Mara and Callista had parted ways after the temple, but Mara couldn't keep her mind off the encounter. In the weeks that had passed since Mara dropped Callista on some Mid-Rim dustball, she'd been distracted. Something had changed in her - she'd found herself constantly thirsty since drinking centuries-old cave water. She would tap out little rhythms on her console for hours, not noticing until Talon Karrde cleared his throat behind her.

Her fragmented thoughts always returned to Callista. When Karrde needed a gentler touch at the helm and had her fly through a nebula the same grey as Callista's eyes. When a contact had her land in the scrub, gently brushing back tangled grasses in shades of blonde and brown. When a shipment of new and exotic fruits came in, their juices dripping down her chin.

Mara'd made a business out of knowing what others wanted. It was disturbing to have to turn that skill on herself.

It was her mandated day off on the ship's roster, so she'd spent most of it holed up in her quarters doing paperwork. The only problem with being part of a functional organization was that even busywork got done on time.

Mara moved to sit on the floor, cradling a cup of grenade-fruit tea in her hands. She could always use her time to meditate.

Breathe in, breathe out. Feel the energy of the hot tea flow into your hands. Feel the energy from your hands move to your lungs. Feel the air from your lungs move into the room. Feel the air in the room curl steam around the cup.

Steam. Breath. Hot breath. The scent of fruity musk. Deep mauve. Callista.

A Jedi lets their thoughts pass through peacefully, mindful only of the present. A Jedi is of the mortal world, but not part of it. A Jedi is with the Force and the Force is one with the Jedi. Mara is no Jedi, but she is with the Force. The Force is with all but one Jedi. Callista.

Meditation only rewarded those open to it.

Mara stood and worked her shoulders. Her tea had gone cold in the time she had tried

She pulled up her console to send a text-only message to Callista's last contact node.

THINKING OF YOU. No. She deleted that. DO YOU WANT TO MEET UP AGAIN? That disappeared off her screen too.

The situation didn't call for undue sentimentality. They were colleagues, who had overlapped at Luke's Praxeum for a matter of weeks. Mara sighed and thumbed out something terse and impersonal.

DID IT WORK?

She shut off her messenger before she could give in to the urge to refresh its feed. It was getting time to pull out of hyperspace, and Mara needed all of her attention at the helm. Karrde could have any of his crew do the job, but something so close to the Imperial Remnant required a pilot with a little more gravitas.

While her eyes were elsewhere, a response came in.

ALMOST. I THINK WE ALMOST HAD IT, TOGETHER.