Out
of the Shadows 21
There
was a faint mechanical humming in the air, as well as the customary smell of
antiseptic as Lando Calrissian hurriedly walked into the bright whiteness of the
intensive care unit at Cloud City Medical.
“You
called me?” he asked his cyborg aide, Lobot. “I thought that everything was
under control.”
The
bald-headed man did not turn from his observation of what was taking place on
the other side of the transparisteel barrier. “Normally I would not interrupt
but…”
“Is
this the victim?” Lando stared through the clear partition at the vulnerable
figure lying on the operating table.
“Yes,
Lando. I was interfacing with the
“And
you chose to deal with it personally?”
“Yes,
Lando.” The cyborg’s face remained impassive as he slowly turned to face his
boss. “I did.”
“Why?”
Lobot’s
limited vocabulary struggled to explain. “He is not considered to be a normal
human by many parameters. “
“Not
considered normal?” Lando crossed his arms in front of his chest. “In what
way?”
“He
is considered to be different.”
“And
he was attacked because of this?” Lando didn’t find Lobot’s explanation
particularly helpful.
“Yes.”
“What’s
happening now?” Lando gestured towards the figure of the 2-IB and his FX
assistant droids hovering around the motionless human.
“He
is fixing what was broken.”
“Do
we know who the old man was?”
“Is,
Lando - is. The man is not dead. He is still alive.” Lights flashed on the
device attached to Lobot’s shiny bald head. “He is a tibanna gas prospector
and his name is Streen.”
“Streen,
eh!” Lando tapped his fingers together lightly, thinking hard. “I’ve heard
the name before. Where and why have I heard his name before?”
“His
name is legendary amongst the beings that scour Bespin for riches.”
“That
is Streen?” Lando recalled where he had heard the name before. This man should
be one of the wealthiest beings in the galaxy. The Fx medical assistant droid
wheeled away carrying a pile of shapeless, colourless garments to the
incinerator in one of its many arms. “He doesn’t look like a successful
entrepreneur to me. He appears more like a beggar off the streets and we don’t
have many of them in
“Gives
them away.”
“Vader’s
black helmet!” Lando exclaimed. “You are joking?”
“No,
Lando. I do not joke. He keeps enough to live on and gives the rest away. I
don’t know where or to what.” The lights on Lobot’s headpiece flashed in a
set sequence. “He was found on Tibannopolis.”
Lando
sighed. “They probably thought that they’d killed him. The dead don’t
willingly tell tales. Was he alone?”
“Yes.
His attackers – whoever they were – had left.”
“Will
he recover?”
“Yes.
He was fortunate.”
“Why
exactly did you call me?” Lando asked wearily, checking his jewelled wrist
chrono, his interest waning. He’d been indulging in the luxury of what he’d
hoped would be an uninterrupted sleep cycle. Someone had beaten up an old man
who had obviously been unable to defend himself. He wasn’t the first and would
not be the last. It was a rough galaxy out there. But such occurrences were rare
on Bespin. Too many of the inhabitants had run from some other place and
didn’t want to draw unwelcome attention to themselves. Lando rubbed his face
tiredly, willing himself to stay awake. There was definitely something he was
missing. “Was it because this old hermit-gas prospector was found nearly
beaten to death on Tibannopolis and not on Bespin?” he wondered aloud.
Lobot’s
face didn’t change its blank expression but there was a sense of something
incomprehensible in his voice. “No.”
“It’s
a wonder he was found at all,” Lando mused quietly, his dark eyes fixed on the
still figure. “I thought Tibannopolis was deserted now – a ghost town.”
“He
managed to call for help and someone passing picked him up.”
“Someone
passing!” Lando let out another exasperated sigh. “No one just passes
Tibannopolis – not any more. But why contact me over this? Usually security
deals with this type of incident.”
“He
is still alive, Lando.” Lobot was unable to explain the need to give this
piece of information again to his boss.
“So
he is – you said that.” The Baron-Administrator of Bespin’s
Lobot’s
speech centres had exhausted their limited patterns of conversation. But he
tried to make the dark skinned man understand that something important still had
to be said. “When he awakes, you must communicate.” The cyborg gave a small
bow and left Lando staring at the old man’s fragile form being transferred by
floatation bed from the operating theatre to the recovery ward.
‘Streen,’
he thought again, his brow furrowing contemplatively. He now remembered who the
old man was. But why had he been so savagely attacked? He had never harmed
anyone as far as Lando was aware. Moving to a computer terminal he punched the
old man’s name into it with an impatient finger. For a moment nothing happened
and then the computer began to spit out various pieces of information including
a grainy holo of an old man with unkempt grey hair who squinted warily into the
camera and then shuffled away out of sight.
This
poor old man was a cloud prospector. According to the report he lived
alone on the abandoned shell of Tibannopolis and waited until a lucrative cloud
of volatile gases burst forth from Bespin. Lando frowned, chewing his lip as a
piece of information on the screen gave him pause for thought. This was
interesting – very interesting.
At
certain times in the lunar cycle, depending on where you looked, a storm or a
deep atmospheric upheaval made the gases belch upwards where they were siphoned
off. Streen searched the skies above Bespin in a primitive vessel for his
reward.
Lando
pursed his lips. His own company had computerised satellites in place that
detected these surges and dispatched his own men to collect the gas when the
data indicated a surge. There were several other companies ruthless in their
pursuit of the wealth Tibanna gas could bring. But frequently, Streen managed to
get there first, long before any of the others. It was as if he knew that a
particular cloud was going to discharge its treasure at that exact moment. The
old man worked on his own and had little or no equipment. How could he know
exactly when the gas would burst forth?
There
was only one real answer to the conundrum. Streen had to have worked out a
failsafe method of detecting the gases. Other less scrupulous beings had somehow
discovered the old man’s secret and had tried to persuade him to share that
knowledge. Streen must have refused and paid the price.
Lando
knew that he should do something about Tibannopolis. It had once hoped to rival
He
peered at some data which had appeared before him on the screen. “He reads the
wind!” he said aloud. “That’s how he predicts the gas eruption? By reading
the wind? How can someone read the wind?” Streen would have
to be a Jedi or something similar to have such abilities. The way he could
predict the gas surges was uncanny…like magic or…the Force.
Lando
straightened up and paused for thought. Could this old man be able to tap into
the Force? Was he… a Jedi?
Lobot
had said that Streen ‘was not like other humans’. Lando swivelled sharply on
his heels and headed towards the recovery room. “Doctor!” he said
peremptorily.
“Yes,
Baron-Administrator Calrissian,” the droid answered evenly.
“Keep
the patient here until he is fully healed…and I mean fully healed.”
“Of
course.”
“Good.
Inform me when he’s regained consciousness. Do not let him leave the med bay
until I have spoken with him. Keep him under guard…for his own safety, of
course, if you have to.”
“Certainly,
Baron-Administrator Calrissian.”
Lando
moved quickly back to his office and switched on his computer terminal.
“Contact Princess Leia Organa on Coruscant for me, please.”
Leia
had said that when her brother returned to civilisation he would be looking for
potential Jedi recruits and she’d put out a notice to that effect just a
couple of months earlier. That was if Luke did come back. He’d been gone a
long time without any intimation of a return date and Lando had received the
impression from the young Jedi before he left that Luke didn’t want to be at
the beck and call of the
If
Streen had Jedi abilities Luke might want to speak to the guy. It couldn’t
hurt to let the princess know.
The
computer’s smooth voice announced pleasantly, “Your call, Baron.”
“Leia!”
His voice became smoother as he turned on his legendary charisma.
“Lando,
what can I do for you?” Leia’s voice was dry, her way of countering
Lando’s unctuous charm.
“You
are truly as beautiful and gracious as ever. Han’s a lucky man.”
“I’m
sure he knows that,” Leia said smoothly, resisting the urge to shake her head
and laugh. Lando meant to be charming.
“I’m
sure that he does. However the reason I’m calling is that this time, it’s
what I can do for you.”
A
favour from Lando? Leia cocked her head to one side. “I’m listening.”
“Well,
your highness, I think I’ve found a potential Jedi candidate for you.”
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Coruscant
“Be
ready my hand. Death shall not stop me.”
“Yes,
my master.”
“You
must prevent the Jedi from rising again.”
“I
will obey. They will fail.”
“They
would seek out your kind and destroy you without mercy if unchecked.”
“They
will not be allowed that luxury. They will die, paying for their many crimes
against you, my Emperor, and your glorious empire.”
“I
will return when you have prepared the way for my coming. The power of the dark
side has been weakened. It needs to grow strong again. You know what to do…the
signal will awake those who serve.”
“I
do and will make the necessary preparations.”
“Chaos
fosters desperation, fear and suffering, allowing the dark side to rebuild
itself. Make your way to my stronghold and wait for me there when the time is
right. I will contact you again when I am ready but for now I
must regain my strength.”
“Of
course, my Master.”
“You
must travel to where my power grows,” the voice thundered inside her head.
“Your
seat of power?” she asked in confusion. She was already there. Coruscant was
still her home.
“The
true place I call my home.”
Understanding
dawned. The Emperor’s world - Byss.
“The
time is not yet right.” The voice hissed.
“I
have already begun to make my preparations. Master…”
I
hope these are necessary to our plans.”
“They
are, my Master.”
“I
sense some conflict within you. You do not doubt our cause?”
“No,
but…”
“Speak,
my hand. I sense your uncertainty.”
“There
is another.”
“Another!”
She
had once thought that she’d been the only one of her kind until logic and
reason had prevailed. Palpatine had sent her throughout the galaxy doing his
bidding but she’d maintained the cover of her chosen profession. It now made
perfect sense that he had others also willing to serve him. Certainly he had
been all powerful but it was still not physically possible for him to be in
every place in the galaxy. She hadn’t suspected, until recently, that there
were others still alive. What had they been doing while she toiled to avenge her
Master? Why had they deserted him in his hour of need? He had taught her that
death was merely another step in life and that he would return to drive the
usurpers from the Imperial throne and once again rule from his magnificent
palace in the heart of the jewel of the galaxy.
“Seek
out this being.”
“I
will, my Master.”
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Dagobah
Tired
and fretful after her accident and subsequent dealings with the young Jedi, Mara
had retired to her cabin on board her ship, but sleep was a long time coming.
When it finally arrived, she slept fitfully, tossing and turning as strange
images flitted through her mind.
“Mara!”
She
was back at the lake where she’d first glimpsed Luke Skywalker, a place she
now recognised as being on Dagobah, the place she and her ship were now
residing. But it wasn’t the Jedi’s compact, muscular figure that she could
see before her. It was the older Jedi, the one who had appeared to her once
before on Coruscant - Qui Gon Jinn. Mara was reluctantly coming to the
conclusion that her future was to be linked to the Jedi in some way or another
and it was a little confusing to say the least.
“Mara!”
“Qui-Gon
Jinn.” Mara mumbled his name in her sleep.
“The
son of Skywalker needs your help.”
“I
have to kill him,” she whispered. This was a dream – it had to be. Mara
began to fight her way out of her sleep. If it wasn’t going to be restful; she
might as well wake herself up. But she was held where she was in the strange
limbo between sleep and wakefulness.
“No,
the Sith have poisoned your mind and destroyed your memories. Seek the truth; it
is in your power to do so.”
Her
eyes snapped open. “You could just tell me and put me out of my misery.”
“Would
you believe me? I think not.”
Damn!
She was awake now and this Qui-Gon Jinn was still there. It wasn’t just a
dream. “No one has poisoned my mind.”
“The
Emperor did. Who are your parents, Mara Jade? Where did you come from? You are
not an evil person at heart. Why did Palpatine raise you to be like this? Are
you happy and are you free?” Qui-Gon’s
face was full of sorrow. “Where are you going with your life, Mara? What is
your future to be?”
“I
don’t know but at least I have one.”
“Let
the boy help you and you will have a future.”
“Skywalker!
Why should I?”
“It
is the will of the Force, Padawan.”
Mara’s
eyes began to feel very heavy and fluttered closed. She tossed uneasily in her
narrow bunk as the vision faded and finally, she lay quiet and still.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
“Think
you that she listened, Qui-Gon?”
“I
don’t know, Master Yoda.”
“Feels
much for her the boy does. Important to him she is.”
“But
he’s only just met her.”
“Long
ago in his mind knew her he did. Hope for her he has. Trust him we must.
Succeeded the boy did despite our fears. His father he is not.”
“I
never doubted him.”
Another voice entered the conversation.
“My
padawan,” Qui-Gon
Jinn’s mouth tilted upwards in a smile, “…likes to have the last
word.”
“Is
that such a bad thing?” Obi-Wan
asked whimsically. “But I have to say that this time; the boy is taking a
risk.”
“Took
a risk with him we did,”
Yoda said slowly. “In his hands the Jedi are. Help him she will.”
“I
agree,” Qui-Gon’s
measured tones said evenly. “Palpatine’s teachings have confused her but
she is not evil. There is a pureness of heart within her.”
“In
that goodness, hope we must.”
Yoda‘s face lifted to the two former Jedi that stood with him. “Like his
father he is. For love her he does.”
“His
love is different – will be different,”
Obi-Wan said firmly as if he was trying to convince himself as well as the other
two Jedi Masters.
Yoda
sighed. “Difficult times ahead has he. Told you I did, like his father he
is and love he does but also his father he is not.”
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Mara
opened her eyes and stared up at the rivet-studded ceiling of her cabin in The
Lucky Strike. Another strange dream! She’d been on this strange
world of silvery white mists and deceptively deep swamps for two whole days and
for a supposedly extinct order, the Jedi she’d found were still alive –
well, one of them was. Yoda had lingered long enough to check her over as if she
was some sort of specimen before disappearing.
The
old Jedi Master’s demise had nothing to do with Mara’s arrival on Dagobah,
more’s the pity. Her Master would have been exceedingly pleased with her had
she managed to rid the galaxy of Yoda.
Skywalker
had suspected he was holding on for something and had decided, in what she
concluded had to be a typical Jedi addle-brained fashion, that the reason was
her. Yoda wanted to see her and talk to her. He was even nerf enough to suggest
it. He was lucky to still be alive. She’d taken one look at his handsome face
and had been tempted to finish him off for good.
She
might surprise Karrde, Solo and Organa yet and return Skywalker to his people.
It would be enough to finish off the
Her
hand moved to the bacta patch Skywalker had insisted remain to cover her head
wound. It wasn’t throbbing now; the dull ache she’d felt earlier had
completely vanished. Whatever he’d done, along with the bacta’s cure, must
have worked. He’d also watched her anxiously all evening and as soon as
she’d begun to visibly wilt in front of him, he’d offered her his bed again.
“Where
will you sleep?” Mara had asked. There had been something rather unsettling
about lying in the Jedi’s bed. But there hadn’t been the slightest hint of
impropriety. Skywalker was genuinely concerned over her welfare. Did the
Jedi…well…indulge in carnal pleasures? Mara immediately
slammed the lid down on those thoughts.
“I
can manage,” he said quietly. “You’re the one with the bang on the
head.”
He’d
been strangely withdrawn all evening. Mara supposed it was understandable.
He’d just lost his friend and Jedi Master and, to add to his turmoil, Mara had
managed to threaten him with his old lightsaber – one which, by rights, he’d
probably thought that he would never see again. Yes, she thought, reminders of a
traumatic experience like that would make anyone a little more subdued. Maybe he
thought she was going to produce his hand as well. No chance of that. It had
been taken away and dissected and the data stored. That was why she’d been
able to discover his relationship to Leia Organa so easily.
Mara
supposed it would be a shock to see once again the weapon which had once been
clutched in your own hand as it had been severed from your wrist disappearing
down a shaft on
He’d
handed her a plate of something which she’d eaten without really tasting it.
It hadn’t been unpleasant. Whatever it was, she supposed it was nutritious and
filling. She had learned over the past few years to eat when food was available
and not mind too much how it tasted. They’d both been full of their own
thoughts and the awkward conversation had been sparse. But Mara still couldn’t
help feeling an unwilling liking for the man and the idea gnawed at her mind.
She’d never been disloyal to her master but more and more she got the idea
that perhaps her perspective wasn’t from a truly neutral stance. She could
understand that but suppose she’d been wrong?
No!
Her mind trained by
Palpatine since early childhood rebelled at the idea. “I want to check on my
ship,” she said shortly.
“It’s
satisfactory. Or it will be with a little fine tuning.”
“You’ve
looked at my ship!” Mara said stiffening. She’d not given him permission to
do so but concern won over her outrage. “How bad is it?”
“Nothing
serious,” Luke said reassuringly, giving her that smile which was supposed to
comfort but ended up setting Mara’s teeth on edge. She didn’t want to like
him, damn it!
“Why
don’t I trust you?”
Luke
shrugged. “It’s your suspicious nature. What have I got to gain by lying to
you?” He began tidying away their utensils. “Not a thing.”
He
had her there. What, indeed. She couldn’t think of a single thing but there
had to be something. In her experience, people just weren’t that altruistic.
“Do
you want me to lie to you?”
“No,”
she said shortly.
“I
can if you want me to but I’m not very good at it and I don’t think you’ll
believe me.” Luke suddenly grinned, the smile lighting up his reserved face,
revealing exactly how young he was. She’d read all the reports. He had to be
about the same age as she was. “Come on,” Luke said. The smile died from his
lips, as she continued to stare searchingly into his face. “I’ll take you to
it. You won’t settle until you’ve seen for yourself, will you?”
“It’s
Karrde’s ship. I have to make sure I return it in one piece.”
Luke’s
expression lightened again. “Sure,” he murmured. “One piece. It was intact
when it landed but the insides might have been shaken up a little bit. Sort of
like its pilot.”
Once
there, she’d seen that he had indeed told the truth. What’s more, he claimed
to be able to fix the minor problems her ship had suffered with its rougher than
desired entry into the planet’s atmosphere. She’d lost complete control as
the ship had hurtled downwards. It should be a mass of twisted metal with its
pilot a broken corpse but instead, she was alive and the ship sat at the edge of
what was apparently a rather deceptive looking lake, the water lapping gently at
the edge of the entry ramp.
“I’ll
sleep here,” she decided, as Luke ushered her up the ramp.
“Are
you sure?”
Mara
glanced into the cockpit and wandered towards the crew area, Luke at her heels.
“Yes. Everything is intact that I need.”
Luke
frowned.
“I’m
not planning to fly out of here yet,” Mara murmured.
“I
would not advise it,” Luke said gently. “You need to rest at least another
twenty-four hours and then we do a complete systems check on your vessel.”
Her
face clouded. “Another twenty-four hours!”
“At
least,” he stated firmly. “It is safe enough where it is and the repairs
should be minor.”
“You
seem so certain,” Mara said quietly.
“I
caught the ship,” Luke answered matter-of-factly. “Therefore the damage was
minimal.”
You
caught the ship?” Mara arched a red gold eyebrow disbelievingly.
“Sure you did.”
“I
slowed its trajectory using the Force until it landed safely. So yes, I caught
it.”
He
hadn’t said it but he didn’t have to. She knew that she could have died if
he hadn’t been ready. “I was waiting for you.”
“You
knew I was coming?” Mara gasped. “How could you know that?”
“We’ve
met before,” Luke said simply.
“In
Il Avila City on Druckenwell – I remember.” Mara’s voice was low and
husky. She remembered so much about such a brief encounter. The clear colour of
his eyes as they darkened to a navy hue, the way that he’d held her close
against his hard body. Oh, yes. She remembered things about their brief meeting
on Druckenwell, in ways that she shouldn’t be thinking about.
Luke’s
eyes darkened as his voice lowered. “I sensed your presence and I’ve seen
you...”
“Seen
me?” She stared into his face, searching for the truth. They’d only met
once, how could he have seen her?
“In
my dreams.”
Mara
opened her mouth and then closed it again. He had experienced similar visions to
hers?
“You
will come to no harm here tonight. Perhaps it is a good thing to be surrounded
by what is more familiar.” He gave her an oddly formal little bow. “I will
see you tomorrow.”
Mara
watched his compact grey-clad figure vanish between the trees, leaving her alone
and wondered at the strange feeling of loneliness. Straightening her spine, Mara
shut the door release, secured it and made for her bunk, tiredness overwhelming
her.
She
must have slept far longer than she usually did. Mara raised her head groggily,
the last of the sleep clearing from her system. The chrono mounted on the wall
showed galactic time. It wasn’t much use on Dagobah. With a muttered curse,
Mara sat upright and swung her legs to the floor. She’d left her own wrist
chrono on the small table in the corner of the cabin. Her original estimation of
the time was correct. She had slept far longer than she usually did and
the nature of her dreams returned to her. Was it a dream, the appearance of Jedi
Qui-Gon Jinn or was it more - a vision perhaps? He’d seemed a little
transparent but real enough on Coruscant and he’d interacted with her.
They’d had a real conversation despite the Jedi platitudes.
The
Lucky Strike boasted a small but efficient cleansing station and, with
Dagobah’s plentiful precipitation filling her water tank, Mara was able to
indulge in a proper water shower after removing the bacta patch and carefully
washing her hair. The area around the wound was healing rapidly but still a
little tender to touch. Dressing quickly, she ignored the bruises covering her
fair skin, finally pulling on a dark green combat tunic and leggings. Munching
on a ration bar, she slapped the door release. It was time to see what Skywalker
was up to.
Dagobah
wasn’t a silent world by any means. It didn’t have cities or even an
isolated outpost boasting some sort of monitoring technology but instead it was
busy with millions upon millions of life forms all making their own contribution
to its ecosystem. The mist curled upwards from the damp, marshy ground and close
by an unidentified creature called throatily to its mate. Mara irritably slapped
away an insect that decided it might like to feast on her soft flesh.
The
walk to Skywalker’s camp only took minutes but Mara arrived to find it
deserted. Had he left her – had he actually gone and left her here on her own?
Would he dare? It was the sneaky underhanded kind of thing that a Jedi would do.
He didn’t want to die. For a moment the thought did cross her mind that he’d
left but the little she had observed of his nature made her think that he
wouldn’t do that. Her green gaze took in the sight of his shabby x-wing still
sitting delaminating in the damp air of the miserable Dagobah climate. There had
to be better places to make yourself a home.
Who
was the real Luke Skywalker? Mara hadn’t quite decided yet. ‘Know your
enemy,’ she reflected soberly. It was something her tutors had drilled into
her at every chance they got and she’d thought that she did know her enemy.
She’d amassed reams of information on the fair-haired young man but was now
wondering if it was all worthless. None of it appeared to be actually based on
the man himself. The facts of what he had achieved for the Rebellion had to be
true but he wasn’t a cold blooded killer. Palpatine had certainly not known
the man he was dealing with. Was that another reason for the Emperor’s failure
to capture and eliminate Luke Skywalker?
The
small clearing was dominated by an ancient white gnarl tree. Yoda’s home
nestled underneath the huge root structure. Skywalker had pitched a rebel
temporary survival shelter next to it and had been living in it for over three
years.
And
for what? What had the little green troll been teaching him? It must have been
very powerful as Skywalker had managed to persuade Vader to join him and
together they defeated the Emperor three years ago.
Mara
walked into what Luke Skywalker had called home for the past three years and
stared about her, taking everything in properly for the first time – the
primitive data reader which appeared to be constructed from home made scrap, the
huge amount of discs and holobooks, many of which Mara recognised from the
Emperor’s private library which on special occasions he had allowed her to
use. “I suppose he had to do something here to pass away his time,” she
muttered to herself. She’d never thought of Skywalker as the scholarly type.
But his sister had said that he’d always had a book in his hands once he had
learned of his birthright.
A
pile of scrap resided in a large container just beside the door. Little pieces
of broken machinery, surrounded by scattered tools, lay on a table next to his
work desk. He must have cobbled together the unit from spare parts. So he was
resourceful; she’d already guessed that much about him.
“Hey!”
Mara
jumped, her hand instinctively going for her blaster. She hadn’t sensed the
Jedi approach.
“Easy,
Jade,” he soothed.
“Did
you have to creep up on me like that,” she snapped, turning to verbally blast
him some more but the words withered on her tongue. He’d been for a training
run or partaking in some other type of exercise. He stood in front of her, his
blue eyes steady, his muscular chest bare and glistening and Mara’s mind went
blank, a strange tightness in her lungs constricting her breathing as she took
in the sight of his compact frame. Again she remembered how his body had felt as
he had crushed her to him, rolling them over and over to escape the feet of the
stampeding ronto on Druckenwell. What was this feeling? She felt her face grow
hot, her limbs trembled, her mind whirling with unexpected confusion.
“Mara!
What’s wrong?” Luke stepped towards her.
“Don’t
come any closer,” she said, putting her hands up, as if to ward him off.
Secretly she was impressed by this man. Luke Skywalker had worked hard to become
what he was. The toned physique could only have been achieved by dedication and
hard work but she was not usually one to be swayed by a handsome face and a well
defined chest.
“Your
ship…” Luke said carefully, backing away. “It is alright?”
“Yes.
Seems to be. I haven’t had a chance to do a full diagnostic.”
“Artoo
can do it.” Luke swivelled to face the rotund little astromech droid. “Would
you do a check on Mistress Jade’s ship?”
The
droid hooted cheerily and began heading back through the trees, the way Mara had
taken to reach Luke’s home.
“Artoo
is quite happy to do it.”
“Wait!”
Mara shouted.
The
droid paused, beeped and swivelled his head back and fore.
“He’d
better not go poking his…circuits into things that are none of his
business,” she warned Luke militantly.
“He
won’t. Just tell him that he has to leave your things alone.”
“He’s
a droid.”
“Artoo
is more than a droid,” Luke said firmly. “Just tell him.”
Mara
scowled. “Mind what you’re doing,” she said, feeling foolish.
“He
will.” Luke assessed the woman before him, trim and neat in her tunic and
jumpsuit, her damp, curling, red-gold hair tumbling over her shoulders. “You
look better today. I was going to ask if you wanted to join me on my training
run this morning but I decided that you probably needed your rest.”
Mara
glanced at her wrist chrono. “No chance of that run now.”
“No,
I’ve been up for several hours already and have already taken my run. I take
advantage of the early light.” He grinned and grabbed a towel lying on his
bunk and threw it across his shoulders. “There’s always tomorrow. Have a
seat.” He disappeared into Yoda’s hut and reappeared several minutes later
carrying two large mugs of steaming caf. “Here.”
“Thanks.”
Luke
took a sip and gave a deep sigh of satisfaction. “Aahhh! I needed that. I have
to go through my lightsaber drill and then I’m free to look at your ship.
Artoo will have finished setting up the diagnostic and we can find out what is
wrong.” He took another sip of the hot brew and then paused. “Sithspawn!
Artoo’s off to do the diagnostic. I don’t suppose you would like to help me
out with my saber drill?”
Mara’s
mug halted in front of her lips. “Me?”
“You
did say that you knew how to use one. I haven’t sparred against anyone –
anyone real since…” His face clouded over. “Let’s say that it’s been
several years.”
“I…ah…”
“I
could give you some pointers on your technique.”
“Maybe
I could give you some,” Mara countered. “I’ve had a week in hyperspace to
reacquaint myself with this weapon.
“Maybe
you could but the lightsaber is more than just a weapon. I should watch my over
confidence. That is a grave weakness amongst the Jedi.”
“The
Jedi had a weakness?” Mara’s lip curled derisively. He
sounded as if he was reciting from a training manual or echoing a former tutor.
“We
are fallible although we try to do what is right. It’s my aim to restart the
Jedi Order once more and for that I need people willing to train with me.” He
leant forward, his face earnest, blue eyes pleading that she listen to him.
“I’ve told you this before but I’m going to say it again and again. You
are extremely strong in the Force. I could feel your presence as soon as your
ship entered the Sluis Van sector. Do you know how unusual that kind of Force
ability is?”
Mara
shook her head mutely.
“I
would like to share with you my knowledge of the Jedi…if you are
interested?”
Mara’s
brain froze. He was offering to train her…wasn’t he? Karrde had said that
she should find the Jedi and allow him to train her. Her not so secret desire
bubbled at the edge of her consciousness. A chance of further training in the
Jedi arts? It was too good to miss even from someone she considered to be her
enemy. She hadn’t had to ask – Skywalker had offered. She would learn all
she could from him and then she would kill him. She waited for the little voice
inside her head telling her to kill the man standing before her but this time
the memory of Palpatine was silent.
Luke
turned and picked up a data pad lying on his desk. “On Druckenwell, I
discovered that you’d been fitted with a natural Force inhibitor. “
“A
what?”
“A
Force inhibitor. It’s a technique normally employed by the Sith to control
their servants.”
“There
was nothing inside my head,” Mara snapped, remembering the first encounter
with Skywalker that had resulted in an aching head but a return of her Force
ability. It had felt as if he’d ripped something from inside her skull.
“You’re lying. No one controlled me.”
“No,
I’m not.” Luke handed her the data pad and watched as she read the entry.
“I did a little research.”
“How
convenient,” she said coldly. “Anyone could have made this up including
you.”
“I
do not lie,” Luke repeated but he didn’t think she believed him.
“Occasionally I may bend the truth a little but you’re strong with the
Force. You could tell if I was lying. I’m not very good at it, to be honest. I
told you that.”
Mara
was beginning to find it more and more difficult to hold onto her dislike.
“I
suspect that most of Palpatine’s hands were fitted with a similar device if
they had any Force sensitivity.”
“I
was his only ‘hand’,” Mara said automatically, as she read through the
information held on the data pad. “There were no others.”
“Were
you now?” Luke’s voice was dry.
“Of
course.” Mara’s air turned defensive. She’d been the only one.
“Are
you sure?” Luke persisted. “Why would Palpatine have just the one? No
offence meant, but why just you?”
There
was a sudden silence.
“I
never met any others,” Mara admitted softly as sudden clarity came to her.
There were others like her? The Emperor had lied to her. She’d given him her
complete loyalty and devotion and he’d lied. She stared at Luke, her face
ashen with shock. “I thought I was the only one but I wasn’t…was I?”
“I
can’t say for certain but from some of the things I’ve read, Palpatine had
many agents. I would suspect that most of them are either dead or still working
in the remainder of the imperially controlled sectors.”
For
the first time in her life Mara Jade faced true reality. She’d not been as
unique as she’d thought. It still did not make her Master evil. Great leaders
had to keep some secrets from their subjects. Of course, she couldn’t have
covered the entire galaxy on her own. But she’d genuinely that that she’d
been unique…special. “There’s a woman on Coruscant now,” she admitted
slowly, her lips trembling. “I don’t know why I didn’t make the connection
before but I used to see her often at court.”
“But
now you have made the connection.”
“Yes…I’m
not certain if she is another hand but… I could be imagining things. Her cover
is very convincing…like mine was.”
“It
wouldn’t be much of a cover if it wasn’t,” Luke pointed out. “Neither of
you were trained as Sith agents. Only two there are – a master and his
apprentice.” Luke found himself unconsciously echoing Yoda. “You were not
Palpatine’s apprentice.”
“Darth
Vader.” Mara’s voice dripped with disgust. “He was the apprentice, I take
it?”
A
peculiar expression crossed Luke’s face. “Yes, Vader. If I had killed
An…Vader, Palpatine would have expected me to then take the Dark Lord’s
place by his side. I would have become his new apprentice. I did not wish to do
so and therefore I could not be allowed to live.” Luke’s mouth tightened,
the rawness of the memories still having the power to wound him deeply. “Have
you heard of the Dark Side Elite?”
“Yes.”
“Did
you meet any of them?”
Mara
shook her head. “I knew who they were. They did not know me. I worked only for
Emperor Palpatine himself. No one else, apart from Vader, knew what I was or
what I did. I was rumoured to be a court dancer…one of Palpatine’s favoured
concubines.”
So
she’d been left without an anchor and an identity when her master had died.
Luke easily read between the lines. In her eyes he had killed her very reason
for existing. “They were Force strong adepts certainly,” he said slowly.
“But they were not admitted to the ranks of the Sith. Their aim, like yours,
was to serve the Emperor but in a more visible sense. Palpatine already had
Vader. He would not take another apprentice until Vader died. If Vader had taken
his place, he would have selected his own apprentice. That was a common Sith
tactic. The apprentice finally rising up to kill his master. Palpatine did not
want anyone else with the power that Vader possessed.”
“That
part was true enough,” Mara spat bitterly.
“Yes,
Vader did kill Palpatine in the end but in doing so suffered terrible injuries
which killed him. He died a matter of minutes after the Emperor.”
“And
that’s supposed to make me feel better?” Mara said resentfully.
“You
have not turned to the dark side – you cannot,” Luke said, staring at her as
if he could see inside her soul. Inside her he sensed an innate goodness of
spirit. “Despite your anger there is a part of you that
remains pure and true and the Emperor knew this.”
“Oh
goody.” Mara laughed cynically. “Being ‘pure and true’ really helps one
when they have nowhere to go – their sole reason for being, destroyed.”
“Only
you can make yourself feel better,” he whispered. “Beware anger, fear and
aggression. They lead to hate and suffering.”
Her
fists clenched as she squashed her totally rational desire to throttle the man
currently spouting inane Jedi maxims at her. “I know all about those emotions.
Most of my feelings in those areas are directed towards you and they have kept
me alive and focused.”
“Revenge,”
Luke dismissed curtly. “You have to assess why you are seeking such a thing. I
thought I sought revenge against the man who had killed my father only to find
that it wasn’t true. Revenge is destructive. It eats at your soul until all
joy is gone from your being.” His eyes dropped and he fiddled with the
lightsaber affixed to his waist. “Are you happy?” he asked.
Mara
ignored the question. She’d known contentment and satisfaction that she was
doing her utmost to serve her master but happiness…no. Happiness was for
others. “Who do you fear the most?” she asked, wondering if he would answer.
“Myself,”
Luke answered simply. “You’ve already asked me who my worst enemy is and I
would give you the same reply. Humans are the most dangerous of predators.
Governor Wilek Nereus on Bakura also shared that opinion with me. We shared
little else.” Luke shrugged lightly. “You cannot see it yet but I am not
your enemy. However, if you try to kill me I will defend myself. I have a
mission to undertake and I will do…” He stopped and swallowed, his throat
thick with tears that he tried not to let Mara see. “I will do.”