Luke thought of Fett's dead daughter, Jacen's guilt, and Fett's track record. He'd been awfully quiet; worryingly so.

"They're rearming," Luke said.

"They said they were staying neutral." Durron said.

Kyle shook his head slowly, brushing specks from his lap in a distracted way. "Oh, yeah, if my long-lost daughter was tortured to death by the GA's secret police, I'd be neutral. First thing I'd do. Walk away and be very, very neutral."

"You don't have to be on one of two sides to rearm, or even take part in a war," Luke said.

Still nobody had said the J-word. But Luke could hear the name at the back of every mind.

"Well, we know a few facts." Kyle counted off on his fingers. "One, Mandalorians aren't exactly heavily represented in social services and the caring professions. Two, they have a brand-new supply of that iron of theirs for their war machine. Three, allying with the Verpine makes them the single most powerful producer of advanced weapons technology. Four, I hear they're still sore about getting no help to rebuild postwar when they went out on a limb for the New Republic."

"It's not good, is it?" said Corran.

"I'm betting they'll step up for Corellia in the next few days."

"Fett's said to have killed Sal-Solo, or at least one of his Mando thugs did. Where does that leave them?"

Luke had heard the real story from Han. Never had he missed the good old clear-cut days of Rebellion versus Empire, good against demonstrable evil, as much as he had right then. The trouble with taking away the certainty of evil was that its vacuum was filled by all kinds of more nebulous threats, rivalries, and feuds. It became increasingly hard to judge where the threat was coming from.

If it hadn't been so ingrained in the nature of most species, Luke would have seen it as a Sith plot. It would have been so much simpler.

"I think we should offer Jedi mediation to both the GA and Corellia, as far as the assassination goes," he said. "I know it sounds bizarre in the middle of a war, but there's war with rules, and then there's war with no holds barred, and we need to—"

The doors opened and Mara walked in. "Sorry I'm late," she said.

"Ran into a few problems."

She managed to stop the meeting dead. Luke stared in horror at her face. She had a black eye and split lip; she was holding herself as if her ribs hurt. She settled into her seat in the circle with slow care.

"Ran into an armored division, more like," said Kyp, staring. "What happened to you, and where shall we send the flowers for the other guy?"

"And this is after a healing trance." She smiled, and it was genuine, but there was definite anxiety. Luke could feel it. It was all he could do not to abandon the meeting there and then, and go to her. How had he not felt what was happening to her?

"Sorry to interrupt," she went on. "I assume we're worrying about the implications of Gejjen's death."

"And Mandalorian rearmament."

"Forget that for just a second," Luke said. "Mara, I need to know what

happened to you."

"Why, darling, thank you for asking! I'm very well. Just a flesh wound." She shook her head in disbelief, but it seemed aimed at herself.

"Look, I caught Lumiya. She's in a worse state than I am, believe me."

"And?"

"The situation's under control."

"Where is she?"

"I'm tracking her to her base."

All eleven Council members were waiting in complete silence for Mara's next words. She looked at the other Jedi around her, gently pushed Luke's unspoken inquiry and concern out of her mind with a firm later, and settled back in her chair. Luke couldn't pin it down, but she was in turmoil under that facade.

"It's no good looking at me like that," she said. "I'm not discussing it, I'm not sharing the mission, and I'm not going to take it easy, which I'll bet is going to be someone's suggestion. Yes?"

"Mara hath spoken," said Kyp. "But that doesn't stop me asking where Lumiya is, and what she's driving."

"Nice try, but go find your own deranged dark sider to play with, because Lumiya's mine."

Corran gave Luke a knowing smile. "She's fine."

Mara was certainly satisfied about something, but not so content about something else. Luke would find out later. He moved the meeting on.

"Can we actually do anything about the Gejjen situation here and now?" There was a chorus of a reluctant "no" around the circle. "Okay, then, all

we can do is keep an eye on the situation, and I've got a request in with Omas's secretary to see him as soon as he gets back."

"You know what happens if heads of state are away when a crisis breaks," Kyp pointed out. "They take a pounding in the polls, and it's the beginning of the end. Let's make the most of Omas while we can."

"Who's friendly with Niathal?"

They all turned to look pointedly at Cilghal. She tilted her head slightly to fix Luke with one eye, always a disconcerting thing in a Mon Calamari. "Just because we're Mon Cals, Luke, it doesn't mean we have guaranteed harmony. We come from different schools of thought."

"You're Ackbar's niece, and I bet that counts for a lot with a Mon Cal admiral . . ."

"I'll do my best, then."

The meeting broke up, Mara remaining seated. Corran patted her on the head like an indulgent uncle as he passed, and then wagged a silent warning finger: Get that black eye seen to. Luke waited until everyone was well out of earshot and then walked over to squat in front of Mara and put his hands on her knees.

"You can't keep this from me."

"I head-butted her, that's all. Metal jaw, nonmetal head."

"If you got that close, how did she get away?" Oh, bad question: Luke braced for an onslaught about shaking hands again. "I mean . . ."

"I think she has a droid with her. Something jumped me from behind, and it wasn't organic." Mara showed him a discolored mark like a rope burn at the front of her neck. "Whatever it is, it can pay out a metal cable. And she has this weird spherical ship like a disembodied orange eye."

"Don't you think all that's a good case for not hunting her alone?"

"She wants me to catch up with her. I'll be extra-ready next time—and there will be a next time."

He'd promised her. If anyone could take Lumiya, Mara could, and he knew he had to put his own fixation with Lumiya out of his mind—stop it from clouding his judgment. He'd give Mara a little more time, but wondered how he'd feel if she came home battered and bruised like this again.

Chasing individual Dark Jedi was far more difficult and time consuming than he'd bargained for. Sometimes he wondered why Lumiya and Alema had proved so much harder to hunt and deal with than a whole Empire, but that was the answer: the Empire, by its very size and pervasiveness, was everywhere. It was hard to avoid finding it, but two Jedi with concealment skills could vanish very effectively in an entire galaxy. It would always be a case of getting them to come to him—or Mara.

"But you'll be home for dinner tonight," Luke said. "Don't spend all night working again."

"Believe me, I'll be home," she said. "That's where I'm heading now."

"I'd better see what Han and Leia have to say about Gejjen, while I hang around the Senate and wait for Omas."

"If I'm still sitting at home with a congealing plate of nerf casserole at midnight . . ."