She wanted to party.

    Her fingers tightened on Cace's arm, and he glanced at her. He looked so exhausted it almost
angered her.
"Want to call it a night?" he asked, and yawned widely.
"Not a chance," she murmured back, but she didn't meet his eyes. Instead, she glared into the
fire, and even the breeze that stirred the ashes into the chilly air made her heart leap with hopeful
excitement.
   "Afraid of what you'll dream?" her husband suggested. Lil found it a strange question. Sure, she'd
said that she'd probably have an incredibly strange dream, after listening to Leia and Han's
story, but that had been assuming she actually got to sleep!
"Nope," she replied, but she knew that he knew what she was thinking.
"You aren't even tired, Lil?"
She responded in the negative, and sighed wistfully.
   "Well, I'm going to pack it in," Cace stated, and yawned again.
"Alright," Lilandra said resignedly, noting with grim disappointment that even Kerryna and
Jiromie were asleep. She'd hoped that at least her own sister and brother-in-law would stay up
with her. Apparently not.
"I guess I'll just have to dream my party. . . "
    She spread out her blanket anyway, and lay on her back, leaning her head against a log and
staring up at the stars. Her mind wandered without cause to the Galaxy Lake, and the strange
and beautiful map that resided beneath it's clear, cold surface. Her husband's ancestors had
created that. As a way of travelling to other planets without hyperspace, or even a ship. Lil still
didn't believe it. Probably never would. . .
    Whether she realized it or not, the sound of Cace's rhythmic breathing, the soft snores coming
from somebody in the little gathering of Jedi, and the imagined lapping of the waves inside the
Lake were slowly lulling her to sleep. Before she knew it, her eyes had closed, her hands were
slumped limply on her stomach, she was nestled deep in the warmth of her blankets, the fire had
died, and the party had begun.

     Lilandra's feet skipped lightly over gravel and sand, a long, flimsy white skirt swished against
her ankles, and a dashing and charming and strangely unfamiliar Cace Lendene twirled her by
her fingers, around and around. She was laughing, she knew, but her laughter was hollow, and it
seemed that only Cace could hear it. A steadily danceable beat sounded in her ears, driving her
heartbeat, and brightening her smile. Cace was smiling too, and his hair hung in his eyes, damp
with energetic sweat. Faceless people danced around them, and somehow Lil knew they were all
smiling. Some were in couples, some were alone, and some were in groups. All of them were
happy.
     Lilandra leaned into Cace's arms, feeling dangerously flirtatious.
I don't need to flirt with you, she was thinking, we're married. We've slept side by side for
almost a year now. Shared a few jokes, and a few tears. Nostalgic nothingness like
that. We're married. I still don't need to flirt with you.
   But he was going along with it. He playfully pinched her waist, making her self-conscious in a
laughable sort of way. Her feet still felt light in their leathery sandals, and her smile still felt
bright. . . but the sky felt dark. Lilandra made herself somehow climb out of Cace's hypnotic
gaze, and turn her eyes to the (smoke) sky.
    "Smoke," she murmured. She looked for the bonfire. The couples on the dancefloor had
formed two lines, one on either side of the floor, with Lilandra and Cace in the middle. Lil looked
sidelong between the rows, expecting to see a cheerful fire leaping to the pink-tinged
sky, expecting to see Jiromie Taggant beating on his handheld drum with both hands, expecting
to see Ilsa playing her little flute, delicate fingers skittering across it's smooth, shiny
surface. Expecting to see all that. . .
 
     And seeing Vernira Palpatine instead.

    A scream wanted to escape her lips, she knew, but when she opened her mouth, nothing came
out. Cace had disappeared, the couples had disappeared, and it was just Lil and Vernira, facing
each other. A thick fog had settled over the once-cheerful scene, blocking off everything but
Vernira's leering face, skin pulled like wrinkled tissue paper over thin, pointed bones. Her mouth
was twisted downwards in a sneer of utter contempt. Her long white hair flew in a wispy mad
cloud about her neck, and her hands were outstretched in a beckon.
    "Come here, Lilandra," she said gently, almost too gently, as if she were a predator coaxing it's
prey with the promise of food, or shelter.
"I could kill you, you know," Lilandra murmured, her voice low and threatening. The words rolled
off her tongue without effort.
"With what, deary? Your fingernails?" Vernira taunted. "Just come. . . I have something to show
you."
     Lilandra's eyes widened. "What can you possibly show me?"
Vernira's frown turned to a cold, cruel smile."Your mother. Your real mother."
Lilandra took a step backwards, and her ankle twisted beneath her as something sliced into her
foot, and left pain so blazingly hot it nearly froze her to death. It felt so incredibly real. . .
   "Go on then," she said through clenched teeth. "Show me. Give me everything you've got."
"You'll have to come here first."
"Fine," Lilandra offered uncertainly. "I'll go."
     She was on her feet, staggering and hopping on one foot, but she reached Vernira much faster
than she'd expected. She was just about to give Vernira the punch that would strike her to the ground, and allow Lilandra to kill her without effort or fuss when her dress snagged beneath her sandal, and she put out her hands to stop her inevitable fall -

     And hit water instead. The pain disappeared, cooled by this water, and stinging only faintly
with salt. Bitter salt. Sea salt.
Lilandra's eyes opened again, and so did her mouth. The bitter salt filled her lungs, and she began
to choke. She realized that rain was falling all around her, thick and heavy, with drops like a
giant's tears. Through the blinding curtain, she could see the shape of her beloved house,
(mama! ), floating foundation rocking violently to and fro on the storm-tossed waves.
    "Mama?" she called, but her voice was lost in the roar. She could hear it perfectly in her
head, reverberating back and back, until it dawned on her that it was not, by all rights, her voice. It
was a young voice, solemnly wise, and wrenchingly terrified. Her suddenly tiny hands clawed for
the surface as another wave washed over her head, and her hair swirled in front of her eyes, fine
and almost baby soft.
   Her head cleared the surface again, and red blaster fire barked in the air
directly above it. Screaming for her mother again, she ducked back beneath the water.
   Where is she? Where is she?!
This was a new voice. It was neither her own tinny child's voice, or Vernira's. This was someone
else's voice. It was young-sounding too, when compared with it's owner's normal deep, confident
tone.
Kerryna, I'm here, Lilandra called, but she didn't know how she called it. In her mind? Maybe. Who's
Kerryna?
    Someone swore soundly, close by her now, and she was compelled to swim, to flee, to do
anything.
    Insatiable relief flooded her when her feet touched sandy shore. She clawed and fought
against the pull of the tide, and the pull of something else - a dark force that threatened to drag her
back and down.
     Let go. . . she thought, and she heard a triumphant whoop. Something grabbed her shirt, and she
was flung face-first onto the sand. Then, the roar of engines filled her ears, deafeningly loud, and a
strong wind whipped her hair and sand into her eyes.
    A darker shadow fell across her back, and silhouetted on the shore in front of her was a woman; tall, with squared shoulders, short, cropped hair, defiantly folded arms, and, in the shadowed oval of her face, brilliant hazel eyes that stared at Lilandra with an intensity that burned her.
    You must be Kerryna. Hi, my name is Lil. . . I'm two and a half years old, and my mama
and papa are dead. I have a sneaky suspicion that you killed them, and I was just
wondering, how did you do it? Did you shoot them? Slice them through with that
lightsaber at your waist? Beat them over the head with metal beams. . . drown them? How
classy. Yes, my name is Lil, and I'm two years old and my parents are dead, and I have a
little hunch. . .
    "So, Kerryna,how did you do it?" she asked, in her own voice. She dragged herself to her
feet, soaking wet, covered with sand, her own height, but still shorter than the woman in front of
her.
"Please. . . enlighten me." The sarcasm in her voice echoed back to ears and made her cringe.
"Alright then," Kerryna intoned emotionlessly. "Prepare to be enlightened."
     The shore began to spin, and Lilandra could see a blur of trees, and fire, and people in white
gowns, and a flash of black hair and white teeth. She fell backwards, and into Cace's arms again.
 
    "Great party, huh?" he asked, and Lilandra blinked, tripping uneasily over her sandals. Her feet
were no longer light, her smile had disappeared, and the people around them had stopped
dancing. The music slowed to an agonizing halt. She glanced around urgently, feeling almost panicked. Then she caught Cace's flashing gaze, glowing with intense excitement, and she grinned again.
"It's fantastic," she said breathlessly, and collapsed in a limp heap at Cace's feet.
    The entire crowd began to applaud, the sharpness of their clapping jarring her awake. She felt her pulse
thudding in her ears, and she heard someone whistle appreciatively. The constant, steady beat of
Jiromie's drum, the spirited notes of Ilsa's flute, combined with a howling of wind, rain suddenly
pounding down around her, and the useless, seemingly pointless applause. . .

     And Lilandra was awake.

    She sat up, panting heavily, and clutching her chest. She looked wildly from side to side, expecting
to see something else, another image conjured up from the dead ashes of the fire, come back to
haunt her -
    And found nothing. It was pitch black, and everyone was asleep, presumably dreaming of
happy things. Above them, the stars winked cheerfully, and the moons spun peacefully away in orbit
around Yavin, and the night creatures howled and chirped, a racket that Lilandra hadn't quite
noticed until now.
   She glanced at the sleeping figure beside her, and remembered the breathless
feeling of elation she'd had as he spun her around and around, and pinched her waist. . . and remembered how after
their marriage had come the playful kisses on her ear, the soothing words when she'd awoke
screaming from a nightmare, the warmth of an unprompted embrace, and the sensation of pride
she got when they walked side by side into a room, and turned heads (now there goes a sweet
couple. . . ).
    Suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude, she fell back on her mattress and flung her arms
around her sleeping husband, pressing her face against his shoulder. And, as if he'd known
somehow that she was there, his arm slipped easily around her back, and held her that way until
she slid back into sleep, and the first rays of sunlight began to penetrate the jungle mist.