"But I've already been through that," Mara protested. "You told me that that transition had to do with sacrifice. I made mine." She jabbed a finger toward the planet in front of them. "Right down there."

"I know," Luke said, and Mara felt a new warmth flow into his concern. That sacrifice, after all, was what had finally made this whole relationship possible. "But it wasn't the sacrifice aspect I was thinking of. It was more the—I don't know. Call it the need to face the past."

Mara snorted. "I've never even been to Chiss space. How can going out there possibly have anything to do with my past?"

"I don't know," Luke said. "I just said that was what it felt like, that's all."

Mara sighed. "You want to go, don't you?"

Luke reached over and took her hand. "I think we have to," he said. "If Parck was right about an enemy moving in toward us, we're going to need all the allies we can get. If there's even a chance of getting the Chiss on our side, we need to take it."

"Yes," Mara said, a shiver running up her back. "Unless Parck was lying about that, too. Well, if we're going to go, we'd better go."

Squeezing Luke's hand once, she let go and reached for the comm switch. "Let's contact Parck and get those coordinates."

The Jade Sabre was capable of somewhat better than 0.3 past lightspeed, and they made it to Crustai with nearly a day to spare. Here, unlike the apparently more casual situation they'd found at Nirauan, there was a welcoming committee waiting.

There were five of them, in fact: alien fighters, midway in size between an X-wing and a Skipray blastboat, moving up behind the Sabre as Luke brought the ship out of hyperspace. "Identify yourself," a hard voice snapped from the comm in passable Basic.

"Jedi Master Luke Skywalker and Jedi Knight Mara Jade Skywalker," Luke replied, glancing at the tactical plot Mara had pulled up. The fighters had moved neatly into flanking positions around the Jade Sabre, a move that could easily be justified as an innocent escort formation, but which would serve equally well for attack if necessary. "We're here at the request of Aristocra Chaf'orm'bintrano of the Fifth Ruling Family."

"Welcome, Master Skywalker," the voice said. "We will escort you to the Aristocra's diplomatic courier vessel. You will dock there and go aboard."

"Thank you," Luke said.

One of the fighters broke formation and moved out in front of the group, angling off to the left toward the edge of the planet directly ahead. Taking the cue, Luke shifted course to follow. "What do you think?" he asked.

"If they've borrowed any of our technology, it sure doesn't show," Mara said, leaning over the sensor scan she'd done of the fighters. "Most of the weapons are registering as unknowns, but they seem to be mainly energy and projectile types, with a couple of small missiles racked together on the underside."

"Proton torpedoes?" Luke suggested, studying the schematic the sensors had drawn for them.

"Seems a bit big for that, but I can't tell for sure," Mara said. "I definitely wouldn't want to go up against one of these things in combat, though, let alone five of them."

"We'll do our best to avoid that," Luke agreed. "Seems odd that they haven't used any of our stuff, though, considering Thrawn's relationship with the Empire."

"You heard Parck," Mara reminded him. "They don't think much of Thrawn out here."

"Yes, but you'd think they'd at least swallow their pride where useful technology is concerned," Luke said. "Most people's principles don't extend that far."

Mara shrugged. "Maybe we've finally found a society of people where they do."

The courier ship the fighter pilot had mentioned, like the fighters themselves, turned out to be something of a surprise. It was bigger than Luke had expected, for one thing, nearly half again as big as the Corellian corvettes that the New Republic routinely used for such tasks. In addition, instead of the corvette's smooth lines, the Chiss ship seemed to be all planes and corners and sharply defined angles, rather like a Mon Calamari star cruiser roughly carved out of stone before the sculptor began smoothing the surface into the proper curves.

"Interesting design," Mara commented as they flew toward it. "It would be great for hiding in asteroid fields."

"It would blend in pretty well, wouldn't it?" Luke said, nodding. "I was just thinking that it wouldn't be easily mistaken for anything else. That's something else you want in a diplomatic ship."

"Maybe," Mara said. "Or maybe the Chiss just like lumpy ships. Does make me wonder what the docking bay's going to be like, though."

Luke winced. Back when he'd first presented the Jade Sabre to Mara, after she'd thanked him for it, she'd made it casually clear what would happen to anyone who so much as scratched the paint. This could be trouble.

Fortunately, it wasn't. The starboard-side docking bay they were escorted to—more of a half port, really, than a full-sized bay—was smooth-walled, without any decorative angles or corners intruding on the approach. It also had maneuvering room to spare, and Mara got the Sabre's nose into position and locked into the clamps on her first try. "We're in," she announced. "Now what?"

"Looks like they're moving a transfer tunnel toward the portside hatch," Luke said, craning his neck to peer out the side of the canopy. "Let's go meet our host."

It took a few minutes for them to shut the ship down to standby and then make their way back to the hatchway. Someone was already waiting there, tapping politely and discreetly on the metal. "Here we go," Luke murmured, and touched the release.

The hatchway slid up to reveal a young Chiss female dressed in an exotically cut jumpsuit composed of shades of yellow. "Welcome to the Diplomatic Vessel Chaf Envoy," she said. Her Basic was far better than the fighter pilot's had been, with only a trace of an exotic accent flavoring the words. "I am Chaf'ees'aklaio, aide to Aristocra Chaf'orm'bintrano. I would be honored if you would call me by my core name, Feesa."

"Thank you," Luke said. "I'm Luke Skywalker—call me Luke. This is Mara Jade Skywalker—Mara—my wife and fellow Jedi."

"Luke; Mara." Feesa repeated the names, bowing low from her waist. "We are honored by your presence. Please; come this way."

She turned and headed down the tunnel. "You speak our language very well," Luke commented as he and Mara fell into step behind her. "Is it common among your people?"

"Not at all," Feesa said. "It was introduced many years ago by the Visitors, but only a few have felt the desire to learn it."

"The Visitors?" Mara asked. "You mean the people aboard Outbound Flight?"

"No; the Visitors," Feesa said. "The ones who came before."

"Before Outbound Flight?" Mara asked, frowning. "Who would have come out here before that?"

"I do not know their names." Feesa half turned to regard Mara over her shoulder. "But it is not my place to speak of such things," she added. "You must not ask me anything more."

"Our apologies," Luke said, sending a warning thought at Mara and sensing in return a flicker of frustration at his tacit suspension of her investigation. Probing for information was one of Mara's specialties.

Ahead, the tunnel came to an end at a wide hatchway opening up into a large room beyond. Feesa stepped through into the room and moved to the side of the hatchway, making room for the other two to enter. Luke stepped through—

His only warning was a flicker in the Force, a brief and unfocused sense of danger. But it was enough. Reflexively, he threw himself forward into a low dive as something whipped through the space he'd just vacated.