Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I'm not making a cent off of them, and I'm poor, so please don't sue. All hail the great Star Wars gods George Lucas and Timothy Zahn. None of this would be possible without them.

The rating for this story...well, who the hell am I to tell you what is acceptable or not? Why subjugate my story to an arbitrary system that merely spoils the surprise of whether or not the characters have sex or get killed? So I am forced to give this piece an R rating ... for now. That may change, it may not. Read and see.

Author's Note: This is a first attempt at a fan fiction, so make it memorable. Review my story! Tell me what you honestly think. While flames may not be the most constructive of criticisms, I can take it.

Summary: A ship from Talon Karrde's fleet has been hijacked and all crew and cargo has disappeared except for an artifact with ancient Jedi markings on it. Mara Jade and Luke Skywalker team up to investigate a drug lord's rim world fortress. This simple hijacking turns into a race to save the future of the Jedi and fans the sparks already flying between our two heros. This is a slightly Alternate Universe where everything up through Children of the Jedi is cannon, more or less. Everything after that is free game to warp and twist at my pleasure.

Ensign Glamis stumbled as the small freighter lurched under the onslaught of laser fire, his heart pounded in his ears louder than the blasts pounded against the hull. Images of his mother smiling proudly at the space station on Muldovie VII as she bade him farewell flitted through his brain, but he pushed those thoughts away. He fought down the urge to panic and kept a steady but rapid pace toward the escape pods.

He had no idea where the other ship had come from. Suddenly, the Nocturnal Prowler had been pulled from hyperspace into the awaiting jaws of a strike-class star destroyer. Only three months into his job, it had been the first enemy he had come in close proximity to. He had not had much time to think about it, because the captain had hurriedly pulled him aside and shoved a package in his hands with strict orders to see that it got to Yavin IV.

Now Glamis ran helter-skelter down the narrow corridors toward the escape pods. He passed several officers from the small crew. No one paid the young man any attention as they were set about their tasks of getting out of this scrape alive.

The lights dimmed briefly and except for a few clunking noises, all was silent. Glamis may have been inexperienced, but he surmised that his ship was about to be boarded. He felt no joy when he was proven right by a blaster bolt through his shoulder. The burning pain threw him to the floor, but pure adrenaline powered by fear picked him back up and he ran as fast as he could down the corridor. Behind him, armed men poured through the small doorway shooting anything that moved in their path.

He came to a closed blast door and frantically punched in his clearance code to open it. He hadn't even entered the second number when another blaster shot tore into his side. He was bleeding profusely now, and fell to the floor leaving a streak of crimson on the control panel. The invaders reached him seconds later and commenced kicking and beating him until his world turned black.

Through the smoke and blaster charred bodies, two storm troopers escorted Captain Solaire to his private communications room. Solaire did not put up a struggle. He knew that he would not have gotten very far unarmed against a couple of storm troopers with blasters. But he tried to maintain an appropriate level of dignity and disdain for the morale of his officers who still remained among the living. The troopers shoved him unceremoniously into the room and locked the door.

Solaire straightened to his full height, and the troopers retreated to stand guard at the door. In the corner, he noticed an Imperial officer eyeing him warily. Waiting on the communications console, stood a miniature figure dressed in the Imperial uniform of a vice admiral.

"Has the package been delivered?" Vice Admiral Pellaeon inquired.

"Yes, sir," Solaire replied respectfully. "One of my men has been allowed to escape in one of the escape pods, though he was badly wounded and I fear he will not make it to Yavin IV."

"Excellent. The ensign is of no consequence to me. Skywalker will follow the clues I have left for him. You have done well, Captain."

"Yes, well, I expect to be greatly compensated for my part in this little game. Karrde will have my head when he discovers what I have done to his shipment."

"Of course." The vice admiral nodded slightly, and belatedly Solaire realized it was aimed toward the officer in the corner. He had only made a half turn toward his assailant when a blaster bolt burned a hole through his chest. The impact slammed him against the console before gravity took him to the deckplating. "Consider the bill paid. Lieutenant!"

The officer stood at attention. "Yes, sir!"

"Prepare the ship for the jump to lightspeed. I will transmit the coordinates."

"Yes, sir," the lieutenant responded crisply and hurried out the door to navigation.

Slowly, the world came crashing back on Glamis with painful reality. He groaned as he tried to open his eyes. Suddenly, he jolted awake. In front of him, he could see the Prowler and her attacker. He realized that he was in a small shuttle, but he had no idea how he got there. Before he could digest that one, the two ships jumped into hyperspace.

Something dug into his side. Feeling gently around that side of his body, he discovered the package the captain had given him. Slowly, he recalled his mission to deliver the package to Yavin IV.

Glamis reached for the navcomputer and suddenly spasmed as the movement caused thousands of knives to slash through his stomach and rib cage. His wounds had not completely cauterized, and from the beating he had received before blacking out, he surmised that he probably also had some internal bleeding. He knew he would not make it to the Jedi Academy without medical attention.

Grimacing, he checked the star charts and chose a course that would take him to one of Karrde's contacts on Abregado-rae. He had done a couple of jobs for the smuggler in years past, and though Karrde did not operate entirely on the right side of the law, Glamis knew that he had had past dealings with the Jedi master and could usually be trusted. Karrde would be able to contact Skywalker and deliver the package.

Before pulling back on the hyperdrive levers, Glamis sent out a wide-banned distress signal in hopes that the authorities would be able to find his crewmates. Then he once again succumbed to the blissful nothingness of unconsciousness.

Talon Karrde looked up from his datapad as Mara Jade breezed through the doorway into his temporary office without bothering to knock. She favored him with a friendly smile, a rarity from the Master Trader, as she plopped into a cushioned chair across from his desk and crossed her finely shaped legs. Well, she's in an awfully cheerful mood, he noted regarding her glittering green eyes and smug grin.

"Hello, Mara," he greeted. "I'm glad you could make it."

"Well, I happened to be on my way here anyway," she replied breezily and glanced around the office. Karrde's eyebrows rose slightly in curiosity, but she ignored the questioning gaze he aimed at her. "Nice setup you've got here." Karrde's office was sparsely decorated with only a few cherished pieces of artwork he had picked up along his travels. All were easily removable for the next time he decided to pack up and depart for his next secret location. "Not exactly lying low these days, are you? You're losing your touch, Karrde. I found you in under two days this time."

He shrugged off the light admonition. "Okay, so give. What have you been up to? You look like the Torgorian who ate the Mynock."

Mara feigned innocence for a few seconds, but was unable to control the grin that spread across her face. "Well, you know that little dip in profits you were experiencing last month?"

Karrde nodded quizzically as she rose from the chair and strode into the outer office. A few seconds lapsed, then suddenly a middle-aged man was nearly hurtled through the doorway with a sharp yelp. The prisoner managed to regain his balance and walked with a significant limp over to one of the other chairs. His eyes refused to meet Karrde's astonished expression, and he gingerly sat down in dejection. Mara reentered, the smug smile from before replaced with a stern, all-business look, although her eyes still glittered brightly. Karrde gaped at the man in the chair, his former associate.

"What is going on here?" he demanded, anger and betrayal seething through his clenched teeth.

"Korban here has been making a few extra credits on the side," Mara explained. "Seems he's been skimming the till, so to speak."

"What?!" While he was generally considered ruthless when it came to smuggling and profits, Karrde had always thought himself more than generous with his associates' salaries. The idea that one of them would take advantage of his generosity made his blood boil. "How much?"

The prisoner visibly winced when he heard the barely subdued wrath behind Karrde's words. Seeing that Korban was going to continue his silence, Mara proceeded with the charges. "Sixty thousand." Karrde's jaw dropped at the exorbitant amount.

"Why would you do this, Korban?" he demanded. "I've always given you more than fair salary for hauling cargo."

Some of the steel returned to the wounded smuggler as he stared coldly first at Mara, then at Karrde. "Well, maybe I'm tired of just haulin' cargo for big shots like you!" he spat. "I could run this ramshackle organization a helluva lot better 'n you anyway." Suddenly he sprang up from the chair and bolted for the open doorway in a desperate last attempt at freedom. But Mara had sensed him twitching long before he tried his getaway. Before the man had taken more than three steps, Mara had drawn her blaster in one smooth motion, aimed and squeezed the trigger.

The ringing in Karrde's ears was soon replaced by the wailing moans of the man crumpled on the floor halfway to the door. He rocked back and forth cradling his foot where the red bolt of energy had pierced through his boot and into his flesh.

"Mara!" Karrde exclaimed, rising from his chair. Sometimes his short-tempered associate took things one step too far.

"What?" she replied, exasperated. "It was on a low setting."

"You could've just stunned him."

"Nah, what fun is that?" She bent down and half-dragged Korban back into the outer office.

Karrde's aide stood aside with a slightly amused grin as he had witnessed the entire fiasco through the open doorway. "Nice shot," he whispered to Mara.

Mara merely snorted and deposited her load on the floor. "Go find someplace to stash him until Karrde decides what to do with him," she ordered.

The aide flicked a glance to Karrde who nodded an affirmative and sank back into his chair with his head in his hands. He began to rub away the headache that was forming at his temples. Mara's jumpsuit rustled slightly as she strode into the office once more and closed the door. "So what else did you do the man?" he asked warily.

"Oh, nothing, sprained his shoulder, broke his leg, shot him in the foot," Mara shrugged innocently and reholstered her blaster.

"All for trying to rip me off?" he stared at her incredulously.

"No. He thought we'd make a cute couple. I disagreed." She paused as Karrde unsuccessfully tried to smother a laugh. Knowing Korban, he had probably pushed his advances one step too far, and the result was the crumpled mess that had just been carried out of here. "One more bacta session and he'll be as good as new," she continued waving her hand dismissively. "So, anyway, why did you summon me?"

Karrde spread his hands flat on the desk and leaned forward conspiratorially. It wasn't really necessary as the walls were sound proof, but old habits die hard. "We've got more serious problems than skimming smugglers. Last week, we received a distress call from one of our shipping transports. Apparently, the ship and all her crew were hijacked by an Imperial Strike-class cruiser." Mara's eyes narrowed dangerously. "We don't know exactly who was behind it, but we've ruled out pirates as the hits seemed to be more precise than a random pirate assault."

"What was the cargo?"

"That's the baffling part. It was carrying a cargo of ancient artwork and artifacts from a couple of archeological collections that have been put up for sale. Priceless in their own right, but difficult to resell. The pieces are one of a kind and, therefore, easily traceable."

"Not very lucrative from a business angle. There aren't many art collectors who go for the stolen merchandise market. Takes all the fun out of showing off your collection," Mara added pensively chewing on her lower lip.

"There's more," he added. "Three days ago one of the crewmen turned up on Abregado-rae with an artifact that bore what looked like ancient Jedi markings on it."

Mara looked up sharply. "What does he have to say about it?"

"Nothing. He managed to stay alive long enough to exit hyperspace in-system, but by the time we got to him, he was dead. Looks like he had taken quite a beating, too."

"I guess that rules him out as being behind the hijacking."

"The Jedi markings are the only thing I can think of that would make them valuable enough for someone to steal," Karrde mused.

"Do you have any other suspects?"

"There was a guy snooping around here a few months back when the sale first became public. He adamantly wanted the pieces, but I had already made a deal with someone else. I wasn't very keen on the idea of doing business with the likes of him anyway. There is no concrete evidence of course, but rumor from the Outer Rim has it that he has a fortress on a planet in the Adega system and is a big trafficker of spice, not the soft kind either. This stuff could kill a Wookiee if improperly administered. Also, my sources say he dabbles in the flesh trade off and on."

"So you want me to go check it out for you." It was a statement more than a question. She steepled her fingers in what he often characterized as Mara's pensive pose and began performing mental calculations for the mission.

"I would appreciate it, but -" Karrde broke off suddenly. This was going to be tricky. He braced himself for the onslaught of scathing remarks that he was sure he'd receive after this. He just hoped words would be all that she threw at him.

" 'But' what?" Mara prompted suspiciously.

He took a deep breath and continued. "I don't want you to go alone. It's too dangerous." He threw her a stern, almost fatherly look at her as she began to angrily puff out, preparing to wage war with anyone who questioned her abilities.

"I can take care of myself," she seethed in a low voice. Her eyes became hard, dark and ominous. He grimaced as her nails constricted on the soft wood of the desk leaving four shallow gouges. Angering Mara was never a good idea.

"I know," Karrde tried to appease her, "You have more than proven that over the years. But only one crewman of the hijacked ship ever came back, and he died shortly after. Most likely they've all been killed. And you should know better than anyone that whenever anything Jedi is involved, the risk of the mission more than triples. I don't want you going in there without someone watching your back." He bravely reached across the desk to place his hand atop hers in what he hoped was a peaceful gesture. She violently jerked away and regarded him stonily. He sighed and wondered briefly if she contained any softness whatsoever behind that hard head of hers. "You are my best associate, Mara, and a good friend. I just don't want to lose you."

She looked away without a word. That was a good sign. He bit back a smile. A frustrated sigh escaped her before she responded. "Well, it is a long trip out to Adega," she conceded. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to have some company on the trip. So who do you have in mind?"

"Well, that's another problem," Karrde said hesitantly. "You see, I don't really have anyone to spare at the moment."

"Then why did you bring it up in the first place?" Mara nearly shouted.

He wondered briefly if a desk would be adequate protection against a Mara storm. "I also thought that maybe having a Jedi along would increase our chances of discovering any deceptions in our dear Guru."

Mara's eyes widened as she caught his meaning. Emphatically shaking her head, she replied, "Oh, no. No. Uh-uh. No way. Forget it!"

"I thought you'd become friends with Skywalker since the ordeal with the Solos on Corellia. I'm sure he'd help out if you asked him -- nicely. In fact, since this does concern the Jedi, he would probably jump at the opportunity."

"No, you don't understand. He's in no shape to go on an undercover mission. He's receded back into that black abyss he calls a brain. Again. Last I heard, he was moping around Yavin IV like some lovesick puppy, being all black and gloomy and generally annoying all the students. And all over some selfish, body-snatching twit of a woman who was supposed to have died decades ago. It's been nearly six years for Force sake!"

Karrde stared at her in disbelief and a bit of amusement. Mara was generally a woman of little words. To hear her rant at such length about anything was surprising to say the least. He eyed her slyly. "So how long have you been keeping tabs on Skywalker, anyway?" That earned him an icy glare. Wrong thing to say, Karrde.

"I'm not keeping tabs on him. I--," she paused for a split second, "-have my sources."

"Well, maybe this mission will help take his mind off of whatever, or whoever, is bothering him," he offered. "Even a distracted Jedi is better than no Jedi at all."

Mara only humphed in reply. A full minute of silence ensued as she seemed to be waging an internal battle. Finally, she muttered what Karrde thought to be a curse and rose determinedly from her seat. "All right, I'll go warm up Jade's Fire and set course for Yavin IV." She pivoted and stomped toward the door. "But I will not be responsible if he doesn't survive the flight," she called over her shoulder.

Karrde erupted in a short burst of laughter as he remembered the state Korban had been brought out in. What have I gotten the poor kid into? Then turning serious, he called back, "Mara, be careful!"