A/N: ::insert obligatory assurance that this is not abandoned, I'm just the worst::

No, but seriously, sorry. This one just… resists me. Here's to hoping it will get easier once we move past part I here and the kids age a bit. These first chapters are so very depressing, setting the scene, but the intrigue is to come, sooo…

Anywhoose, onwards. We're making a bit of a time jump here, 1 year. I know the Fel children's ages are a bit ambiguous so with the twins clocking in at about 19 months here, I've got Cherith a few months shy of 3, Jag almost 4, and Cem 6. (My Cem is older than Jag even if some sourcebook somewhere says otherwise. Sorry.)

Much love to those of you who have put up with my absurdly long breaks between chapters. And welcome to anyone new along for the ride!

Chapter 5

One year later

Outer Rim – near Ord Trasi – Wild Karrde

"Call coming through from Cor'scant, Cap'n," Aves called over his shoulder. "Mara's recognition code."

That got Karrde's attention in a hurry. Mara had made infrequent contact since a regrettably heated exchange following her revelation that she again perpetrated a foolhardy infiltration of the Chimaera with Skywalker. Given the tone of that conversation, his present activities would seem more than a little hypocritical- surely she already knew though, the timing of the call was too convenient. Wessiri must have tipped her off.

"Mara," he tapped the console and frowned as the static tried to resolve itself into a recognizable image. "To what do we owe the honor?"

"The pleasure of seeing my charming face isn't enough?"

"Alas, we seem to be having some problems on that front. Dankin?" The younger man fiddled with the attunement knobs for a moment, sighed, and shook his head. "We'll have to make due with audio, it seems. Too many unreliable relay points between you and us. Fighting's heating up again."

Her tone was short, impatient. "No matter." He could visualize her standing there in a comm center in the old Imperial Palace, tapping her foot, arms crossed, twitching under the watchful eye of the lieutenant on station. "You're on-schedule to pick up a package soon?"

"We are." That package, as a matter of fact, was in the form of one Luke Skywalker and his X-wing. Mara was indeed deep in Iella Wessiri's confidence.

"Well it's your lucky day then, I've got another present you can take to the drop."

Karrde glanced sidelong at Aves who nodded quickly. "Send it along when ready, we're secure."

The line was mostly silent for a half-minute while she readied and transmitted the data package to be passed along to Skywalker and the Solos. When he confirmed it was uploading at Aves's station, Karrde switched the still-quiet call over to his private comlink and stepped off the bridge. "Mara?"

"Still here."

"Alone?"

Again, he could practically hear her teeth grinding. "If you don't count the station watch eyeing me with unconcealed disdain from halfway across the room, sure."

"Well someone must trust you."

"Not our furry friend," she bit caustically. "Which is fair, as the hostility is quite mutual, but you'll read all about that soon enough."

Fey'lya then. He must have been busy in the couple months Karrde had been out of contact from the civilized galaxy, if he was manipulating matters about the palace again. And he wasn't sure if she'd quite meant it as such, but he was going to take her words as cryptic permission to peruse the file for Skywalker as soon as the call ended. Mara had never been one to be casual about her phrasing.

Not that he wouldn't have done so anyway – surely Wessiri knew what unspoken bargains lay behind his agreement to partake in this enterprise, given his predilection for information gathering – but it was always nice to feel validated.

"…headquarters in two weeks."

"What? Sorry, lost you there." Rather, he'd been lost in thought, but he hardly needed Mara to think he was losing his edge.

"I said I'll be at the Alliance headquarters in two weeks." His brows shot straight up to his hairline. "Will you be heading back that way once you're done with your current… project?"

"We will," he assured her smoothly. "But are you done with yours?"

Her tone darkened. "Read the file, Karrde."

X-X

Nirauan

"Mom!"

Syal didn't look up from where she was prepping lunch for the kids. "Don't shout, Cem, come here. What is it?"

Her third son came skidding to a halt by her side. "There's something wrong with the twins."

How many times a day did that phrase get uttered in the family's quarters? One would start screaming and immediately the other would follow. Or they would start seemingly in tandem for no particular reason. Or Jagged would look at Jaina wrong somehow and she would spend the next hour chasing him around trying to touch him while he yelled at her. "What is it now?"

"They're… quiet. Not moving."

"They're supposed to be napping," she reminded him drily.

He shook his head adamantly though. "They're awake," he stressed. "But…there's something wrong with them," he reiterated in frustration. "Won't you come?"

A trace of concern starting to worm its way into her mind, Syal dropped her knife and wiped her hands, and then followed Cem down the hallway to the twins' room. As she entered, she snapped a command for the nursery droid in the corner to wake up, a rare occurrence anymore now that the twins were more self-sufficient.

For a moment, she thought Cem to be imagining things. Jacen and Jaina were lying beside each other in the same crib – they'd mostly abandoned attempts at getting them to sleep separately months ago when they discovered that placing them together significantly curtailed their nightly fits. They were nearly too big for this arrangement but would have it no other way; they would need to get them a regular bed soon enough.

As she peered down on their unnaturally still forms though, she realized Cem was right. Their eyes were open, identical pairs of light brown orbs staring blankly up at the ceiling. Their chests were rising and falling in tandem, so slow and steady they might have been in the deepest sleep.

"Jacen?" Syal murmured, pressing a hand to their cheeks in turn. "Jaina?" Neither so much as flinched, nor blinked when she passed a hand over their eyes. A flush tinged their cheeks pink, strange for their stillness, the coolness of the room. "En-Bee," she snapped over her shoulder at the droid, "begin-"

"Both children register normal vital signs," the nursery droid informed her in its lulling voice. "There is no indication of illness or injury."

She shook her head though. "Something's wrong," she muttered more to herself than the droid. "I don't know what." Syal scooped Jacen up in her arms and indicated NB-9 do the same for Jaina.

Whether a coincidence of timing or some offense at being moved, being hoisted from the crib and into the droid's synthflesh arms broke the spell for Jaina. She shrieked and twisted in her captor's grasp, her sudden fit spurring Jacen into hysterics as well. She hastily set the toddler on the floor where he screamed and reached for his sister until NB-9 lowered her charge down next to him. They huddled there whimpering, while Syal and Cem stared on in confusion.

They were soon joined by Cherith and Jagged, who poked their heads around the doorway to see what the commotion was. Cherith blinked her big, dark eyes unsurely, but Jagged sighed dramatically. "Oh. They're crying? Again?"

Were she not still so flummoxed by the question of just what had transpired, Syal would have found some amusement in Jaina's predictable reaction. She stopped screaming and narrowed her eyes at Jagged, before clambering unsteadily to her feet and heading towards the older boy. Jagged's brow furrowed and he walked out of the doorway.

"No, Jaina. No. Jaina, stop it! Mom….!"

Syal sighed and rubbed wearily at her brow, listening to Jagged's fading yells and watching as Cherith settled herself on the floor next to Jacen in Jaina's abandoned spot in a fruitless effort to reassure the younger boy.

X-X

Outer Rim – Ord Trasi

It was a fairly typical tapcaf, as tapcafs went across the galaxy. Dimly lit, scratched and stained tables sitting in partially concealed alcoves, music that was just loud enough to easily mask conversation one did not wish to be overheard.

It was the sort of place the occupants of the table in the far corner from the main entrance would have felt quite at home, were it not currently firmly in Imperial hands. Such as it was, so long as they avoided the heavily guarded areas that managed materiel to be transported to the orbital shipyards, Han, Leia, and Lando weren't overly concerned about their presence being noticed in the slightest. They'd kept a reasonably low profile on the galactic scene in recent months.

When the fourth and fifth members of their party arrived and all had acquired drinks that none of them dared imbibe, Han smiled grimly across the table. The emotional toll of the past year showed in the added lines on his face, the strain behind his eyes. Leia, conversely, just looked numb, checked-out. "You look like you were about as successful as we were."

Luke grimaced. "It was a long shot. Mostly just chasing the same rumors in circles and… well, you know what the Lugubraa are like."

"There might have once been contact on Stratos with Thrawn's species," Talon Karrde put in from beside Luke. "Any true facts of such an encounter have been lost to their general dysfunction."

"Well," Han sighed, rubbing at his temples. "There's a good two months wasted then." A belated thought occurred to him, and he glanced at the smuggling chief. "We do appreciate you coming out here though, Karrde."

"Least I could do; bureaucracy was getting stuffy."

"Still not used to being respectable?"

"Are you?" Karrde shot back.

Luke held up a hand and interrupted the banter. "Speaking of bureaucracy, unfortunately- Han, Leia, have you been getting any news from Coruscant?"

Leia's brows rose curiously. "Real news, no. We make out what we can from the Imperial propagandist versions."

"Seems Fey'lya's back to some of his old tricks already," Karrde informed them drily. "The Empire is regaining a bit of strength day by day; Mon Mothma's hold on things is slipping." He crossed his arms and sat back, looking between them. "Fortunately I suppose, the military isn't yet close to forgiving the furball for that stunt he pulled with the Katana Fleet, and as long as bel Iblis and Ackbar stand behind Mon Mothma…"

"Hm." Leia went silent again, considering the information.

A mild hesitation tinged Karrde's countenance, and he sighed softly before continuing. "There's something else. Mara's been in touch. She's… coming back to my organization."

It had been a year. To expect her tireless forays into the old Imperial Archives, or what remained intact of them after the repossession of Coruscant from Ysanne Isard, to yield meaningful results at this point was beyond practical. But Han couldn't help feel the sharp jab of disappointment to know that she had abandoned the pursuit. "Well," he tried to keep any bitterness from his tone, "that's only fair. Certainly couldn't expect her to devote as long as she has to working with NRI…"

An awkward silence descended on the table. Luke and Karrde exchanged a terse glance, which Han picked up on all too easy. It took him another few seconds to make the leap, and then his face settled into a stony mask. "They've told Iella to close up shop."

"I'm sorry, Solo, Princess," Karrde inclined his head to them in turn. "She's been putting them off for some time now, it seems, but Fey'lya's applying pressure in that especial way of his."

"Fifteen months and no meaningful results to show for it," Leia muttered softly, gaze fixed down on the tabletop. "The Empire resurging, and a huge contingent of Intelligence with one of their best analysts tied up on this? That order was coming soon enough, with or without Borsk's interference."

"The Council owes you a lot more than that," Han snapped down at her. He paused then and sighed, ran a hand over his face. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

But Leia barely seemed to register his harsh tone, or his subsequent apology. Whether she was completely tuned out, or simply had her mind elsewhere was unclear to any of her companions.

After a lengthy pause stretched on for a minute while everyone pretended to sip their drinks and look casually around the room, Karrde cleared his throat unsurely. "My crew will be heading back to HQ, I need to check in and meet Mara. I'm sorry we weren't of more help…"

"No," Han waved him off, forcing a smile. "We appreciate it, really. Anyway, I think we're all heading Core-ward for now. Regroup, figure out what's happening on the political scene, and with the Empire…" Leia glanced up once at that but said nothing.

Lando nodded and stood, hand resting casually on his blaster under his cape as he checked for anything or anyone that might raise his suspicions. "Let's get back to the Lady Luck then," he offered a hand to Leia, who blankly took it without seeming to register whose it was, "before Chewbacca's anxiety gets taken out on Threepio."

"Maybe we could stay a bit longer, if that's what it takes to get rid of Goldenrod," Han put in softly, but moving towards the door nonetheless. He felt bad leaving him behind, but a wookiee in Imperial space upped their potential to be recognized exponentially.

Lando dropped Han, Leia, Chewie, and Threepio at a docking bay on the other side of the planet, where they spent an hour staking out the Falcon's berth before deciding that it looked clear of any suspicious activity. Three hours later, they were safely entering hyperspace, and Han left Chewie in charge in the cockpit and went in search of his increasingly despondent wife.

"Hey." He found her pouring over the datachip Karrde had passed along, sitting up in one of the bunks and looking more alert than he had seen her in a long time. "Alright?"

"Hm," she murmured noncommittally and tapped twice at her screen.

Suppressing a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair and leaned against the cool bulkhead. "Look, I was thinking… if we pull the right strings, we could probably buy a few more months before they completely shut Iella's operation down. We'll just keep a few of the best people on it, like Byhyrt and Aailun, and that funny little devaronian, what's her name-?"

"Han," she cut him off abruptly.

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to stay on Coruscant."

"Oh," he straightened, taken aback. "Yeah, okay. No, that'll be good, take some time to rest, pick up Mara's work in the archives…"

"No, Han," she turned off the datapad and closed her eyes, leaning her head back with a thunk on the wall. "I mean- I just can't. I can't do it anymore. And if Mara of all people can make no headway with information about Thrawn, no one in the New Republic will. The galaxy isn't standing still while we continue to chase shadows."

He fought very hard to keep his voice steady, to keep from becoming angry, from lashing out at her. "Those shadows we're chasing are our children. They need you."

"No, they don't. They wouldn't know us if we passed them in the street. If they're even…"

She trailed off, but Han heard anyway. "If they're what, Leia?" he demanded, voice rising. "Alive? You're the one with the Force, you tell me if they're alive!"

His stomach twisted, heart pounding, blood rushing in his ears as she took entirely too long to answer him. "I think so. I don't know. There's a hole in my heart, Han, but it's lost all form, it just is. A constant, fiery ache that consumes me with every day we spend talking about supposed leads that will never bear any meaningful results. I can't keep living like this, steeped in that heartache every second of every day. The galaxy needs me," she gestured listlessly at the datapad on her lap. "The Council needs me."

"Your children need you," he protested once more, voice barely more than a whisper.

Her own tone was softer still, barely audible over the whir of the ship. "What children?"

X-X

Nirauan

Syal filled Soontir in on the twins' strange behavior, their brief catatonic fit, after dinner that evening. He listened curiously, concernedly, and then asked whether she had taken them to the infirmary afterwards.

She shrugged dully. "It's never helped before. If En-Bee couldn't decipher anything wrong with them while they were just lying there, the medics in the infirmary hardly would have found a problem after they'd gotten over… whatever that was."

The twins had been suspiciously well-behaved through dinner, and even lodged only minimal complaints come bedtime. Syal steeled herself for the undoubtedly restless night that always seemed to follow a smooth evening routine.

But for the first time in the fifteen months during which the twins had been living with the Fels, both twins slept peacefully through the entire night. Syal even verified with NB-9, come morning, that she had not been activated during the night by a cry that Syal and Soontir had failed to acknowledge. And from that night forth, their temperaments changed drastically.

Being the toddlers they were, little more than a year and a half of age, they certainly had their share of fits. And being twins, they remained uncannily attuned to one another's moods. But no more did they dissolve into inconsolable, inexplicable episodes with the potential to last hours on end.

The Fel household gradually regained the sense of order that had been upended when the babies had suddenly arrived in their lives. And as the twins grew and developed, began to interact more with Cherith and Jagged, when he deigned to play with them, the line between wards and children grew gradually fuzzier in everyone's minds.

End Part I