruscant's marriage rituals."
 
“Naboo?” He shrugged. “That would work - the planet has a few kathrite deposits, so I’d have had reason to visit. How would we have met, though? Professionally?” A ghost of a memory, inspired by her now-blonde hair, made his smile impish. “Or was it as cliched as a chance meeting in a hotel bar?”

He sat closer than he realized, his leg pressed against hers as he revealed the necklace. Smiling at her approval, he nodded when she asked him to put it on her. “I’m glad you like it,” he said, draping the necklace around her throat. Her skin felt electric as his fingers smoothed the chain and fastened the clasp. “I don’t have a lot of experience buying jewelry.”

His hands rested on her shoulders for a moment, and he found himself wanting to taste the nape of her neck. To slide his arms around her body and beneath her shirt, exploring her. Arousing her. A sudden image of how she might look, wearing the chain and nothing else as she moved beneath him, offering herself…

“Uh, did we need something for you as well? I am not really familiar with Coruscant's marriage rituals.

“Uhm..,”. He shook off the distracting images. “Yes, actually. Here.” He produced a second box, containing a gold chain. “It’s not a perfect match, but it will do”. He held out his right arm. “Would you do the honors?”
 
"Gladly," Kaydia replied, cringing inwardly at how thirsty she came off. No, surely he would just think she were playing her role, even now, in the privacy of their bedroom. Regardless, she took her time, twisting his arm and rolling up his sleeve. Damn, but he had nice arms. Nice, strong arms. He'd be able to lift her, easily. Maybe even hold her, pinned against the wall as he took his pleasure from her? She bit her lip to focus, while she clasped the bracelet in place. "There you go."

"And, while it might be a cliché, these things do happen. Meeting in the hotel bar, that is." She could borrow from her own history here, using a previous liaison as the basis for their story. "Just two people, looking to spend the evening together to avoid loneliness. Neither of us anticipated our white hot chemistry, and neither of us were ready to say goodbye when morning came."

Her eyes went distant, remembering the invitation she offered Harlon, just to avoid him when he did come around. But things were complicated then, and they were simple now. "However, as the father of a young child, you couldn't just bring me around, without getting to know me better first. So you courted me from afar, until you were confident I would be a good stepmother for Mara. Until we both knew we wanted to spend our lives together."

Their eyes met again, and for a moment, she thought she might drown in his. "We could practice kissing," she murmured, drawing closer to Quentin. "Public displays of affection would be common at this point in our relationship…" Unconsciously she closed the distance between them, cupping his cheek in one hand and–

"Mom! Dad! I finished packing!" Mara declared, rolling her suitcase into the bedroom. Kaydia jumped to her feet, the haze of desire dispersed by embarrassment.

"We weren't do anything!" she stammered, taking another step away from Quentin, as if she couldn't trust herself around him.

Mara seemed confused by her statement, but nodded all the same. "Okay. Is that a new necklace? It's so pretty!" She hopped up on the bed, and wrapped her arms around Quentin from behind, "Do I get a pretty necklace too?"
 
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