Prologue

Twilight had settled over a small, dusty world in the Outer Rim. Dust rose in the wind, choking those who waited on the grubby spaceport, but the faint tang of fear which hung in the air could not be blown away. Anybody unlucky enough to have to wait here for their ship sat as far apart from each other as possible, heads lowered, walking quickly when they had to move.

In a corner of the tiny docking bay, a little bundle of rags stirred, and a small hand waved from under a rough blanket. Wide eyes blinked up at the moon, a tiny nose sneezed at the dust; it was a baby wrapped in some old clothing. The baby made a soft, fretful sound, trying to peer around herself. Next to the infant sat a small, squat form in a hooded robe. At the noise from the child, the figure stirred and bent to touch the soft cheek with a gentle finger.

"Coming, they are," the hooded figure said in a soft voice to the baby. "Patient, we must be." He turned his gaze to the stars; one of the sparkling dots seemed to have been detached from the heavens, and was soaring lazily towards them. A few moments later, the roar of sublight engines could be heard, and the shape of a large and bulky freighter became discernible. Stooping, the cloak-swathed shape scooped up the baby and stood waiting.

The freighter was maneuvered expertly onto the landing platform; the other waiting passengers stirred and began to gather their belongings, avoiding each other's eyes. Unnoticed by any of them, the small figure carrying the baby walked slowly through their midst and stood waiting in the dark shadow thrown by the ship's belly. The ramp lowered with a hiss of pneumatic pressure. Dark shapes began to descend from the ship's hold, most with bundles thrown over their shoulders and the bewildered expressions of those who had been cast from all they knew and loved.

Three of these people walked behind the ramp into the darkness of the ship's shade. The four shadows, three tall and one small, came together with whispered greetings.

The tallest peered at the bundle the small one held and said in a rough whisper, "This is her? —The orphan?"

"She, it is."

The shortest of the tall people came forward, knelt to take the child. "She's beautiful," she said in a melodic voice with an accent that marked her as not quite human. "I always wished . . ." Her words vanished as she consigned her wish to the dust of memory.

The last figure, the one who had not yet spoke, knelt by the woman's side in a swift, graceful movement. Brilliant eyes glanced over the child, with a following flicker of thought for those with minds to see. He looked over at the small, bent figure. "Her mind . . ." He smiled. "What a mind, and so young. We will take her—"

"—As we would have even if she had been as any other child—" the woman interjected with a glimmering smile at the bundle in her arms.

"—Train her—"

"Ah yes," the small one said, and the light from a passing speeder illuminated a satisfied smile on the wizened face. "Good, that is. Train her, you must, for strong she must be to face what lies ahead of her."

At this sobering reminder of the realities of their new lives, all three fell silent for a moment. Then the tall male said quietly, "Who are her parents?"

The small one shook his head solemnly, but answered no further. A probing thought from the kneeling man was blocked with effortless ease.

"We are, now," the woman said.

"But does she have a name?" the tall, standing figure persisted.

The small one bent to look at the baby, who had tired quickly and was now asleep in the woman's protective embrace, a tuft of golden hair escaping from her wrappings. "Leidán, her name is," he said.

Moments later, the ship's shadow was deserted. Three more passengers settled into their seats in the freighter's hold, two males; the other a female holding a sleeping baby lovingly, singing a soft lullaby as the freighter roared back into space.

And outside of the spaceport, a small figure hobbled down the street, muffled against the strengthening wind in a hooded robe.