Mara glanced up from the cup of elba she’d been holding in a death grip.

Luke stood in the doorway, robe hanging off his shoulders. His white sleep clothes made him look less imposing but also reminded Mara of just how good he had looked in an undertunic on Myrkr

He hesitated at her baleful expression but didn’t let her continued silence deter him. He entered his office, and sat down in the chair next to hers rather than circling around to his desk.

“I thought when I sensed your emotions that it was a…” he paused, clearly choosing his words carefully, “more the sort of danger that meant everyone needed to evacuate,  instead of something more personal.”

“So you sounded the alarm.”

“Yeah. and then I had to come up with some sort of explanation…”

“I embarrassed you.”

“I embarrassed me, Mara.” He sighed, “I’ve been doing that a lot lately. I’m not really feeling much like a confident Jedi these days.”

“Great,” she muttered, “Karrde sent me here because he thought a confident Jedi could help  me with my mess. Now what’ll I do?”

Luke’s gaze dropped to the floor, his shoulders drooping. He seemed  to fold in on himself.

Mara grimaced and set her mug on the small table between them: “Okay, not funny then.”

He glanced up at her, clearly trying to read her gaze from under the hair that was now falling into his eyes.

“You were trying to be funny?”

“I’m not my best self right now, Skywalker.”

“Neither am I.”

“Great."

“The whole galaxy knows what’s wrong with me. What’s up with you?”

“They don’t." She picked up her mug again and tried to let the warmth soak into her, "they really don’t. No one who didn’t sense you had any idea.”

“You sensed it?”

She nodded: “You and Kyle took a dip at the same time. I was with him. I sensed you.”

“I wish you hadn’t.”

“Why is that? You want to be some all-powerful master?”

He snorted ruefully.

“No, but I didn't particularly want to lose your respect.”

“Skywalker, I served a Sith Master for my entire childhood. Do you think slipping for a little while would be enough to lose my respect?”

“I wasn’t sure. Master Yoda said ‘if once you start down that dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny’.”

"And he never did anything wrong?"

He smiled. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“You are?”

“I meant it when I said it earlier.”

Mara took a deep breath, “I don’t think I’m in any state to train to become a Jedi.”

He looked at her for a moment.

“Let’s go for a walk.”

When Nora tries the door to the old house, she finds it unlocked. There’s something about this place that drew her in, she can’t exactly point out one specific thing, though. Sitting in a gravel driveway long washed out is a truck. It’s ancient for a truck, probably at least 50 years old, but it looks pristine, its turquoise and white body unrusted and clean as the day it was bought. 

The house, however… One of the shutters has lost a hinge, another lays on the ground. Kudzu and ivy have overtaken the eastern side of the house, consuming it. The porch is precarious, and each board’s squeak makes her terrified she’ll fall right through. There’s lots of skittering and scratching sounds. Probably a possum or rats under the porch, she guesses. A ragged old cat missing both an eye and half its tail sits on the old glass table, which has grown a thin layer of algae from moisture. The cushions on the chairs look faded and moldy. Odd yellow mushrooms sprout from the gap where the porch meets the house. The smell of rotting wood wafts through the air. The grass growing on the lawn is waist-high.

“Hello?” Her voice trembles when she speaks, and she peeks through the door. “Anyone… home?” It feels like a dumb question, but…

She hears something move behind her, and she spins around to face it, bug-eyed. Nothing. This place is really getting to her, she should… go.

Despite her better instincts, she turns back to the door. Immediately, she jumps back and shrieks when she sees a man at the door. Or, well, she sees his chest. She has to crane her neck a little to see his face. It’s stern, etched with wrinkles from age. He looks grumpy, like he’s not fond of visitors. A good portion of his face, a little more than half, is one large burn scar, and on that side, his eye is in a permanent squint. His mouth and cheek are damaged, eaten away and pulled back by contracture. His ear is barely visible.

“What do you want?”

Nora shrugs. “Just wanted to see if anyone lives here. I moved in down the road a spell. Noticed your house was in dire straits.” Anxiety is clawing at her insides. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“No. Go away.”

“But–” 

“I said no.”

“Sir– Please, let me help you. I’ll– I’ll mow your lawn, I’ll help you clean this place up, Just, something. This has to be miserable.” Nora notices that something in his face changes, softens. Instead of looking bothered, he looks sad. She frowns, looking up at him with sympathy. When he sees that look, he turns cross again.

“Don’t give me that. I don’t need your pity.” 

“Oh, jeez, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to be rude.” He rolls his eyes, and steps aside, letting her in. 

“What’s your name?” She asks.

“You may call me Doctor Eberhardt.”

“Alright, Dr. Eberhardt. If it’s not too personal, doctor of what?”

“Neurosurgery, radiation oncology, nuclear physics.”

“Wow, I’m impressed. You still practice?”

“Nope, I’m retired. Decided I needed a break.”

Nora notices a photo on the wall of a young sailor, but… He doesn’t look like Judson. Everything about Judson is odd, from the injuries, to the very long and intensive education history, to the fact that there’s a medal in a case that, given her research, is for fighting in World War II, and yet, he looks to be no more than 60. She decides not to question it. She doesn’t think she’s entitled to that kind of information. Maybe it was his father? All she can do is guess. She wants to find out more, but that feels like an invasion of Judson’s privacy. Still, the urge to be nosey is strong.

Judson notices her smartphone. “What’s that?”

“Oh, uh this?” She pulls the device out of her pocket. The case is black, patterned with gold stars and a big crescent moon on the back. “It’s a phone.”

“A… That’s a phone? No, this is a phone.” Judson holds up the beige landline phone sitting on his cluttered side table. “That’s not…”

“No, it is. Want me to show you how it works?”

“What the hell, sure. Show it to me. You can make phone calls with it?”

“You can make phone calls, browse the Internet, play games, read books, listen to music, order stuff, pretty much anything you want.”

“Browse the internet? With that? How do you hook up the modem?” Nora has to hold in a laugh.

“You don’t, it pings off of cell towers.” Judson can kind of understand that.

“Is it like a radio tower?”

“Yeah! Kinda! I’ll show you how to order a pizza.”

“Hey, this pizza’s pretty good. I haven’t had pizza since… Lordy, when did I last eat it? I think it was at my retirement party in 1980.”

Nora has to resist the urge to spit out her drink. “I’m sorry. Nineteen fucking eighty? How old are you? You barely look 60.”

“Uhhh, about that…” Nora can see him searching his mind for an excuse, a lie, something, it’s written on his face. He’s desperate for anything but the truth. What that truth is, she has no clue, but… She has a few guesses. 

“Hey, it’s… it’s okay. I know I put you on the spot. You don’t have to say anything, if you don’t want to. Would I be thrilled if I knew what’s going on with you? Yeah, absolutely. I just don’t want you to spill something you’re not ready to.”

“Appreciate it,” he says. He’s quiet, and he avoids her gaze, shrinking under it like a scared animal.

“Dr. Eberhardt…” He doesn’t say anything, but he looks at her with glassy eyes. It’s then that she notices how absurdly bright blue they are. It’s unnatural, they’re glowing. Her appetite is gone, and instead the mysteries are eating at her. His expression shifts from scared, to angry, then scared again. It’s like he can’t decide which one to be. “Are you okay?”

“No. Not really.” The blood has drained from his face, he looks ashen. “Forget… Forget I said anything.”