Beyond - Legends "The Shadow of Fate" (SJRS Challenge: Episode VII) Complete! 29 August

Thanks, gal, and thanks for your help There would have to be some kind of underground tourist trade on Tatooine given the level of Luke's fame - and Camie and Fixer would be the first to make some credits about it. The scene with Luke and Ben was actually my favourite bit to write so far.

Thanks! I love that epigraph from ROTS so was more than happy to repurpose it

If only! Thanks muchly.

I think if she wasn't warming up to him, she'd have already killed him, Karrde be damned! Domhnall Gleeson has a rather fetching beard, so I gave Ben one too

Thank you! The meaning of the title finally emerges and everything in Luke's visions foreshadows later events, but maybe not in obvious ways (hopefully at least!)

Aw, thanks! I've been trying to incorporate the rumors in some way (except the stormtrooper helmets, because I couldn't care less about their design ) Skellig Michael sounds like a beautiful location so of course I needed to use it.

Thank you! Luke is pretty sassy to her in TTT as well, and I love writing sassy!Luke. Domhnall Glesson is adorable and I like his ginger beard - if he's not Ben Skywalker (or at least Luke's son) in the movies it's a lost opportunity.

Thank you! I can't take credit for the poem, but it does really sum up Luke's journey, doesn't it?

 

As always, thanks to ginchy for her help and encouragement.

********


Chapter 8


1 NRE

To anyone else, Leia would appear the picture of serene calm. But Han Solo knew his wife, and could see the nervous ticks that betrayed her anxious state. The way she fiddled with the hair at the nape of her neck, ensuring it was properly encased in her intricate bun, the way she smoothed out an invisible wrinkle in her dress, the way she held her head perfectly straight as she watched the entrance to the villa.

“Hello?” a soft female voice called, and a woman appeared at the top of the stairs leading down to the dock. She was well into her middle age, but had a proud, strong face framed by dark hair streaked with only a few strands of grey. She wore an elegant, full length dress of dark blue in the style of the aristocracy, and although her carriage and bearing were almost regal, there was no hint of superiority or snobbishness about her.

Han looked over at Leia, who was still seated on the chaise, seemingly frozen in place. Han leapt up to greet the woman. “Han Solo,” he said, holding his hand out.

“General Solo, of course.” She grasped his hand and gave it a firm shake. “I am Sola Naberrie.”

Leia appeared at Han’s elbow, and he put an encouraging hand on her back. “My wife, Leia,” Han said gently, and then retreated to his perch on the edge of the couch.

“Leia,” Sola breathed as if she had seen a ghost. “Such a beautiful name.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Sola,” Leia found her voice, although Han could hear the edge to it.

“Oh Leia,” Sola’s face crinkled into a smile. “You have no idea.” She hesitantly reached forward to cup Leia’s face in her hands, eyes wet and her lips trembling. “You look so much like her,” she said.

“So I’ve been told,” Leia answered softly.

Sola began to cry, and pulled Leia into a tight embrace. After a few moments Leia relaxed into the arms of her aunt and Han sighed with relief. Luke had told him that Sola had a friendly and welcoming demeanor, and it seemed that despite Han’s doubts that information had been correct.

Han watched as Leia pulled away and wiped the tears from her eyes, visibly composing herself. There was such a look of wonder on Sola’s face, as if she could not believe that Leia was real. It made Han’s heart twinge a little, for he’d never been close with his own family back on Corellia. His mother and father had died when he was still a boy, and the less said about his aunt and cousins the better. And yet, he had Leia and Luke, and one day, he would have his own children and with any luck nieces and nephews as well. Leia may have taken his name when they’d gotten married, but Han had taken her family. As for Chewbacca – well, he had adopted them all long ago.

“Please, sit down,” Leia gestured towards the table where a tea tray had been prepared. Sola took a seat graciously and Leia followed suit, but Han remained perched on the edge of the couch, not wanting to intrude on Leia’s moment.

“Tea?” Leia asked, and poured a cup when receiving an affirmative reply. “It must be strange,” Leia added lightly. “To have someone else playing hostess in your own home.”

“Not at all,” Sola replied with a kind smile. “This is a family home, and you, dear Leia, are family. You must come and stay anytime you like.”

“That is kind of you,” Leia said evenly. Han knew that it would take time to think of the Naberries as family, but eventually she would realise that acknowledging them as such would not displace the Organas from her heart.

“It must have come as quite a shock,” Leia continued, eyes darting up cautiously over the rim of her teacup as she drank. “To learn about me and my brother.”

Sola put down her tea gently, but Han did not miss the slight tremble in her hand. “It was,” she nodded. “But a wonderful one,” Sola added, reaching forward to touch Leia’s hand. “Padmé was my younger sister, but she was always wise beyond her years. She was a wonderful queen, and I was so proud of her.” Sola looked away wistfully, and Han wondered if she was remembering her own childhood in the villa, and happier times with her lost sister.

“She always fought for the weak and maligned,” Sola continued. “Believing that it was the obligation of the powerful and strong to protect those less fortunate.” Sola smiled lightly and Han smirked at the familiarity. “And yet she was a slave to that duty,” she continued. “I used to tease her that she was so concerned with the happiness and wellbeing of others that she wouldn’t have time to find it for herself…” Sola suddenly became somber, and withdrew her hand, searching within the pockets of her dress for a handkerchief. “But I suppose she did, for a while. Although she could not tell me.” Sola dabbed the corner of eyes with her handkerchief, clearly upset by the memory.

This time it was Leia who reached over the table to gently rest her hand over Sola’s in comfort. Han looked down at his boots, unsure of whether he should offer his own support or allow Leia her space.

But then Sola raised her head and smiled weakly, trying to dispel her melancholy. “But I’m sure Luke has told you all of this,” she said.

“Yes,” Leia admitted. “But I would like to hear it from you, as well. Luke…has a tendency to focus only on the positive, and I like to know the whole story.”

“He has a very warm spirit,” Sola agreed with an indulgent and genuine smile. And aunt’s smile, Han noted.

“Did you talk to him much when he was here?” Leia asked, pouring them both more tea.

Sola nodded. “I was so pleased to be paid a visit from the famous Luke Skywalker,” she answered, sipping from her cup. “He said that he was looking for his mother.” Sola looked away, sadness once again crossing her face. “I told him that I was sorry, but it couldn’t have been Padmé, for she and her child had died.”

Han thought back to Ben Kenobi, and wondered how the old man had lived with himself, allowing Sola and the Naberrie family to believe they had lost not only Padmé, but her child as well. He had never cared much for Kenobi; now he wished he’d acted on the urge he’d once had to punch the sleemo in the face.

“I told him I had once met his father,” Sola continued. “It was so many years ago, and I was sorry I could not remember much.” She clasped her hands in her lap and composed herself. “I took him to see Padmé’s grave, and he stayed there for a long time, but did not share his suspicions with me. Perhaps he would have, but there was a situation on Theed that day and Queen Mercella asked him to intervene.”

Han fought the urge to roll his eyes – of course there had been. He kept telling Luke not to check in with the local government authority every time he visited a new planet, or he would spend all of his travels doing them favours. But of course, the young man had not listened. He was also a slave to duty.

“It was only after Luke returned to Coruscant that he called me and let me know what he had discovered,” Sola added. “We’ve spoken a few times since then.”

Leia cast her gaze downward and took another sip of her tea. Luke had asked her to join him, of course, but Leia had been reluctant. She’d wanted to meet Sola face to face, first.

“Do you have any children, Sola?” Leia asked, shifting the conversation away to a safer topic.

“Two,” Sola smiled broadly. “Ryoo and her husband live in Theed, and my younger daughter Pooja is on Coruscant. She followed in Padmé’s footsteps and became a Senator.”

Comprehension dawned on Leia’s face. “I know her,” she nodded. “Senator Nabarrie, of course.” Leia laughed lightly. “She was an informant for the Rebellion, I’ve met her several times. We had to be careful in those days, but I always sensed that I could trust her.” Leia shook her head in disbelief, as if she wasn’t sure why she hadn’t put it together before.

“Well she is your cousin, my dear,” Sola said fondly. “You must go see her when you return to the Captial.”

“I will,” Leia promised.

“And you must come and visit the rest of your family here on Naboo,” Sola told them. “My husband Darred is desperate to meet you, as are your grandparents, of course.”

Han saw a brief panic flicker in Leia’s eyes, and could see that the prospect slightly overwhelmed her. He was about to cut in and make some excuse, or even just point out that he and Leia were in their honeymoon and they would like time to enjoy each other, thank you very much, but Leia composed herself quickly.

“We would love that,” she smiled, and Han could see that her concern about the Nabarrie family had been alleviated. They were welcome, and wanted.

The two women began to chat again as Leia told her aunt about her adventures in the Rebellion, meeting Luke and Han and discovering her true parentage. She did not mention Darth Vader, but instead went along with the official story which had been released by the NR government; Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Naberrie had been secretly married during the Clone Wars, but Anakin had been killed in the Jedi Purges and Padmé assassinated in a plot by Palpatine to prevent the birth of her Force-strong children. Han noted with distaste that this version cast Kenobi is a somewhat more heroic role than he deserved, as the dear friend to both Skywalker and Naberrie, spiriting Padmé away so she could give birth and he himself watching over one child, while the other was raised by ally of the Jedi Bail Organa. Why Kenobi had not thought to bring either child or both to Naboo, Han could not fathom.

But the holopress and public had eaten the story up, and Han had heard that there was already an unauthorized holofilm and an officially sanctioned documentary in the works. The price of fame, he supposed.

The conversation was soon interrupted by a loud beeping from the comm unit signaling an incoming call, and Han ambled over to answer it. “Solo, here,” he said, feeling both Leia and Sola’s scarily similar eyes on him.

“Han?” Wedge’s voice came over the comm.

“Wedge.” Relief flooded though Han to hear from him. Leia had lost contact with Luke through the Force a few days ago so he’d asked the General to look into it - and had tried to keep his wife distracted from her worry since then. “What’s the story?”

“I’ve brought the Victory to Myrkr-”

“You took a Star Destroyer?” Han asked, incredulous. “I said send the Rogues.”

“I did,” Wedge answered, and Han could almost hear his grin. “I’m still Rogue Leader.”

“Did you find him?” Han rolled his eyes and moved on.

“Not yet,” Wedge said regretfully, and Han’s heart sank. “We’ve visited the base of Talon Karrde but his people claim he’s gone – they don’t know where,” Wedge continued. “But from the logs a ship took off right after we hailed them from the Victory – pretty convenient, huh? It hasn’t left the system, they must still be on the planet. And I bet he’s got Luke.”

Damn smugglers, Han thought to himself, not even able to appreciate the irony of such a thought. Like all of them Luke had a dozen bounties on him that any two-bit criminal would be happy to collect. But from what he’d heard, Talon Karrde was no lowly outlaw and Han knew from experience it was the clever ones you had to watch out for. With most smugglers it was simply a matter of price, but it was almost impossible to tell which way a man like Karrde could swing. He could be a helpful ally or a bitter enemy, and you wouldn’t know which it until the moment he betrayed you.

“We’re on our way,” Han said resolutely and switched off the line, turning back to the two women at the table and shrugging apologetically. He knew without even asking that Leia would want to go to Luke immediately.

Sola seemed to understand, and looked at Leia kindly. “Your brother seems to attract trouble, doesn’t he?”

Han sighed. “Lady, you have no idea.”


*****************


29 NRE

Mara walked swiftly through the hallways of the New Republic Executive Building towards the Chancellor’s Suite. Jaina was on maneuvers with Rogue Squadron, and so Mara was having difficulty distracting herself. She’d tried to discuss Academy business with Tionne, but such matters bored Mara to tears and she’d been unable to stop her thoughts drifting to her husband and sons out in the galaxy, away from her protection. Since she knew Leia would also need some distracting today, she’d decided to drop in on her sister-in-law.

“Mistress Mara!” Threepio greeted her enthusiastically at the entrance to Leia’s office “Oh, dear,” he added worriedly. “I mean Master Jade,” he corrected himself apologetically when he saw she was wearing her Jedi cloak.

“Call me whatever you like, Threepio,” Mara rolled her eyes. A slave to protocol, Threepio was always anxious to use the correct title for the occasion. So when he saw her at a family occasion, it was Mistress Mara, but when she was on Jedi business it was always Master Jade. Mara had once spent an amusing evening confusing his circuits by pointing out the contradictions in his stance. Why did he never call Luke Master Skywalker? Threepio had tried to argue that it was because he was Luke’s droid. Mara had pointed out that hadn’t been the case for years, and therefore there was no reason to refer to her as his mistress by proxy. And besides, she’d added, he lived with Han and Leia and yet while he alternated between Mistress Leia and Madame Chancellor depending on the occasion, he only ever referred to Han as General Solo.

Mara had taken much pleasure in Threepio’s flummoxed little twists of the head and arms as he had been unable to come up with a suitable explanation. Then Luke had told her to knock it off and leave the poor droid alone, giving Threepio a sympathetic pat on a golden shoulder.

“I’m here to see Leia,” Mara informed Threepio. “And no, before you ask I don’t have an appointment,” she continued, before stalking past him and into the Chancellor’s Office without bothering to knock. Mara ignored Threepio’s protests behind her, since she’d checked Leia’s schedule herself and saw that she had a free afternoon.

Leia was tapping away at her computer interface when Mara entered, but when she looked up her face betrayed no surprise.

“Hello, Mara,” Leia greeted her with a warm smile and then went back to her typing. “I thought I felt you coming.”

Threepio waddled into the room behind Mara with obvious distress. “Madame Chancellor-”

“It’s alright, Threepio,” Leia waved him away, not taking her eyes off her display. The droid spluttered about for a bit, but then obediently retreated to the outer rooms.

Mara crossed the room and relaxed into a chair across from Leia’s desk. She swung one leg over the other to make herself comfortable and patiently waited for Leia to finish whatever she was working on. Had it been anyone else, Leia may have been tempted to stop what she was doing immediately, but Mara didn’t mind Leia finishing her work, just as Leia didn’t mind her showing up unexpectedly. It was only a few minutes before Leia closed the document she was working on and gave Mara her full attention.

“Where’s Zeb?” Mara asked, noting that the young man was not at his desk.

“Meeting with the Rodanian senator,” Leia told her. “She is a trial to deal with, but its good practice for him.”

“Hmm.” Mara wasn’t overly interested in that. “Jaina’s been pretty happy the past few days,” she added slyly, a subject she found much more entertaining.

“Yes, she has, hasn’t she,” Leia agreed with a smug smile of her own. “Has she said anything to you?”

Mara shook her head. Jaina hadn’t breathed a word to her, but she’d noticed the change in her demeanor and felt the lightness of her spirit. It hadn’t been too hard to figure out the source.

“Well, let her keep her secret for now,” Leia advised. “After all, love at nineteen rarely lasts.”

Mara gave her a pointed look. “And sometimes it does.”

Leia looked as if she was far away, a soft smile on her face as she fingered the pendant which always hung round her neck. “Yes. Sometimes we get lucky.”

“Speaking of luck,” Mara said. “When is that no-good husband of yours back?”

“Soon,” Leia said somewhat soberly. “Today, I hope.”

Mara mentally kicked herself – of course Leia would want Han to be with her today, and she’d drawn attention to the fact he wasn’t back yet. It was a rookie mistake, one Mara could only blame on her own turbulent emotions. The day Luke had left for Tatooine she hadn’t even been able to leave her room, an uncharacteristic despondency settling on her. Micah had come round that morning and tried to rouse her, but she had ignored his knocks on the door. Leia had arrived later that night and unlike Micah had not been stopped by a locked door. She’d let herself in and crawled into the bed beside Mara and had embraced her tightly as only a sister could. Mara hadn’t needed to tell Leia her worries – her fear about the visions Luke had experienced, her eldest son on the same planet as a suspected Sith, her other son about to leave as well. Leia knew it already, and soothed her with understanding and sisterly affection.

Mara had felt ashamed when Leia had told her of the days events at NRI and on Corellia. Not for the first time was she humbled by Leia’s compassion, that ability to set her own sorrows aside and alleviate the pains of others. It had galvanized Mara into action, promising Leia that the Jedi would investigate both situations. She’d even been able to make it to the spaceport before Micah left for Rodan, to say goodbye and also to hear his first-hand account of the Freesi pirates. Mara had spent the past few days investigating with little success, and told Leia so.

“From what Syal Antilles reports the NRI haven’t had much luck either,” Leia informed her in response.

Mara flinched at the name. Although she loved Syal dearly, but it was a mother’s prerogative to take her son’s side in any conflict, and so had avoided the woman for some time. “We’ll keep trying, Leia,” Mara promised, thinking that she would have to seek out the Antilles girl after all.

“Excuse me, Madame Chancellor?” Threepio appeared in the doorway again.

“Yes, Threepio?” Leia asked, throwing Mata an exasperated glance.

“Senator Avaice has filed an official request for the Jedi Order to report to the Senate,” Threepio told them as he waddled over to Leia’s desk, a datapad in his hand. “It requires your approval.”

Leia’s mouth twisted distastefully at the news. “He was in here the other day asking why so many Jedi have been away from Coruscant.”

Mara rolled her eyes. “Is that old coot still alive?” she asked with derision. “I used to see him around the Imperial Palace when I was the Hand,” she added conversationally. “He was a pompous blowhard then and I gather not much has changed.”

“It hasn’t,” Leia said grimly. “And he refuses to retire.” Leia took the datapad from Threepio and studied the request for a few moments. “Technically the Jedi Order is not a government body,” she said, her eyes scanning the document. “And therefore cannot be compelled to appear before the Senate.” Leia signed her name electronically on the datapad. “But I suggest you agree - to do otherwise would generate even more suspicion.”

“I’ll ask Tionne,” Mara agreed, and then sighed. “You shouldn’t have given up your seat on the Council, Leia,” Mara told her as Threepio exited the room again. “You’re better suited to this than any of the Jedi at the Temple.”

“I had to, you know that,” Leia replied, perhaps a bit sharply. “It’s a conflict of interest – to be a Jedi and Chancellor is one thing. To have a seat on the Council and hold the highest office in the Republic is something else entirely.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Mara conceded. “I guess I miss the old days a bit,” he added with a nostalgic smile. “Remember Dathomir?”

Leia chuckled fondly. “I think you and I enjoyed it more than Luke and Han did.”

Mara grinned at the memory. “I don’t know what they were complaining about – once the witches realized that the boys belonged to us they backed off.”

“I don’t remember you being so amused when Teneniel Djo tried to claim Luke as her mate,” Leia teased her.

“I don’t know what you mean, Leia,” Mara countered innocently. “I acted perfectly rationally.”

“Rational by Dathomiri standards, perhaps,” Leia insisted. “Hardly by Jedi ones.”

Mara shrugged and was about to retort when she heard a Threepio’s raised voice and a load roar in the outer room. She leapt to her feet, lightsaber in hand, but relaxed when she saw the reason for Threepio’s excitement.

Han Solo limped into the room, a brace on his left leg impeding his movements but not his swagger or his crooked grin. Beside him was Chewbacca, growling at Threepio as the droid was giving them both a lyrical greeting and his relief at seeing Han alive and well.

[Look who I found at the spaceport] Chewie roared at them, shooing Threepio away.

“Oh, Han!” Leia swept over to him, running her fingers through his silver hair and covering his face with kisses. “What have you done to yourself, you silly man?”

“The ground did most of the damage, to be honest,” Han joked and accepted Leia’s kisses with fervor. His arms encased her tightly, and Mara felt relief and a twinge of longing for her own husband.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she cut in with a wry smile as she headed towards the door. “I’d like to leave the room before your reunion becomes too vigorous.”

“Wise move, Jade,” Han growled before he turned his attention to Leia again. Chewbacca roared his agreement and followed Mara out into the main suite, leaving husband and wife to their reunion.

“So how are things on Kashyyyk, Chewbacca?” Mara asked as they walked through the Senate halls.

[All is well] Chewbacca growled. [Although I overheard something troubling at the spaceport.]

“Oh?” Mara was curious.

[Two lower-levellers talking about the attack on NRI headquarters]

“Who isn’t talking about that?” Mara shrugged.

[But these two mentioned the Freesi] Chewie rumbled. [That detail was not released.]

Mara couldn’t help but feel brightened somewhat by the news – finally, a break in the case. “Tell me what they looked like.”


**********



Leia stood on her and Han’s private balcony and looked wistfully out over the Coruscant skyline. It was twilight, arguably the most beautiful time of day on Coruscant, when the setting sun was reflected a thousand different colours against the mass of buildings and structures which were the spine of the city. The lights of the upper levels were starting to come on, adding further texture and depth to the metropolis already alive with illumination and movement.

And yet Leia could not appreciate the beauty of her surroundings. The lights and colours were lost on her, and the bitter chill of the wind cut through her thin nightgown. Through the Force she could feel billions of lives, shining so brightly and filling her head with just as many thoughts, hopes and dreams, and yet Leia’s heart felt empty.

Her baby would be twenty eight today, she mused. He should be one of those billions of lives she could feel pulsating in the night, and yet she had lost him before she even had the chance to know him.

They’d been vacationing on Naboo in the final months of her pregnancy, as Leia had wanted her child born away from the oppressive attention and noise of Coruscant. And Naboo was not only the home of her maternal relatives, but it reminded Leia so much of Alderaan. She wanted her baby to know the beauty of deep oceans, soft grass and unfiltered sun, not the cool transparisteel and pollution of the Capital.

But he had come early, and Leia had been rushed to the medcomplex on Theed. Although she’d had the best medical treatment available, it had not been enough to save her little boy. She remembered holding his tiny body in her arms, utterly still and lifeless. She had felt the dark side swirl around her as she wept, compounding her grief and grasping at her, fighting for her. Luke hadn’t been there – none of them had expected early labour and he’d still been on Coruscant working on the reconstruction of the Jedi Temple.

But Han had been there.

In that moment she had known that she would never give into the darkness or despair, so long as Han was with her. Leia had often felt pity from other Jedi who’d married within their own ranks, thinking that she and Han couldn’t possibly have the same depth of connection that other couples found through the Force. They looked to her brother and Mara as an example of such a union, although Leia knew that neither her brother nor his wife ascribed to such notions. Still, younger, less experienced Jedi thought that the Force was everything; that it was the only way to truly connect to another. They were wrong, this Leia knew in the very core of her being.

Luke had once repeated to her the words of Master Kenobi – that the Force surrounded and penetrated all living things, binding the galaxy together. Simply because a being was not able to tap into that energy, he had told her, did not mean that they did not have the Force within them, that they were not made of the Force itself as Jedi were. It was Luke’s firm belief that all beings could access the Force on some level, and if they could not do it consciously it could manifest in other ways – luck at a sabacc table, or a talent for flying. That was why he never turned away a prospective student, even if their Force talents were limited.

Although Leia could not consciously connect with Han using the Force, it did not mean that the connection was not there, or was not as strong as Jedi partners shared. She felt she knew Han, and he knew her, on a level so deep and intimate that nothing could break them apart. It was that connection of soul that Leia had felt the worst day of her life, that bond which had drawn her back from the darkness. It was that bond that had gotten them through the years afterward.

She felt Han stir in the other room, and Leia left the balcony to return to him, curling up beside his sleeping form on the bed. He moved unconsciously to embrace her, and she rested her head against Han’s strong chest. Leia wouldn’t sleep that night, for if she did the nightmares would take her – visions of herself back in that medcentre with her lost child in her arms. But Han would be there to talk to her, to cry with her, to tell jokes and make her mad. Together, they would get through the night.

Leia rested her hand against his injured leg. He’d promised her that he’d spent some time in the bacta tank on the return journey from Corellia, which had been enough to set the bone, but it still required time to heal. He had removed the brace but still held his leg stiffly, even in sleep. Gently, Leia ran her fingers over his knee and calf, reaching out through the Force to locate the torn muscles, the crack in the bone which the bacta had not been able to fully remedy. Leia sent soothing waves through the Force, and felt Han shift and then relax against her as the pain receded. His lips brushed against her forehead as he woke up, and Leia relaxed deeper into his embrace.

They lay there entwined together in their grief and love and determination not to forget, but to honour and remember, even if it was only once a year.

Happy birthday, my baby boy, she whispered silently into the air as Han’s arms tightened around her. Happy birthday, Jacen.

 

The flashback: I love Sola's genuine warmth and welcome, her grief and compassion. She really knows how to put a person at ease.

Loved Han's running inner commentary

~~!

I enjoyed reading of Mara's vulnerable feeling surrounding her family being away and how she got 'sisterly' moral support.
Woohoo - on the reminiscing between Mara and Leia about the events on Dathomir - sounds exciting and squeelicious eventually--once Teneniel is dealt with.

But this:


Leia sent soothing waves through the Force, and felt Han shift and then relax against her she felt the pain recede. His lips brushed against her forehead and Leia relaxed deeper into his embrace.
They lay there entwined together in their grief and love and determination not to forget, but to honour and remember, even if it was only once a year.
Happy birthday, my baby boy, she whispered silently into the air as Han’s arms tightened around her. Happy birthday, Jacen.


That rates a big d'awwwww and a

 

My favorite part was that last paragraph with Han and Leia - her healing him further in the Force and her wishing her 'baby boy' happy birthday - interesting making him like ten years older than Jaina.

 

First off, I love the Leia/Sola flashback. *sigh* Adore the Leia/Mara dynamic, and the scene with Han.

 

If there are still annual awards in this forum, this fic needs to win so hard.

 

Perfect, just perfect!

 

Thank you! Claudia Karvan is a fine actress, and it was a shame they cut Sola from AoTC, I was more than happy to include her, since Luke and Leia have discovered their true heritage.

Ah, yes, there may be a future flashback regarding the Dathomir trip Probably not in this fic, more likely the sequel.

Thanks! I had real trouble writing H/L this chapter (which is why they don't really interact - my easy way out ) but it was important to give them this little moment.

Thanks! I think Leia would have a natural strength for healing - her reaction to any crisis in the OT seems to be to comfort, after all. I'm trying to stick as close as I can to the released information regarding Ep VII, and there was just no scope for twins, and yet Daisy Ridley seemed the obvious fit for Jaina. So my dilemma was, what about Jacen? He didn't seem to have an equivalent in the cast, and I needed a reason why Han and Leia wouldn't have Jaina until more than ten years after ROTJ. So, plot-related past angst (which will feed not only into Leia and Han's character arcs for the fic, but Jaina's as well)

More Sola, I say. I really wanted her to have a good relationship with Luke and Leia - they all needed it, I think. And I really wanted to make Leia and Mara sisterly, since they make such a good team.

Aww, thanks!

Thank you!

 

Probably my favorite lines out of the new stuff, though it's hard to choose! These are wonderful chapters. I'm also interested by the flashbacks with Luke, Mara, and Karrde, which are already going off their Thrawn trilogy track... it will be fun to learn how that went. (Loved that Luke was so worried about making sure Artoo got away all right. It's nice to see that friendship remembered.)

 

Love the update! Aww, Jacen.

 

I just found this story and have been binge reading it today. I love it. I haven't read the entire thing but what I have, it's fantastic. Even though I know Mara and Ben won't show up in Episode VII, I read things like this and then imagine how awesome it would be. Siiiiigh. I predict a lot of "Mara in Episode VII" fics in the next few years, and I'm looking forward to all of them.

I'll be keeping an eye on this one!

 

I love how you added that bit about Syal. Perfect. I love how you got through the H/L hurdle, and you handled that also, perfectly. Your Mara is beyond compare, as always. And Han and Leia. They've lost so much. But at least they still have each other, and their daughter. Also, it was great to see Chewie!!!!

 

still patiently waiting for the next chapter .

 

Thank you! There are some similarities to the events of the Thrawn Trilogy (no Thrawn, obviously) but being able to re-write it an incorporate the prequel knowledge is fun for me. And I love Luke and Artoo being bros

Thanks

Thank you! The only silver lining about Mara and Ben not being in EP VII (most likely) is all the fix-it fic I'm looking forward to reading (and probably writing).

I think Mara and Syal would be very close, but she's a Mama Bear first and foremost

I've been working on it, and hope to have it posted in the next few days.

 

Chapter 9


1 NRE


Mara awoke to a severe pounding in her head and the scent of earth filling her nostrils. She groaned and rolled over, trying to orient herself. Then it came back to her in a wave - Karrde telling her frantically that the New Republic had sent a Star Destroyer to search for Skywalker and his plan to move him to a secret base in the mountains; her collecting Skywalker from his cell and having to listen to his insufferable chatter; him hearing the NR hail over the comm and using the distraction to draw his lightsaber. Then there was the frantic and sickening crash into the forest.

Mara sat up swiftly and looked around. The shuttle was nearby and it looked as it someone had extinguished several fires on the hull and cockpit. Across the small clearing where they had crashed Mara saw Karrde lying wounded and unconscious in the dirt, with Skywalker kneeling above him. Fear gripped her heart and Mara forced herself over to them, not about to let Skywalker hurt Talon. She was so blindly angry she forget to reach for her blaster, instead trying to push Skywalker off Karrde physically.

“Get away from him,” Mara spat out with force and vitriol, but Skywalker held firm. It was only then that she realised he was was not attacking Karrde, but instead pressing his hands down against Karrde’s leg to stop the flow of blood from a wound.

“Get a bacta patch,” Skywalker growled.

Too shocked to do anything except obey, Mara stumbled back to the shuttle and located a small medpack. When she returned she took into account Karrde’s full injuries. He had small cuts and burns on his face and arms from where the console had exploded on him, and Mara noticed a small piece of shrapnel, slick with blood, on the ground. Skywalker must have removed from Karrde’s leg and was now trying to stop the bleeding.

Mara recovered her senses and took a bacta patch from the medpack, pushing Skywalker’s hands away from Karrde and applying the patch herself. Then she tended to his other, superficial injuries, feeling Skywalker’s eyes on her the whole time. That he had not yet awoken concerned her, but his pulse and breathing were normal. Of more concern was the cut on his leg which might attract infection if not treated.

“It’s not deep,” Skywalker said when she was finished, putting a hand on her shoulder. “He should be alright.”

A sudden and violent anger consumed her. “You idiot!” she screamed at him as she pushed him away, rising to her feet with clenched fists. He rose as well as gave her an infuriating, impassive look. “You sithspawn, look what you’ve done to him.” Fury overwhelmed her, and Mara could not stop herself from hurtling her clenched fist towards his unaffected face, landing a clean punch to his left eye. The force of it sent Skywalker to the ground and satisfaction flooded her.

Skywalker sighed and rose to his feet slowly, rubbing his eye. “You shot at me first,” he reminded her coolly. “I deflected the blast to avoid killing him.”

Mara thought back to that split second in the shuttle, and realised that he had angled his saber at the moment when Karrde had stepped between them, sending deflecting the blaster bolt into the cockpit’s console. Which meant that the crash was her fault. She looked back at Talon’s form lying on the ground, an unfamiliar fear gripping her.

“Tell me why I can’t access the Force,” Skywalker demanded, and followed her gaze. “If I can get it back I could heal him.”

“No, you can’t,” Mara rubbed her forehead with exasperation. “It was nothing we did to you – it is this planet.” She lifted her gaze back to his, none too pleased to share Karrde’s Jedi-proofing secret, but understanding that it was a necessity, now. “Or rather, a creature on this planet called the ysalamiri – they block the Force within a ten metre radius. The base was full of them,” she continued. “And there’s even more here in the forest.”

There was a rustling in the trees behind them, and Mara jumped back as she saw a fanged creature with a whip-like tail emerge. Luke saw it too, and drew his lightsaber, igniting the green blade with a snap-hiss and stepping between her and the creature. It leapt towards them with a suddenness of movement that beguiled its size, but Skywalker took two steps forward and decapitated the creature mid-leap.

“Is that it?” he asked, slightly breathless with obvious fear, staring down at the animal, steaming slightly from the cut of his lightsaber. Clearly, he was wondering what he would have done if the creature had not alerted them to its presence and given him time to prepare for its attack.

“No,” Mara said, unable to keep the shake from her voice. “That’s a vornskr.” She put her fingers to her temples and massaged, trying to will away the ache in her head. “I have to fix the ship.”

“No good,” Skywalker shook his head. “The console’s fried, even the communications are down. We should walk back to the base-”

“I’m not leaving Karrde,” she cut him off angrily.

Skywalker eyed her. “If you let me finish, I was going to say we should walk back to the base and get help.”

“It will take days,” Mara countered, and she cast a worried look back at Karrde, still unconscious in the dirt. Even when he woke up, he wouldn’t be fit to make the journey, not with that leg wound.

“If we secure him in the ship and leave supplies he’ll be alright,” Skywalker said.

Mara looked back at Skywalker, annoyed that his suggestion was actually reasonable. A treacherous part of her mind whispered that she should just dispatch Skywalker and claim that he’d been killed in the crash. Talon couldn’t blame her for that, surely? And even if he suspected, she would have saved his life and would quickly get over a simple matter of disobedience.

“No doubt you’re thinking that you can just kill me now, and make it to the other side of the forest by yourself,” Skywalker said, and Mara was unnerved at his insight. “But you’ll need me if those creatures come after you.” He indicated the dead vornskr in the dirt.

“I can take care of them myself.” If she had his lightsaber, Mara told herself, she could defend herself. She had once been a hunter herself, she knew how they thought.

“Maybe you can,” he nodded. “But would you bet your life on that? Would you bet his life?” he gestured to Karrde.

Skywalker waited for several long seconds as she stared him down. Killing Skywalker was her final order from the Emperor, and she had never failed before. She’d let that impulse overwhelm her, in the shuttle, taking the shot on the chance that he would not be able to deflect it in such close quarters and it would be over.

“In case it helps you make up your mind,” Skywalker continued. “I should point out that I have the only blaster.” He pulled Karrde’s gun from behind his back and Mara cursed herself inwardly. He must have pocketed it before she’s regained consciousness, and Mara pulled her own blaster, confirming that the crash had short-circuited the wiring, rendering it useless. Damn, Mara thought to herself. It was careless not to think to secure Karrde’s blaster, but she’d been so concerned for him. That’s why you can’t care for people, she berated herself. They make you weak. And now she would pay the ultimate price.

“You win, Skywalker,” she said with resignation, throwing her ruined blaster down to the ground. “Just do it quickly.”

Skywalker visibly blanched and put the blaster back in his holster. “I’m not going to kill you, Mara,” he said, as if the thought was abhorrent. She took a step towards him, for a split-second wondering if she could take the blaster from him, but it was immediately back in his hand and Mara was unnerved. She’d never seen anyone draw a weapon that fast.

“Let me clarify,” Skywalker said, and there was a sudden edge to his voice. “I don’t want to kill you. But don’t force my hand, Jade.”

She took a step backwards. “You should kill me,” she told him. Better to die than be his prisoner and live with her utter failure. “Because sooner or later I’ll get that blaster from you, and that will be it. Because I do want to kill you and I won’t hesitate.”

Skywalker stared at her for several long moments, almost as if he was trying to read something in her eyes. Mara told herself that he couldn’t possibly, not without the Force, but didn’t care because she knew that her gaze held only resolve.

“I’ll take my chances,” he said, holstered his blaster and walked over to Karrde, hoisting the man up to drag him to the shuttle.

Mara furrowed her brow, wondering why he would be stupid enough to leave an enemy alive. She was more of a danger to him than the vornskrs, and Karrde had been the man who’d wanted to collect the bounty on his head. Why would Skywalker show compassion to either of them?

Because it wasn’t compassion, Mara told herself. It was arrogance – like all of the Jedi before him. And as it had been for the other Jedi, that arrogance would be his undoing. But she went to help him carry Karrde back into the shuttle, unrolling a bedroll for him to rest on and placing medical supplies, food and water in his reach. It would be enough to last him four days, and if he changed the bacta patch regularly his leg wound should not put him in any danger. She wrote an explanation and instructions on a datapad for when he awoke.

Skywalker collected the remaining supplies into a travel pack and slung it over his shoulder. Mara knew that the sooner they left the sooner they could get help, but she could quite bring herself to stand.




“I’ll be outside,” Skywalker said softly, and walked down the ramp.

“Karrde?” she took his hand and squeezed. He grunted and his eyes opened to slits, to Mara’s great relief. “Talon?”

“Mara?” Karrde’s gaze was unfocused and his voice heavy. “What-?”

“I left you a note that explains everything,” Mara told him. Now that she knew he was alright, she was anxious to leave. “Skywalker and I will walk back to the base and get help - you’ll be safe here.”

Karrde clutched her hand anxiously. “Skywalker…”

“Don’t worry, Karrde.” She patted his hand fondly, so grateful that he was alive nothing else seemed very important. “I won’t kill him. I promised you.”

Karrde’s dark, cloudy eyes were on her. “Not for me,” he muttered. “For you.” He winced in pain, his leg shifting slightly, and Mara quickly gave him an injection of painkillers. It would knock him out for a few hours, but that was for the best.

“You’re not...who he made you Mara,” Karrde said, clearly struggling to stay awake. “You are who you choose - remember...remember that.”

“Karrde?” Mara questioned him, but he slipped back into unconsciousness, leaving her uncertain as to what he'd meant by the words. Sighing, Mara patted his hand again and left the shuttle.

Skywalker was waiting for her at the treeline with a reassuring smile. She scowled and activated the shuttle’s ramp, sealing Karrde safely inside. First she watched Skywalker turn his back and begin walking back in the direction of the base, then retrieved her broken blaster from the ground and put it back in her holster before following him into the woods.


*****************************************************************


29 NRE


The vast Jundland Wastes were the perfect place to hide on Tatooine. Deep canyons pitted the landscape, buffeted by rocky outcrops and steep cliffs of red sandstone. Magnetic deposits buried deep within the rock scrambled most technology, making the area impossible to scan. Tusken Raiders roamed the area, attacking anyone who came too close and marking their territory with mutilated corpses of their victims. But Fin Delrond was not afraid.

He had come across a tribe of them during his exploration of the Wastes, and he had only needed to draw his lightsaber and ignite the blood-red blade to ignite terror in their hearts. The Tuskens had garbled to each other in their own language and fled. He’d only been able to pick out one word through the Force: ghost.

Fin had traced their fear deep into the Wastes, until he came across the ruins of a Tusken village nestled in a narrow valley. Bones from banthas, Tuskens and humans littered the area; some old and chalky, others fresh from ritual sacrifices. A tattered shrine stood at the centre of the camp, with various offerings of bone, clothing and gaffi sticks, and Fin laid his hands over the artifacts.

The dark side was strong here. Fin could feel it, reaching out to him, embracing him, teaching him. Psychomentry had always been his gift; to see through the Force events long past. He searched through the camp, touching various objects and opening himself up to the impressions of the past and the secrets they were willing to share with him.

The overwhelming darkness he felt took the form of a dragon; a beast of pure wrath and hate and purpose. The dragon had reached out its claw, breathed its blue fire and slaughtered all that lay in its path, caring not for the innocence nor youth among its victims. It had been a great massacre; hatred fuelling power and fury until no one remained. Only the dragon.

But as Fin delved further into the Force, he realised that beast had been in the body of a man; tall and dark as a shadow against the red landscape. It’s claws which had choked the Tuskens had been the fingers of the Force; the blue fire the dragon had breathed had been the lightsaber of a Jedi. Fin could feel the man’s utter passionate hate through the Force, burning in his veins and clarifying his mind to a single purpose: revenge. The shadowed man may have come to this place a Jedi, Fin realised, but he had not left as one.

The dragon had been awoken in his heart, and would prowl and pace and claw at its cage until it was unleashed again. And yet Fin could sense there was more to his vision, some other piece of crucial information which the Force was not ready to reveal to him.

Who was the dragon? Was it a spirit, a dark entity which Fin needed to absorb, to become the Sith he was destined to be? Or was the dragon a beacon to show Fin what he and his father had come to Tatooine to find - a way to bring down the Skywalkers?

Fin searched again, but this time the Force chose not to answer him.


*************************************************************************************

The southern expanse of the Jundland Wastes was treacherous and dangerous country. Not even the Tuskens dared set foot there, for sarlaccs lay waiting just below the surface, their gaping mouths disguised as crevices or fissures in the rocky landscape. They were not as large as their mighty brother in the Pit of Carkoon, but they were still deadly and uncharted. And yet easy enough for a Sith to sense.

Svel Delrond had known that Skywalker would visit the Kenobi home almost immediately upon arriving on Tatooine, and so they had been forced to abandon it as their base. He had flown their ship the Peerless Joy low over the Wastes and through the Force quickly located a young sarlacc in an isolated area. It had been simple work for Svel and his son to kill the creature and take it’s cave for their new hiding place. Svel knew that no ship would be able to detect their presence due to the magnetic rock surrounding them, and the creature’s death should conceal their presence in the Force for a time.

So while Fin was exploring the Wastes and locating the dark spot they both had felt, Svel busied himself in the Peerless’ laboratory. The luxury yacht had been a gift from Svel’s own father when he was fifteen, with state-of-the-art technical facilities to nurture Svel’s aptitude for science. However, as the second-born of the House of Delrond, one of Coruscant’s oldest and most aristocratic families, Svel had been expected to devote his youth to Imperial service. He had done so gladly, serving five years on the Emperor’s personal Star Destroyer, often in close quarters with Palpatine himself. The Emperor had known the extreme loyalty and devotion of the Delrond family, who had spent generations locating and collecting Sith artifacts, and so had always shown Svel particular favour. Palpatine had nurtured the seed of the dark side within him, and Svel had always believed he was being groomed to take a place by his side, should anything ever happen to Lord Vader.

But Palpatine had underestimated the Rebellion, and so the Sith had once more become extinct, while the Jedi flourished under that upstart Skywalker. Svel stopped his work a moment to let his hatred for Skywalker fuel him, his absolute loathing for the man who had no breeding, no family and no history and yet was building himself a Jedi dynasty. Skywalker had to be stopped, which was why Svel had brought Fin to Tatooine. They needed to know more about the Skywalker line in order to find its weakness.

It was a conclusion Svel had come to after many years of exile. He and Fin were the only remainder of the Delrond line, and the two of them had travelled the galaxy together, searching for Sith artifacts and holocrons. It had been enough for Svel to build on the basic training the Emperor had given him to both improve his own skills and teach his son. The Peerless itself had a room full of Sith relics which Svel had meticulously studied and cataloged.

And yet, Svel knew he had not yet reached his full potential, for whilst he was a Sith, he was not yet a Dark Lord. He knew everything there was to know about the Sith of old, and yet he’d had no true master to instruct him. That honour was reserved for his son.

But Svel bore no ill will towards the boy for that. Fin had always been incredibly strong in the Force, that much had been clear ever since his son had been born. He had been such a calm baby, who had lain in Svel’s arms and looked up at him with dark, watchful eyes. It was as if Fin had felt his mother’s death bringing him into the world, and so it had drawn the boy inward. Fin was calculating, even as a child, watching everyone and everything with cool detachment.

Svel felt his son’s familiar presence approach, radiating with the dark side and the self-satisfaction of fresh knowledge. When Fin appeared Svel did not need the Force to see the triumph in his face.

“What are you doing, father?” Fin asked as he languidly made his way over to Svel’s workbench, where he had resumed work with his instruments and vials of liquid.

“You used the serum, and so I have to make more.” Svel’s tone was clipped, although he did not blame the boy for seeking out Ben Skywalker in Mos Eisley. He was Fin’s counterpoint; heir to the Jedi dynasty as Fin was heir to the SIth, and at least he was certain now that his serum worked.

Fin lifted his chin, his dark eyes alight as he refused to be rebuked. “I found it, father,” he said in reverent, hushed tones, and proceeded to explain what he had seen.

“But you don’t know who this Jedi was?” Svel questioned, abandoning his work and focusing his attention on his son.

Fin shook his head. “I felt that the Force was hiding something.”

“Something about Skywalker?” Svel questioned. “A connection perhaps?” Svel knew from the Sith histories that the Jedi had once been encamped in the northern Wastes, with the Sith in the south during the great wars. The man Fin had seen could have been any one of those Jedi, but his instincts whispered that it was closer to home.

“I don’t know,” Fin admitted. “It felt as if...it was not the right time for me to know.”

“A Sith commands the Force, Fin,” Svel chastised his son. “He is its Master. A Jedi waits for the Force to reveal its secrets - a Sith takes them.” He grabbed the air for emphasis. “You know this.”

Fin nodded, his uncertainty fading into determination. “I will find out who this Jedi was, father,” he promised.

“We will find out.” Svel patted his son’s shoulder gently, and led him into the main living area of the ship. “I will help you.”

Svel sat down at the comm unit and looked the local data depository, looking for any information about the Tusken shrine Fin had come across. As they were deep underground he had to rely on those which he had previously downloaded, unable to access the holonet due to the interference the rock caused with some of the ship's systems. His son sat at the dejarik table and played against an automated droid, making his moves quickly and flipping a credit between his fingers while the droid calculated. Fin had never been one for diligent research, preferring to rely on his psychomentric abilities to feel an answer.

“The Force led me there,” Fin spoke up after a long silence. “It wanted me to find that shrine, and see what had taken place there.”

“Yes?” Svel slipped through the screens of local histories, news, water prices and podracing scores going back one hundred years. There was no mention of the Tusken shrine.

“I know that I am meant to use the Force for my own purposes, and not follow it like the Jedi do,” Fin continued, slouching slightly against the lounge. “But what if I need to follow it to ensure that whatever is meant to happen, does?”

Svel sighed and stopped his scrolling, turning back to his son. Perhaps it was Svel’s own fault, he had guided the boy for so long and that, coupled with Fin’s own shrewd nature, had made him naturally turn to the Force for guidance, rather than knowing what he wanted and demanding it of the Force.

“What is meant to happen is not always what does,” Svel reminded him. “Even what is foreseen can be changed. If things had happened the way they were meant to, my son, you might never have been born.”

Fin sat up a little higher. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that when I was not much younger than you I was meant to inherit a title and estates. I was a decorated Captain in the Imperial Navy and served with the Emperor himself.” Svel eyed his son carefully. “And I was betrothed to the youngest daughter of the Ravenlok House.”

There was a flicker of recognition in Fin’s eyes, and Svel gave him a moment to search his memory for the name. “The Ravenloks were traitors,” he responded eventually, and Svel nodded in return.

“They defected during the Invasion of Coruscant,” Svel said with bitterness. “And she married some worthless Rebel.” The fall of such a fine and noble family hurt Svel more than her personal betrayal of him. He’d barely known her. “And yet here you are because what was meant to happen did not, and you are as strong in the Force as you are because another woman was your mother.”

They did not speak of her much, because Fin never asked and Svel did not like to share his memories freely. His Laila had been striking, with honied blonde hair and steel grey eyes; beauty tempered by ruthlessness. Following the death of the Emperor and the capture of Coruscant by the Alliance, Svel had sought refuge with the Nightsisters of Dathomir, the only other practitioners of the dark side he knew of. Laila had claimed him as her mate, but a genuine affection quickly grew between them and he had convinced her to leave the planet with him in search of other Sith teachings.

“So do not look to the Force for guidance,” Svel told his son, whose reaction was in keeping with his character, to quietly absorb the information for later contemplation. “Listen to what it has to say,” he continued, “but bend it to your own will. What is meant to be is whatever you demand.”

Fin looked up from the dejarik table, his dark eyes forever calculating and cold. “Yes, father.”

 

on the flashback. A trek through the Myrkr forest begins

~~

Enjoyed the deeper glimpse into Svel and Fin's back-story and personal and Sithly motivations.

 

Great scene with the villains! I'm interesting in learning more about them, especially how someone like Svel might react to another "traitor", like Mara.

And I love the flashback; I'm in the middle of rereading Heir to the Empire right now, and just started the Myrkr scenes.

 

With the flashbacks you are almost telling two stories in one. Great job!

 

Well, now, lady you know I LOVE THIS. This is my new head-canon, yup, yup, yup. I adore the flashbacks. It's such a delight to see what happened in the past and how it impacted the future we're reading now. I love how all the characters are entwined with the Ravenlok house and Svel. I love how Svel has a connection to the Emperor. I wonder what Mara would think of that. It's so much of a better way to include the Emperor than Dark Empire. And Fin's section was so powerful, how he saw the 'Dragon' and felt the imprint of what had happened there. This is masterful, gal. Have I mentioned that I LOVE THIS FIC? Cause, you know, I do.

 

Great update. I loved the flashback scenes; especially when Mara admired Luke's quick draw.

 

She'll come to admire his quickness in another facet later too

 

Good update! I'm liking both the flashbacks and the villains.

 

Thanks! The trek begins, but it will be slightly different from TTT

Thank you! I've tried to capture the spirit of HtoE, but with my own spin - for one thing the power dynamic, this time Luke is the one with the weapon, not Mara, and she doesn't need to keep him alive quite so much as she did in Legends

Thanks! To be honest I've had my doubts about the dual narrative and wonder if I should have just let the main story infer the altered history, but I'm just enjoying re-writing the EU so much

Thanks lady! You know all my secrets

Thank you! Luke's pretty capable even without the Force, so it was good for Mara to see that

Thanks! I'm glad you like the villains, I always find antagonists harder to write.

 

Tags: Gemma


Chapter 10


1 NRE

They’d been walking for hours, and Mara had felt Luke Skywalker’s eyes on her the whole time. Perhaps he was simply being vigilant, in case she made good on her threat to try and take the blaster from him. And yet, there was something else behind his eyes, a burning curiosity about who she was and why exactly she hated him so much.

Mara was biding her time. He had been correct that she had a better chance of making it back to the base with him than alone, and she wasn’t about to take a chance with Karrde’s life unnecessarily. And she couldn’t deny that she was curious about him, for in the few days she’d known him Skywalker had proved himself intelligent, skilled and capable, yet also self-effacing and gregarious. It was at odds with everything she had ever been taught about the Jedi, and so Mara believed that it had to be a front; a feight so she would let down her guard.

“Would you like some water?” Skywalker held out a canteen to her, and Mara shook her head and kept walking, quickening her pace. Skywalker shrugged and took a sip from the canteen before stowing it in the pack of supplies he’d gathered from the shuttle. “Suit yourself.”

Skywalker matched her quick strides. “So I guess we can expect NR forces waiting for us back at the base,” he said conversationally, but she had learned that his genial and unassuming questions always hid a search for information.

Mara huffed. “If your government permits unauthorised occupation of a private organisation’s compound, I guess so.”

“Well your organisation is hardly legal, from what I understand,” Skywalker answered evenly. “So it could otherwise be described as a raid on a criminal base of operations to rescue a private citizen being held against his will.”

“They must want you back badly, Skywalker,” Mara said, ignoring his jibe. “They sent a Star Destroyer after you.” Let him build his confidence, she thought to herself. It would be his undoing, as it was for all the Jedi before him.

“I have good friends,” Skywalker smiled. “They must have been worried about me.”

Briefly, Mara’s thoughts turned to Karrde back at the shuttle. She was sure that his injury was not serious, or at least would not be if they got help in time. And yet she couldn’t help but worry.

“He’ll be alright, Mara,” Skywalker said, putting his hand on her arm.

Mara shrugged it off violently, once again unnerved that he seemed to have no difficulty reading the focus of her thoughts, even without the Force. She’d always thought she had a better sabacc face than that. She quickened her pace again, but this time Skywalker stayed a few steps behind her.

“Why do you want to kill me?” he asked, a note of pain in his voice. “You don’t even know me.”

“I’ve seen the propaganda,” she told him bitterly. “Luke Skywalker,” she continued mockingly. “Long-lost son of Clone Wars hero, makes a one-in-a-million shot to destroy the Death Star and doesn’t even use his targeting computer. Rescues a princess and it turns out she’s his sister.” Mara scoffed. “It’s like a holofilm.”

“Those are the things I’ve done,” he replied evenly. “It’s not who I am.”

“I know exactly who you are,” she turned and practically spat back to him. “After you blew up the Death Star the Emperor had me research you – I know all about you.” She advanced on him until they were face to face. “But at the end of the day, you’re just a stupid farmboy from some worthless dustball who got lucky a couple of times.”

“I don’t disagree.” There was a world of pain in his clear blue eyes which Mara chose to ignore. She turned and once again resumed her quick pace. They walked for a few more minutes before he spoke again.

“So you worked for the Emperor,” he said casually. “I mean, obviously you were an Imperial, but…” he trailed off, as if unsure of what to say.

Mara seethed at herself for letting that slip. What was it about this man that made her forget all of her training? Had she settled into the comparatively easy role of a smuggler too well, her wits dulled and formerly acute senses dimmed?

“Yes, I worked for the Emperor,” deciding that she might as well tell him. “I was his Hand.”

“His what?” Skywalker stopped and when she turned again he looked at her quizzically.

“The Emperor’s Hand,” Mara clarified, her shoulders straightening at the title. Skywalker however still looked confused, and she sighed. He really was just a dumb farmboy, she thought, and wondered how this idiot had been able to escape her.“The Emperor commands, and the Hand obeys.”

“And what did he command you to do?” Skywalker contemplated her, his head cocking slightly to the side.

“Anything that needed to be done. Reconnaissance, investigation, covert operations.” She looked at him squarely. “Assassination.”

Luke seemed unfazed, or at the very least gave a very good impression of it. “And how did you come by this line of work?” he asked.

“I was raised for it,” she told him shortly, and finally Skywalker reacted, looking away and rubbing his chin as if in contemplation. “Are you surprised, Jedi?”

When he looked back at her there was pity in his gaze. “That Palpatine would take a young child and raise her to kill?” he shook his head slowly. “No, it doesn’t surprise me at all.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Mara seethed at his insinuation. “He saw the potential in me, gave me the opportunity to serve and rewarded me with prestige and respect.”

Skywalker’s brow furrowed. “What potential could he see in a child...” Comprehension dawned on his face, and he looked at her with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. “You have the Force.”

Mara allowed herself a smug smile at finally having one over on him. “Did you think you were the only one?”

“Were you his apprentice?” he asked, ignoring her jibe. For the first time, he looked a little uneasy in her presence.

“Don’t you know anything, Jedi,” she said dismissively. “There are never more than two Sith.”

Skywalker looked relieved. “But he trained you to use the Force.”

“To serve the Empire,” Mara insisted. She’d had no desire to become a Sith, or take Vader’s place at her Master’s side. She’d only wanted to help maintain peace and order in an unruly galaxy and the Force had been a tool at her disposal. And yes, she had enjoyed the lifestyle it had afforded her, but it was adequate reward for her hard work.

“No,” Skywalker shook his head. “To serve him.”

“There was no difference,” Mara maintained. Palpatine was the Empire.

“If you say so.” Skywalker looked pensive, and she could almost see him working things out in his mind. “And he ordered you to kill me.”

Mara recoiled within herself, shame once again pressing against that barely-healed wound. “It’s the only order I’ve never been able to carry out.” She had failed to kill Skywalker, and so the Emperor had been defeated, and the Empire had fallen. It had all been her fault.

“That’s it?” Skywalker asked with revulsion. “You want to kill me because Palpatine asked you to?” He shook his head as if in disbelief. “He’s dead, Mara.”

“Because of you,” Mara spat at him, anger flaming anew. “You killed him – my Master, the man who raised me. He who ended the Clone Wars, who saved the galaxy from tearing itself apart.”

Skywalker’s face creased with sorrow and concern. He sat down on a nearby rock and sighed heavily. “I didn’t kill him, Mara.”

“Don’t lie to me like you lie to the holopress, Skywalker,” she said, taking a step towards him. “You can claim that Vader killed the Emperor all you like to keep your saintly Jedi image. I don’t buy it. You took away everything that was important to me and assassinated the legitimate ruler of the galaxy – even if I hadn’t been ordered to, I would be justified in killing you for that.”

“Palpatine was a tyrant,” Skywalker said calmly, looking up at her. “He may have been the legitimate Chancellot, but no one elected him Emperor. Then he maintained his power by subjecting non-humans to torture and slavery, dismantling democracy and killing everyone who opposed him.”

She had heard those lies before from Rebel propaganda. It was true that the Empire’s laws and control was far more stringent than the Old Republic’s, but they were also far more effective. The Senate had been a den of corruption and the federations and guilds had amassed far too much power, allowing the Separatist movement to take hold. As Palpatine had told her many times, he had tried to reform the system from within, but even he could not fix what was irrevocably broken and fundamentally flawed. A new government was needed, one that was strong and powerful and actually able to protect its citizens. Perhaps in return they’d had less freedoms, but it was a fair exchange for security.

“You claim the moral high ground,” Mara challenged him. “And yet it was the Jedi who tried to assassinate Palpatine, and seize power for themselves.”

“I guarantee you they did not,” Skywalker said resolutely. “But for the sake of argument, say a few Jedi Masters took it upon themselves to attempt assassination of the Chancellor and stage a coup, did that justify the massacre of every Jedi in the galaxy? Even the younglings?”

“You must eradicate a weed at the roots, lest it grow again, and stronger.” Mara folded her arms together and stared him down.

“You say that from rote,” Skywalker observed. “But I do not think you believe it.”

Mara turned away from him, thick anger bubbling within her. How dare he presume to tell her what she believed? For a moment, all the possible ways to kill him flew through her mind in order to silence his lying mouth. Even though he had his lightsaber and blaster, Mara felt sure she could do it, catch him off guard and use her belt as a garotte, or snap his neck; she even knew the exact place on a man’s head where a single punch would end him.

“Order 66 was a genocide, only the first of many,” Skywalker continued, impassioned and seemingly unaware of the murderous turn of her thoughts. “I regret the lives I have taken, and acted only when absolutely necessary. If you think Palpatine felt anything other than pleasure for every being he enslaved or every life he took – or ordered you to take for him – you are lying to yourself.”

Mara grasped for the Emperor’s voice in her mind, that presence who had always given her direction, who would be able to smooth over the Jedi’s lies with ease. But he was gone, his commands had been ripped from her consciousness two years ago when the Death Star had been destroyed. The day Skywalker had killed him.

And yet...Mara wasn’t so sure about that anymore. She turned back to face Skywalker, and saw that he had risen, his eyes bright and challenging, his jaw firmly set. It had been easy to see the moment with the blaster had been a bluff, and she was certain that if she attacked him he would harm her only as a last, desperate act to save his own life. The man she had observed over the past few days did not seem capable of killing the Emperor, he seemed far too gentle a soul for that. And yet he had killed, she reminded herself, he had just admitted it. Luke Skywalker had ended every life on the first Death Star, and countless more in the years since.

“It’s you and your Rebels who dragged the galaxy back into a civil war,” Mara countered, forcing her anger down to be saved for later. “What was necessary about that? You killed the Emperor among countless other innocents. You took everything from me,” she continued bitterly. “My Emperor, my purpose, my security. You destroyed my life.”

Skywalker sighed and looked down at his boots for a moment, and when his gaze rose to hers again, it was resigned. “And what purpose will killing me serve?” he asked calmly. “It will not bring the Emperor back, or reinstate his Empire. If you’re searching for closure, Mara, I suggest you look within.”

Mara clenched a fist, her eyes lingering on the pulse point in Skywalker’s throat. She could wrap her hands around it and crush his windpipe, steal his last breath so he would trouble her no more. In fulfilling her Master’s last command, she would redeem herself and finally be able to move on. That would be closure. And justice, and retribution.

But Karrde…

She turned back around so violently her braid spun around and whipped her in the face. Mara ignored the sting and began to walk again, trying to quell her murderous desire, promising herself that once they were close enough to the base, she would finish it.

“Mara - ” Skywalker caught up and tugged at her arm.

“Don’t call me that,” she shot back venomously, pulling her arm from his grip and quickening her pace.

“Don’t call you by your name?”

“Don’t call me anything,” she ordered him. “Don’t talk to me.”

For once, he complied, and they continued to walk in silence through the forest.



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29 NRE


The Calling Karrde was a small space station in orbit over the planet Rodan. The gas giant was only a few light years from Coruscant and was also orbited by four small uninhabitable moons. As such the system had never been of much interest to anyone in the Empire or either Republic. But to Talon Karrde, who had lived outside of all systems of government, it had demonstrated potential.

Micah’s rooms on the Calling Karrde were small, certainly not as comfortable as his rooms in the family apartment on Coruscant, but more luxurious than his quarters at NRI headquarters had been, and vastly superior to the hovels he’d once inhabited on Corellia. There was even a viewscreen with a seat below, allowing Micah to look out to the stars and watch the lightening storms on Rodan below, and it was often where he could be found during his downtime. It helped him think.

He leaned back into the seat, eyes fixed on the swirls of green gas and blue lightning. Karrde had hired the best engineers in the galaxy to work on the station and funnel the electricity generated by the planet into the Calling Karrde’s power systems, making it completely self-sufficient. Although his organisation was not officially part of the New Republic government, it was sanctioned by it, although not to the extent that Karrde felt safe with a base of operations on Coruscant or any other Core world. Rather, he liked the flexibility of his own space station which was able to move throughout the galaxy as he pleased. Micah had always admired Karrde’s shrewdness on the issue. In fact, as a young boy his mother had often brought him to the station to visit “Uncle Talon” and ever since then Micah had been fascinated by the sleek silver corridors and numerous viewscreens from which one could view the violently powerful planet below.

The storms which shook the surface of Rodan seemed to reflect Micah’s tumultuous mood. He raised one of his hands palm up and wiggled his fingers, calling to him with the Force a set of three metallic balls which lay on Micah’s desk. They had been a gift from his father to aid in meditation, but Micah did not use them for their intended purpose, instead juggling them in the air beside him. His mother would have chastised him for unnecessary use of the Force, but Micah didn’t particularly care. He was not a Jedi, and so did not need to follow their rules. The Force was a tool, nothing more, and Micah did not fear casual use of it.

There was a firm but insistent knock at the door. “Come in,” Micah called, and was not surprised when the door opened to reveal Shada D’ukal. She was tall, with sleek black hair and equally dark eyes which catalogued everything she saw. Her tan skin was smooth despite the fact she was Micah’s parent’s age, and she rarely smiled although Micah had learned to read the miniscule changes in her expression which indicated her moods.

“Micah,” Shada greeted him, and raised an eyebrow when she saw the juggling balls suspended in the air. “Being productive, I see.”

Micah waved his hand and the balls returned to their place on his desk. He shrugged dismissively. “I’ve exhausted holonet and database research,” he said. “If Karrde would let me go back to Coruscant…” he trailed off, knowing it would make no difference. He’d been able to comm Mara earlier that day, and Micah was relieved that she seemed to be back to her usual self. Still, he had heard that plaintive note of worry in her voice, for him, for his father, and for Ben. “But he thinks that Mum won’t let me leave again if I go back,” he looked up at Shada and saw confirmation in her eyes.

“That, and you’re likely to get caught up in Jedi or NRI business,” she said evenly. “You’re more help to everyone here.”

“It doesn’t seem like I’m being much help to anyone,” Micah grumbled.

“Well that’s about to change,” Shada advised him and beckoned for him to follow her. “Karrde wants to see you.”

Micah leapt to his feet and eagerly followed Shada to Karrde’s office at the apex of the station. It was large and ornate, with huge viewscreens filling up the walls and intimidating all who entered. Karrde sat behind a large and antique desk he’d liberated from some planet or another, the wood embedded with an assortment of data displays, screens, switches and buttons so Karrde could run the entire station. In a bind he could even pilot the station and navigate a jump into hyperspace. A number of large armchairs circled the space in front of Karrde’s desk, and when they were filled it almost gave the impression he was holding court.

When Shada and Micah entered, however, there was only one other being present; a small furry biped with reddish brown fur and a dignified bearing.

“Ah, come in,” Karrde beckoned them closer, and the creature turned it’s large black eyes to them appraisingly. “I’d like you to meet and old friend of mine - Teelin, of the planet Drall.” Karrde turned to his companion. “Teelin, my associates, Shada Du’kal and Micah Jade.”

Micah had found it useful to known professionally by his mother’s name rather than his father’s. The name Skywalker never failed to cause a reaction, and although his mother’s surname was also well known, it was common enough that people seldom made the connection.

“I see you wear bloodstripes,” Teelin observed, his dark gaze flittering over the yellow piping down the sides of Micah’s trousers. “Did you serve with the Corellian military?”

Micah eyed the drall. “I assure you I was awarded them legitimately.”

Teelin laughed and turned back to Karrde. “The boy is as tight-lipped as you, Karrde.”

Karrde smiled shrewdly. “A vital trait in our line of work.”

“I did not mean to impugn your honour, young Jade,” Teelin continued with a genial smile, although his sharp teeth gave him a sinister look. “Perhaps one day you will tell me of how you came to earn those stripes.”

Micah forced a smile in return. “Perhaps.”

“Perhaps we can move on from this scintillating topic of conversation?” Shada suggested dryly.

“Yes, of course,” Teelin bowed his head deferentially, but Micah still felt his curious gaze. “I have some information about the attack on Corellia. No doubt you’ve heard that the Human League has claimed responsibility.”

Micah looked at Karrde curiously - he had not in fact heard that.

“It’s just reached us over the holonet,” Karrde answered, avoiding Micah’s gaze. “Although I of course suspected.” It must have been recent news, Micah mused, since he’d been on the holonet only a few hours previous.

“I thought the Human League had been defeated years ago?” Micah queried. He’d been a small child at the time, but his Uncle Han had told him many stories about it and he’d met many who’d lived through the crisis in his own time on the planet.

“It appears that they’ve had a resurgence,” Teelin said distastefully.

“Under new leadership, perhaps?” Shada asked in a tone that indicated it was anything but a question. “Or rather, revived leadership.”

Teelin’s smile faded somewhat. “Ah, perhaps my journey was a waste?”

“Of course not, my old friend,” Karrde said smoothly. “It is a logical assumption, but we would welcome confirmation and details.” He thumbed a switch on his desk and the doors to the office opened. “Shada will take you to the mess, and you can discuss price over a bottle of our finest emerald wine.”

Teelin hopped out of his chair and walked with Shada towards the exit. Micah went to follow, but Shada gave him a sharp look and inclined her head, instructing him to stay. He waited until the doors had firmly shut behind the pair before turning back to Karrde expectantly.

The man himself was inscrutable as ever, although he gave Micah a small smile. “How have you been getting along, Micah?” he asked in an easy tone that raised Micah’s ire.

“How have I been getting along?” he asked somewhat incredulously. “Let’s see - you send me back to Coruscant so I can be with my family, then call me back almost immediately.” Micah waved his hands as his temper bubbled with every word. “Then I sit round for a week or so doing mindless research and you don’t even grace me with your presence. You know I promised Aunt Leia I would look into the Corellian matter, but you don’t share your suspicions about it with me. So how am I getting alone? Not well.”

Micah exhaled harshly and collapsed with frustration into one of the armchairs in front of Karrde’s desk.

“If you’re quite finished?” Karrde asked calmly. “You know, you look just like your mother when you’re angry.”

Micah scowled - he hated to be compared to either of his parents, and Karrde knew that. Which meant he had said so deliberately.

“But Mara always understood that if I kept something from her, it was for good reason,” Karrde continued, and Micah shifted in his seat, slightly chastised. Then Karrde sighed, leaning forward on his desk and giving Micah a kindly look. “But she had harsher lessons growing up to learn that - experiences that I would not wish upon you, my boy.” He sighed again and leaned back into his chair, regarding Micah thoughtfully.

“I sent you back to Coruscant because one should be with family when they can,” he said after a short silence. “But then the attack on Corellia happened, and I knew I would need you here. You did not see me before because I was making enquiries of my own. I did not ask you to look into the Human League first because I wanted to sure that there was no other avenue we should pursue and I did not want to cloud you research with my suspicions. Are those explanations satisfactory?”

Micah made an effort to sit up straighter in his chair and recover a modicum of professionalism. Karrde had given him reasonable explanations when he’d been under no obligation to do so, and Micah cursed his earlier words brought on my impulsive frustration.

“Yes,” he answered, knowing that no further words or apology was needed.

“Good,” Karrde nodded, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “I want you to go Corellia and look into the Human League. But observation only, Micah,” Karrde warned him. “This is not an undercover mission.”

“Why not?” Micah asked. Surely that was his unique skills in the company, and he certainly knew the planet well enough to pull it off. “I’ve done it before.”

“Not when a relative is the leader of the organisation you are trying to infiltrate,” Karrde said seriously, and leaded forward on his desk again. “Surely you’ve heard of your Uncle Han’s cousin," Karrde continued, fixing Micah with a knowing stare. "A man by the name of Thracken Sal-Solo.”

 

good chapter. can't wait to see what happens next. you know i'm wondering do you watch the show "Arrow"? because your story kinda reminds of that show on how they use flashbacks to detail Oliver Queen's time away from Starling City.