Chapter 20
Darth Vader stood in silence in his ready-room onboard the Executor, watching the small, flat image without moving, remaining outwardly impassive at the recording which zoomed in from a distant wide-shot to a shaky, indistinct close-up of the West Tower of the Imperial Palace, his son sat cross-legged as if in meditation on the high balustrade outside of his apartments there, Mara Jade stood close by- and what was she still doing there at all? Hadn't he warned his son of the dangers inherrent in allowing such closeness - why did the boy never listen. Would it be up to Vader to remove her against his son's wishes?
From this distance they seemed at ease, lost in conversation, only their body-language betraying the serious nature of the moment. Vader again cursed the limited nature of this kind of distance- image, taken from high-orbit above Coruscant, the airspace over and about the PAlace restricted. Set on the ecumenopolis of Coruscant, the Imperial Palace was blanketed with many kinds of shields, both to secure against physical attack and to guard against technological warfare of any kind- including spying. Other buildings were hardly close, the Palace enjoying the ultimate luxury on Coruscant, affordable only by the Emperor; space, long tracts of open walkways and tiered terraces setting it apart from its neighbouring buildings, both to emphasise its relevance and to provide a buffer which was easy to patrol and defend.
Palpatine had fifteen Palaces on Coruscant, ranging from the restrained, seventeen-storey, three-hundred roomed Winter Retreat at the planet's frigid South Pole to the vast, sprawling might of the Imperial Palace at the Capital, a city within itself, the seat of government for the Empire and Palpatine's favoured residence.
And even this, in the greater scheme, was nothing; there were in all well over three hundred Palaces, spread out over his Empire on planets of significance, massive edifices conceived as absolute statements of supremacy and scope, visible symbols of the autocratic power they embodied, each filled with the very best that their system could offer, willingly or not, a monument to the Emperor's authority and importance. Most of them the ever-reclusive Emperor had never even visited; never intended to. What mattered to Palpatine was not that he needed or even wanted them; what mattered was that he owned them; that he was seen to do so.
Vader himself owned five Palaces on four planets, all presented to him by the Emperor, though he'd not failed to notice that, among his gifts and favour, Palpatine had awarded Luke no residence of his own, preferring to keep the boy close, forcing him to return to the Palace and his Master's closely-controlled clique whenever he was ordered back to Coruscant.
Only three times had Palpatine moved his retinue whilst Luke had been En Courte; twice to the Winter Retreat on Coruscant and once to the immense Selo Complex on Caamas. But always he returned within the month, unable to stay away from the seat of his government and his power for any length of time. He believed himself impregnable there and had gone to great lengths to ensure this, though most of the measures were not visible from the outside of the massive Imperial Palace, designed to be viewed as a monument to his confidence rather than his obsessive paranoia.
One such hidden measure was a series of disruptive shields which ensured that no technology-based system would penetrate the Palace, so any kind of technological spying equipment or enhancement, including visual and auditory, was nullified. The only thing which couldn't be guarded against by the shield system was old-fashioned light-rays, so visual images could be picked up from a distance and, with the use of high-quality lenses, recorded.
A visual shield could of course have been implemented to rectify this, but by its very nature it couldn't be hidden and in the politics of public power-plays, image meant as much as intent. The populace needed to see the indestructible might and unassailable confidence of Imperial supremacy inherent in the monolithic Imperial Palace on Coruscant, designed to be the epicentre of power. It was the tallest structure on the densely populated city-planet, no other building allowed to be higher, built deliberately over the ruins of the old Jedi Temple. Court, the Government and the Military all reported to, were presided over and administered from this single location, a fact intended to clarify that all three came expressly under the control of one man - the man whose Palace this was; the Emperor.
And paranoid as he was, he wouldn't be scrutinized or familiarised despite his desire to remain always in the centre of his Galaxy. So now all that Vader could do was curse the quality of the small flat image taken from high orbit, aware that he couldn't ask Intel to clean up or extrapolate the recording for more information without risking a copy of it reaching the Emperor. He leaned forward unconsciously, as if it would make a difference...
In the next moment, the boy swung his legs free and stepped off the high balcony, Vader twitching in shock-
Jade leapt forward to grab at his arm, so that he swung in a short arc, dropping slightly as she staggered forward into the barrier, using its mass to it stop her, clearly unprepared for the action.
They remained like that for long seconds, Luke finally looking up to her before reaching out his other hand and climbing back onto the balcony, Jade pushing him back a step with both hands against his chest when he had.
"I felt it shouldn't go into the public domain." Colonel Hoken said diplomatically at last. He was a short, square, military man, not particularly given to inventive thinking, but Vader trusted him; he was loyal, both to Vader and of late, to his son too, the boy's military leaning gaining him ever more popularity in the fleet as his abilities also began to flourish.
He realized he was still staring at the officer, mind buzzing with the content of the recording. "There are no copies?"
"No, my Lord, not to my knowledge. The spy who was selling the images is still in custody on Bilbringi. Under interrogation he admitted that this was his first attempt to sell them."
"Bring him here. Quietly." Vader ordered; best to be sure.
Hoken bowed carefully, made a smart military turn and left to carry out his orders, leaving Vader to turn and replay the images, considering.
Hoken's undercover teams were always present on Bilbringi due to the Imperial shipyards there, but it had been pure chance that one of them had heard about a recording regarding The Heir and reported it to his superior, who had arranged to have the man arrested, then done the right thing in contacting Hoken to pass on the recording.
Its content was... disturbing; doubly so, when he watched it alone now. Firstly because he had no idea what his son had been doing, and secondly because Mara Jade clearly remained a part of his son's inner retinue. That she had caught him was neither here nor there- it was her mission to guard him, appointed by the Emperor to whom she was fanatically loyal.
The relevant point here was that his son had presumed she would do so. Because no matter what Luke believed, she was not to be trusted.
He reached out and took the small storage chip from the display unit, the image fritzing to static as he did so. Holding it momentarily in his gloved hand, he closed his fist, crushing it beyond repair.
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Luke stood to tense attention in the silence of his quarters onboard the Peerless, gazing without seeing into the diffuse, chaotic glow of Lightspeed. He had finally been given leave to return to the Destroyer earlier that day - the forth time he'd requested it - after almost three weeks trapped among the stifling intrigues and relentless plotting of the Palace and his Master's precious Court. He'd left within hours of receiving permission, his own small entourage in tow, resenting the fact that he had one at all; that he was forced into such things by the life he now lived.
Onboard ship had been no better; everyone was frustrated at having been cooped up over Coruscant for so long, eager to be gone just as he was, the restless atmosphere palpable.
He'd gone straight to the bridge and set a course on impulse for the Peerless, the Dominant and the Zephyr to fly a wide loop which would take them along the Hydian Way to Arkania and then into open space along the edge of The Colonies, taking in every planet and system which intercepted it; past the Perlemian Trade Route, the Corellian Run, crossing the opposite side of the Hydian Way at Nubia, then past the Corellian Trade Spine and finally Shapani, joining the Rimma Trade Route to travel back into the Core Systems. It was a huge tour of duty which even if uninterrupted, which was very unlikely, would take weeks- even months- to complete.
It wasn't until the intended route had been transmitted back to Coruscant and returned with the Emperor's approval, along with a short, cryptic message from his Master to the fact that his 'Wolf' may pace where it pleased, that Luke had withdrawn to his ready-room to overlay the course onto star-charts in the holo-display there and seen just exactly what he'd done. All that had been in his head in the moment that he'd made the choice of schedule was to get away from Coruscant; now that a line was drawn along his arbitrary route, he sat back on his chair and stared for a long time, aware of what he'd done.
The route he'd named almost perfectly described the outermost extent of his fleet's jurisdiction.
The Emperor's precious 'Wolf', like a caged animal, was pacing up and down just inside its bars.
So now he stood quietly, gazing out into the void, head tilted, staring at nothing. The duty shift had come and gone and he'd remained at his desk in his ready-room, reading dispatches, refining the projected tour of duty after holding conferences with Chiefs of Staff, assigning and reassigning missions to divisions and units to disperse and manage projected dissent hotspots, organising fleet ops and manoeuvres for those not involved; attending to the minutia of Fleet logistics.
Finally, when he could work no more, eyes blurred and mind numb, he'd returned here to his quarters and stood in silence in the darkened room, gazing into the maelstrom, contemplating...
Mara was making her way here, knowing that he had returned. He knew that absolutely; could sense her unique signature in the Force as she employed her ability, no matter how subconsciously, to ensure that she remained undetected.
Leaving him to consider - what should he do when she arrived?
The sensible thing would so clearly be to turn her away.
He could so easily provide the perfect excuse; he had been away from the Peerless for weeks and therefore couldn't guarantee that all surveillance measures so carefully hidden by Palpatine's agents in his absence had been removed yet. She'd know of course that it would be a lie - that he would have removed or destroyed them within minutes of his arrival here - but it would be a difficult case to argue since she had no proof and anyway, the message would be clear.
So he could stop this now; just let it dwindle to nothing and have them return to the way they were... that would be the sensible thing.
He'd achieved everything he needed from this particular game- everything he intended. Hadn't he claimed to himself that he'd wanted a secret, a method to control her; well now he had one. She'd lost her impartiality, allowed herself to become involved- and then she'd withheld the fact. Lied about it to the Emperor- to his face.
He had his control. Because if she ever found out something he needed to keep from his Master then all he need do was threaten to reveal this. Yes he'd be damning himself as well, but in a situation where he was in the line of fire either way, she would surely realise that he may well have nothing to lose - and she may well have everything.
And like every game, it was as much the bluff you made as the cards you held.
Which was why the right thing to do now would be to walk away- to underline that it had all been just that; a game. That he wouldn't hesitate to play this card if she forced him.
If he didn't back off now he was weakening that position.
So why was he wavering?
He understood now what his father had tried to warn, the vulnerabilities inherent in allowing another this close. Had this been what had brought his father down- had this been his weakness?
Because Luke knew it would be his- if he opened the door.
If he allowed this consideration to cut across his objectives.
But something in him craved this; this closeness. Even though he knew it was a vulnerability and he swore he'd never again hold one before his Master, and even though he knew it was a risk because Mara 's loyalties would always lie with the Emperor and even though, and even though, and even though....
A thousand and one reasons not to, and only one reason to open that door...
He heard the gentle drum of her fingers on the heavy shipboard door and held still for one moment longer-
Stop this now. Don't have this vulnerability
Don't take this chance
Don't be your father
Luke shook his head, remembering Vader's words again, spoken with such conviction; "We are solitary creatures by necessity..."
"I am not you." He whispered into the darkness...
And with one final, tense sigh to expel his doubts, he stepped forward and opened the door...
She entered the dark room in a rush of motion, senses a flurry of excitement and anticipation.
"I thought you weren't going to let me in." she whispered jokingly, arms about him, breath to his neck- as if not a moment had gone by since they were last here. Had that been a conscious decision on her part?
Luke closed his eyes, wishing already that he hadn't, feeling the softness of her glowing red hair against his skin. For an instant he allowed himself to fall back into the depth of emotions which radiated from her, a momentary indulgence, undeniable, overwhelming, intensely impetuous and wildly irresponsible-
But the truth was far more complex, and whether she chose to admit it or not, she had to know that on some level.
Because he did. He knew the dangers. He knew how this could so easily end. Knew the knife-edge he lived on.
Knew absolutely that she would betray him someday.
She couldn't be trusted. She couldn't be trusted. But then neither could he- didn't she know that?
If he cared for her at all he should walk away. If she cared for him she should have already done the same...
She took his face in her hands and stood on tip-toe, reaching up to kiss him as her fingers slid back into his hair, breath to his lips-
And all of his doubts and his reservations, his father's warning and his own piercing, perfect knowledge of the future, melted away like shadows in darkness...
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Madine sat nervously upright as the Chiefs of Staff settled about the large circular table in the War Room onboard the Rebel Flagship Home-One, glancing back at the huge canvas which hung from the far wall, a massive, brooding rendition of a military struggle fought in the dark of night. 'Night Battle' it was called, by Inego.
It was the original piece; a priceless work of art. For some reason, the smuggler Solo had it in his possession and had given it over to be re-hung here- 'on loan', he'd gone to great lengths to clarify. How he had come by it he'd neglected to say - but then since he was a smuggler Madine hadn't bothered to push too hard; sometimes the obvious answer was the right one.
Solo took a long look at the canvas as he passed it, smiling at some private memory as he settled down beside Leia Organa, who had fallen surprisingly easily into the complexities of the position as Chief of Staff following Mon's loss. She glanced at him now, brown eyes wary. There was no amity between them but they had a good working relationship and she'd impressed him with her leadership and her grace under fire.
And she had that edge; Mon had always been a Diplomat and a Fighter; Leia was more a Fighter then a Diplomat, which was a good thing in Madine's opinion; it may well make for a more aggressive future actions. At the moment though, she was still finding her feet and her responses were accordingly cautious.
Which was why he felt a pang of guilt that he had basically forced her into holding this meeting. But if he were to push Mon's last plan forward then time was running short, and purposely so. Firstly because he wanted to limit the amount of time that this information had to get out, and secondly because he needed them to move on this in a hurry- rush things through, not spend too long looking at the minutiae of the plan. That had all been considered long ago by himself and Mon. Now he needed to push it forward and to do that he may have to twist Leia's arm a little.
Which was why he'd requested this meeting of the Chiefs and held firm when she'd asked for details- in truth he didn't want her to dismiss his proposal or have a coherent argument against it before he'd had the option to put the plan on the table before a wider vote.
Everyone settled and fell to polite silence as Leia stood, the picture of calm, speaking for the benefit of the official register. "We'll convene this meeting at seventeen- thirty-two. Officers present are Admiral Ackbar, Admiral Stone, Intel Chief Massa, Commander Solo, General Madine and myself. The meeting has been convened at the request of General Madine, so with your permission Sirs, I'll hand the chair over to him."
It was a little curt, but then Leia Organa wasn't one to be trifled with. Madine stood, reflexively pulling his jacket straight, a leftover from his time in the Imperial Forces, when such things were paramount.
"Sirs... with the launch of the new Super Star Destroyer Invincible now imminent, I'd like to take this opportunity to bring some very important information to the table. Although you were unaware of it for security reasons, there has been a plan in the pipeline for some time now to use this unrivalled opportunity..."
Solo, who was sat directly opposite Madine, was beginning a slow roll of his eyes, settling down to rest his chin in his hand in a lazy slouch. Madine gave him a long, unimpressed stare and continued, losing his point only momentarily; "unrivalled... opportunity... to deliver a major blow to the Empire; one from which they could not recover."
He glanced about the table into a sea of mildly expectant faces; all that was about to change.
"As you are now aware that the ill-fated Bothawuii mission was also to hand over new technology from the Bothans to ourselves; the Empire's DEMP generators. Their intended use was to have been against all Destroyers in Coruscant's orbit when the S.S.D. Invincible was launched from there on its inaugural flight. With the loss of the Dynamic EMP's that plan became unfeasible. However, the Destroyer's launch is still going ahead and the Emperor will still be present on the bridge of the Invincible for its inaugural flight. The opportunity for which we intended the DEMP's is still there Sirs, and I suggest we use it."
"You have a couple of DEMP's in your back pocket?" Solo drawled, and Madine skewered him with a look.
He hadn't wanted him here at all; had argued strenuously against it behind the scenes, but Massa, the Intel Chief, had insisted that there was nothing to substantiate Madine's suspicions that Solo was the Imperial spy hidden among them, stating that his escape from both the Imperial Palace on Coruscant and the mission onboard the Fury was not in itself sufficient proof, and a tad obvious considering that an infiltration specialist generally tried to keep a low profile.
Madine was still watching him... and so, he suspected, was Massa, despite her claims.
"No, we do not have the DEMP's anymore but it still doesn't negate our other advantages. It simply changes the details, not the overall plan. We still have the one thing which the Empire doesn't know about and it was that which was always going to buy us access to the Emperor."
Leia frowned, tiring of these guessing games, "Which is?"
Madine pulled himself up to his full height, smiling tightly. "We have the Command Overrides to the Invincible- the hardwired codes. Having our own DEMP generators would have done nothing more than bought us a way in by disabling other Imperial ships in the area. Once we were in we were going to utilise the Override Codes to bring the Invincible down into the atmosphere without trim- break it apart under stress and burn it up with the Emperor onboard- with everyone in the galaxy watching over the HoloNet. That was the ultimate plan. The plan which Mon Mothma and I worked towards- the plan she gave her life to make possible."
Leia frowned, "How long have you had these codes?"
"Mon Mothma was given the codes by Olin'yaa almost a month before the first attempt on The Heir. As everyone here is aware, Mon Mothma's plan had always been to take him down first, then the Emperor, rather than allow a chain of accession. Now another opportunity has come to make good on this intention and I think we should take it- in Mon's memory."
Oh, that was a low blow, Leia knew, whether he had intended it or not. Now if she declined, she wasn't just refusing him, but the memory of Mon Mothma. She looked to Han, who looked away uneasily; it was Tag who spoke out, sitting to focused attention.
"Let me clarify this- you have the Command Override Codes which are hardwired into the Invincible's systems?"
"Essentially, yes." Madine said.
"Essentially?" Tag pushed, wishing to be very sure.
"The codes aren't literally hardwired in, but they're one of the three back-doors into the system- they override all other commands. They're intended for use by the Emperor to ensure..."
"Thank-you, I know what a Command Code is." She stated tartly, obviously as annoyed as Leia was at being kept out of this loop. "And you're positive that these codes are still active, given that both Olin'yaa and Mon Mothma were in Imperial custody?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you tell us this sooner?" Leia's voice was dura-steel.
Madine almost looked to Han but caught himself in time, "You know we have continuing problems with information leaks. Mon Mothma had ordered that this information be kept strictly between myself and her until it was necessary to involve others. I now consider it necessary; I think we're still in a strong position to carry out Mon's intended threat."
Ackbar spoke up, long webbed fingers splayed, "Would the codes not have been nullified when the Empire discovered our access to their DEMP generators, General?"
"No Sir," Madine said, "The codes have nothing to do with the hardware. They don't even originate in the same dockyard and would have been integrated by a completely separate unit in isolation. This is something which even the Captain in charge of the ship would not have been given access to."
"So we can assume that they would have no reason to change them?" Ackbar pushed.
"Yes Sir."
"That's an awfully big assumption." Admiral Stone maintained, shaking her head.
"The codes were checked less than two weeks ago and found to be still active." Madine assured, everyone falling to silence at that, considering.
"So we have the codes- the means to influence the internal systems of the ship." Leia prompted, her own interest rising, "And you're suggesting what?"
"As I said, the original plan was to send the Invincible into the atmosphere; take her down to the umbra under her own power then cut all power to the engines. Destroyers are not designed for planetary gravity; without shear, she'd take an unviable entry and break up as she hit the atmosphere." Madine said, "Obviously without the cover of our own DEMP's to disable the other Destroyers who would be there for the flight that's not possible; they would move in to stop her- disable her engines long before she reached Coruscant's atmosphere and take her under tractor-beam tow. However, I still think that this is an unparalleled opportunity; the Emperor seldom leaves the safety of Coruscant."
"He's only in orbit." Stone pointed out.
"In a ship we will have control of." Madine maintained, "The paramount vessel of the fleet- nothing can touch us."
Everyone stilled to silence again, considering.
"Could we use our control of the Invincible to activate its own onboard DEMP's and continue the mission as originally planned?" Ackbar asked, bringing hopeful eyes to him.
"No, Sir." It was Intel Chief Tag who replied, "Unfortunately the Invincible's DEMP's won't be online for the launch; present intelligence suggests they're to be completed at the shipyards in the Koornacht Cluster soon after."
"No chance we could actually get 'em running for the launch- with our own 'techs?" Han asked, though there wasn't much hope in his voice.
"No, Sir. They were never intended to be active for the inaugural flight; the Invincible was always intended to carry out shakedown manoeuvres en-route to the Koornacht Shipyards, then have the final fit and fine-tune."
"Could we lock off the Bridge? Keep Palpatine confined there until we've used the overrides to make a jump out of system?" Stone said, considering.
"No," Leia replied, eyes narrowing in thought, "Launches are traditionally held in low orbit in order to be visible from the planet's surface. There'd be too many other Star Destroyers in our path; we'd never find a safe trajectory in time. If we're not able to disabled those Destroyers, as we could have done with DEMP's they'll immobilize the Invincible's engines to keep us there - or simply use tractor-beams."
"Seal off the Bridge then; cut off oxygen?"
"Possibly," Madine allowed.
"Nah," Han interjected, "A Destroyer Bridge is a big area. You'd be giving 'em an awful long time to get out before they were out of air- and the rest of the Destroyer crew a long time to get to them, no matter how many troops we had onboard."
"Explosive decompression?" Leia suggested. Everyone fell to silence, considering.
"We'd need to check the plans- I don't think there's an airlock." Tag murmured.
"If it were inside the Invincible's defence shields, a relatively small ship could blow out the viewpanes." Leia said.
"All ships without security clearance would have been banned from the area two days in advance." Tag said, always familiar with her enemy's protocols.
Everyone fell to silence again; it was Han who spoke up, "Take one of theirs- hell, they'll have bays full of 'em. If we have the Command Overrides we can release a few TIE's and get 'em into space inside the Invincible's shields."
Tag nodded, "The shields would also prevent the TIE's being shot down by other Destroyers."
Leia considered... was it possible- did they have a real shot at Palpatine? "We could lock down the whole ship to limit Imperial responses from onboard the Invincible- every blast door. Shut down comms- seriously hamper any rescue attempt."
"The Bridge blast doors are the highest-rated onboard." Tag said, lost in thought, "And there'll be three sets in the stretch of corridor to either side of the bridge. If all blast doors were engaged using the override code it would take a while for anyone to get through, even with explosives or cutters."
"Where would we need to be to use the codes?" Han asked, leaning in now, getting a feel for the overall plan.
Madine looked to Tag. "Ops Three, halfway up the Command Tower; that would probably be our best bet. Override Codes will work from various locations; you could close blast doors from any class-one terminal, but to have access to the whole of the Destroyer, including the Bridge doors, defense shields and the TIE Bays, you'd need to be in Ops. And you'd need to be there on the day."
"Can the codes not be used remotely?" Leia asked.
"No. These are back-door codes specific to this ship. There are unique Command Override Codes designed to be used remotely, but these aren't them. We'd never intended to use them in any other way than onboard; when the original plan was made, we didn't expect to have any opposition- our own DEMP's would have rendered any other ship in the area inoperative."
"So we're getting on-board." Leia said, unsure now. "How?"
"It would need to be three days before; they'll begin moving all non-military personnel off then." Tag offered the details, as ever.
"Hey, how hard can it be?" Han asked, "Have you seen the size of one of those things?" I don't believe we can't just find somewhere quiet to stow away for a few days... take a reader, a pack of cards maybe."
"It would have to be a small team if we're hiding them." Leia said, ignoring the Corellian's wisecrack, "Twenty; no more. Four pilots who can fly TIE's; the rest of us will split into two teams and make our way to the Ops Three separately, both units having the Command Code."
"Wait a minute... us?" Han interjected.
"I'm not about to sit this one out." Leia stated firmly.
"That's exactly what you're gonna do, boss." Han said, emphasising his last word.
Tag agreed; "You're no longer in a position where active service missions are an option, Chief."
Leia pursed her lips, "You seriously think I'm going to pass this chance up? This isn't open for discussion; I'm going to be there."
"I'm sorry, Chief, but I can't allow it; I'd be failing in my duty if I did." Tag said firmly, her eyes going to Ackbar for support.
He wasn't slow to offer it, "Leia; you know this would be unwise. Please reconsider."
Leia held her ground, unwilling to let this opportunity go by; to be there - to be in the team who finally brought Palpatine down... or at least had a good chance at it. "Chief Mothma often took command roles in the field-" She argued- and had already seen the error of her words when Madine shot her down.
"Yes- and we lost her there, because we let that rule slide. We can't afford another change in leadership right now, your Highness. Your input and experience would be very much appreciated - from here."
Leia fell to silence before that, looking into the faces of those about the table, knowing there'd be no arguing with them
"..... Fine." Leia agreed, cornered- but she wouldn't give up without a fight; it wasn't in her nature. No; she'd bide her time...
Han turned back to the assemblage, that laconic glint in his eye, "I, on the other hand, am completely expendable, so should head up the team."
Leia took a breath, about to state in no uncertain terms that if she wasn't going, then he wasn't going either, but caught herself in time.
"That's a great idea." She said, bringing his wary eyes back to hers, looking for the catch. "But I think you should fly the escape ship."
"Wait a minute- I'm not sittin' in some boring ship in some empty hangar while everyone else goes trottin' round a Star Destroyer swee..." He paused, realising what he was about to call her in a formal conference in which minutes were being diligently taken. She smiled just slightly and he pursed his lips, half-stubborn, half-sulking; "I'm still not doin' it."
"The important thing about this is going to be keeping a retreat corridor open for the two teams Han; no-one's going to expect us to be there on the way to the Ops room- on the way back, not only will it be a running firefight, but a good portion of the fleet will be just waiting for us to exit the Invincible and run for deep space. I won't ask anybody to go on a suicide mission, therefore I'm going to put my best pilot at the stick."
"I can go on the mission and then fly." Han maintained, ignoring the ego-massage, not missing the fact that she had just said 'us not 'them', but keeping it quiet- for now.
"I think this is perhaps a discussion for later." Leia charged, lifting perfectly-arched eyebrows over mahogany-brown eyes. She turned away, looking to the greater assembly, "For now I'd like to call for a vote on this?"
There was a nod of assent from those about the table, Madine clenching his jaw, willing the project forward without wishing to seem too eager. Leia glanced about, then nodded. "We have an undivided vote, which constitutes an agreement in principle; the mission will go ahead."
Madine smiled, triumphant; Leia had agreed, placing herself in an irriversible position without anybody addressing the one issue he'd hoped fervently that nobody would mention- The Heir would be on the Bridge too.
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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
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Mara sat hunched down in a small droid maintenance corridor overlooking the Aft Bay, which was always closed to all personnel besides the 701st Stormtroopers. The Commander's Untouchables, they were being called now, and with good reason; no-one had access to the areas of the ship which they were stationed in, neither docking bays nor accommodation nor supplies nor recreation bays. They were a completely separate entity within the Destroyer. It had been done gradually and subtly, the 701st split up and moved often, barracks kept at several locations, but Palace Intel had slowly come to realise that they had little idea of numbers or identities. They had all the official figures of course, and they all added up... it just didn't feel right to Mara.
So she was on a little recon. She'd managed to trace shipwide 'droid maintenance access shutes to a point where she was close enough to an internal wall in the Aft Bay to drill two tiny holes and set two surveillance lenses, the transmitters taped to the inside of the cavity wall high up, close to the ceiling.
To avoid being picked up in random anti-surveillance scans, the lenses were shielded and live-wire-only. Requiring Mara to actually be with the system when it was active and power it down when she left, this made the system difficult to detect even on close scans. But it also meant that if she wanted any information, Mara had to be close by sending an active wired signal from her monitor. Which meant she was spending her night off sitting in a cramped, stuffy, unheated maintenance corridor watching a huge, neatly-arrayed docking bay practically devoid of life. Apparently even if she had nothing better to do with her night, the 701st did.
Reece was with Skywalker tonight, the pair going through reams of reports from Abregado-rae's official agencies. They'd made planetary orbit three days earlier and Luke was just... hanging around it seemed to Mara; procrastinating. Looking at accounts which were obviously forged - he knew that as well as she did; at the tip of the Shapani Bypass, Abregado-rae had long been the centre for all smuggling operations entering the Colonies, the planetary wealth probably doubling due to bribes and deals.
But this was nothing new, and Luke was generally a great advocate of 'better the devil you know' which made his close scrutiny all the more puzzling.
The obvious answer of course was that he was delaying his return to Coruscant. They were almost two months into the Tour of Duty, and were now completing their their wide loop and heading for Coruscant, only a few more scheduled stops to go. And they both knew that when they reached Coruscant and the Palace, their nightly meetings were suspended and their affair put on hold, so in truth she wasn't complaining about the length of stay, or looking too hard for its reason.
They had... settled was the wrong word, but she had felt the slow change over the last few months as they had been together, safely away from the prying eyes on Coruscant. Their affair remained nothing if not explosive, but then that was part of the draw for Mara.
He had changed so much in the last four years. All the big, sweeping changes were so easy to mark, but it was the subtle changes which had crept upon him without her even noticing that she considered now. For so long she had looked to the man and seen a glint of Palpatine's precious wolf in his eyes and then - so gradually that she couldn't mark an individual moment or name a date - now... now she often felt as if she were looking into the eyes of the wolf, searching for some trace of the man beneath.
Did it bother her?
No. She'd spent her life walking amongst wolves- so much so that it felt natural to her now, the spark which lit the flame. The man who had come here had been fascinating and strong and honourable and maybe if things had been different...
But they weren't and it didn't matter- because now she had a wolf, and the thrill in being close to that stormy, feral, volatile edge would always bring her back one more time. Occasionally she still saw the pilot who had been brought here and the moments were all the more valued for their rareness... but much as she loved the man with the sky blue eyes, much as he'd pulled her in long before the wolf ever turned those mismatched, ice-cool eyes on her, she also loved the exhilaration of running with the wolf... and she knew it.
She gazed blankly at the image of the empty bay, mind wandering...
She remembered distinctly when she had defended the Emperor once during their last stay on Coruscant, their relationship already irrevocably changed but still very much an unknown quantity. Beladon D'Arca had turned to Luke as they had made their way through the expansive stretch of the Attendants Hall following Court. Palpatine had stopped to enter into conversation with someone, forcing everyone in his entourage to wait until he set forward again.
Stood a half-pace behind Luke, she had seen him backstep as D'Arca approached, but with nowhere to retreat he had been forced into conversation, the influential man congratulating Luke on his upcoming command, the Invincible, adding that he had great respect for those the Emperor valued, asking whether he may press The Heir to attend an upcoming event at his estate on Coruscant.
When Luke had issued a polite decline, citing Fleet obligations, D'Arca had nodded appreciatively, stating that he of course understood; many of his family held positions of great responsibility within the Fleet. He did however insist that The Heir should consider an invitation to take advantage of his family's 'Hunting Lodges' in their estates on Borleias, Commenor or Teyr open-ended; surely, he espoused, a thin smile to his dry lips, the Emperor's Wolf would appreciate the opportunity to indulge in a hunt?
Mara had watched Luke's shoulders tighten from behind, his spine straightening, and momentarily worried that he may actually knock the man to the ground right there and then.
But the procession moved abruptly forward, saving her- and probably D'Arca - from having to deal with that event, though just to be sure she had stepped level as D'Arca turned about, murmuring hushed counsel as Luke had quietly cursed his Master for giving him the epithet at all.
Mara had made the mistake of claiming in whispered tones that it fitted him - and he'd rounded on her, eyes ablaze though his face remained a neutral mask, his voice low and tight in the crowded hall, "If I'm a wolf then it's because I live in their company!"
"I didn't say otherwise." she'd defended mildly as they walked slowly forward, her eyes front, experiencing the same dangerous thrill she always felt at being in his company when he was like this.
"Then you're a fool to be here- never trust a wolf." he growled, body tense, stance subtly aggressive though he remained outwardly calm, keeping pace with the entourage as it stepped forward, his frustration hidden by the fact that as they passed, those about him in the Hall were already bowed low in respect.
She'd hesitated, glancing momentarily from the assembly to him, tensing slightly in reaction to his body language, aware of how close to the edge she was walking in continuing this conversation, of how quickly that volatile temperament could now shift- daring herself to step closer still.
"I trust you." Mara had countered, emphasising the difference, knowing instinctively how to calm her wolf.
He stared ahead in silence for long moments... and though the wild fury bled from his eyes, they remained sharp and fierce.
"No you don't," he murmured at last, voice still holding genuine menace but contained now; restrained. "Not really. You tell yourself you can trust- you think you're safe because for some reason you believe you can control it... but I can't, so I'm damn sure that you can't. You're not nearly as safe as you think."
It was an incredible admission, not least because he so clearly believed it.
"You're saying that you're capable of hurting me?" she'd asked, glancing to him, shaking her head decisively, "I don't believe you."
He took a long step ahead of Mara, dismissive now, the moment and his temper mastered again. But before he left, he issued one last caution; "I'm saying if you reach out to a wolf you shouldn't be surprised when it bites."
.
Mara hunkered down in the cramped corridor now, considering his words. It had been a warning, she knew; and it had been genuine.
Did she trust him?
She wanted to say yes... but then what was she doing here?
And then again, bearing her present actions in mind... should he trust her?
Her consideration was abruptly halted as the docking bay below her dropped its shields momentarily to allow a large shuttle to enter. Mara shimmied upright in the close space, frowning; there was nothing due to come in on the Bridge logs- and even if it were, this was hardly a recognised port of entry.
The Skipray - an Intel 420; fast and tough and loved by local enforcement and smugglers alike - settled to a smooth stop in the centre of the bay, a small group of 701st Stormtroopers coming to a halt before it.
Mara watched two men walk casually down the ramp, cursing the fact that she hadn't chosen a lens that could zoom; who'd have thought she'd see anyone but troopers?
The younger man, slim and slight with a flash of electric blue to the front of bleached-white hair, halted at the ship's ramp while they conversed a moment, then the second - obviously in charge, tall and athletic with dark hair and a thick, heavy handlebar moustache - set forward with the troops, though his body-language inferred that he was anything but intimidated.
They disappeared from the lens's wide field of view and Mara scrabbled up, abandoning her screen where it lay, intending to go and try to pick them up in the corridor two levels down near the bay.
When she got down to the point where the restricted corridors joined more public ones, there was no-one to be seen. Mara briefly considered contacting Security to check where they had gone, but hesitated; either they had come in under the sensors somehow, or they were allowed in by someone in Security, in which case alerting them to the fact that she knew someone was aboard wasn't exactly a bright idea; clearly this wasn't intended to be common knowledge. And if the anonymous visitor had been smuggled onboard, they would probably be moving him around the ship the same way.
She frowned, walking slowly down the empty corridor; either way, she had a pretty good idea where their mystery guest had gone...
.
.
"I seem to be a ship or two short." Karrde announced, neither irritated nor absolving, "I counted them. Twice."
The Heir smiled easily, in good humour tonight, and Karrde wondered again at his true age; at times, when he was tired and serious and volatile, he seemed very close to Karrde's own age, but in casual moments like this when he was at ease, genuinely smiling, the smuggler could swear he was only in his twenties- early twenties at that.
Like everyone else with any kind of vested interest, Karrde had expended serious amounts of currency trying to unearth some concrete evidence as to who The Heir really was... and like everyone else, he'd come up blank.
The man himself flashed that genial smile which pulled at the deep scar running through his lips as he spoke in a perfectly-modulated Coruscanti accent - too perfect, to Karrde's mind.
"You have too many anyway. Think of the maintenance I've saved you."
"Yes; and all that revenue which I will now have to turn down was becoming rather a drag."
"I'll sort something out for you." The Heir allowed casually, walking back from the console table with two glasses of brandy in his hand and offering one to Karrde. "I'll leave them at Bilbringi and make sure you have their operating codes. Which would you like, Brigs or a Xebecs?"
"I'll have Xebecs." Karrde said, satisfied with the exchange; although the ships would have no upgrades and need their military past disguising, they would be newer, more reliable and considerably bigger than the freighters he'd lost. It was a fair exchange, generous in fact, and the man who offered it did so without conditions, he knew that. "Will they come with papers of ownership?"
"No, but then I doubt you had those for the ones I lost. They won't show up on any Imperial registry as missing." Luke assured, "And I think someone once told me you knew a man who could forge documents and call signs... but I could be wrong."
Karrde raised his thick eyebrows at the good-natured dig, but didn't answer, the matter settled as far as he was concerned.
His own transport, the heavily modified freighter Wild Karrde, remained in orbit about the nearby planet of Giju, a popular smuggler's safe-spot on the edge of the Tapani Sector, leading Karrde to believe the rumours that the Peerless, the Dominant and the Zephyr were in the process of making Abregado-Rae's Ruling Council very uncomfortable at the moment. A fact that seemed to put The Heir in particularly good spirits.
But then, it always seemed to Karrde that the man's mood lifted in direct proportion to the amount of time he had been away from Coruscant. He wondered briefly whether he should point this out but decided against it; observations of his personal life were never welcome, whatever his mood, and anyway the conversation had moved on, The Heir's demeanour tightening somewhat as he turned to more important business.
"Do you have access to a chemist? A reliable one."
"What kind?" Karrde asked easily, curious now.
"I need a DNA decoder - someone capable of disassembling the constituents of a tailor-made drug and synthesising at the very least an antidote and preferably an immunisation."
Karrde frowned; that kind of specialist was hardly routine. The type who could mix up recreational drugs or break them down to be shipped in their constituent parts so they wouldn't be recognised was commonplace, but decoding complex tailor-made drugs was three steps beyond anyone Karrde could think of offhand.
"I'll see what I can track, but we don't use one ourselves. What you're talking about would necessitate an extensive lab and considerable specialist equipment. The..." he almost said it; almost said 'The Empire keep tabs on that kind of thing', but caught himself in time.
"I can provide funds to set the right individual up in the Rim System and make sure they have any equipment they need." Luke assured, knowing what Karrde was thinking, aware of what he was asking, "But they have to be very reliable and discrete."
"What would they be required to do?"
"Break down a sample of a drug I supply." Luke still didn't have a sample of the drug Palpatine used against him but, wary of giving Karrde too much information, he covered his trail a little, implying that this was for a third party. "I don't have the sample yet and I've not been given an exact date as to when it will arrive, but as soon as it does, I can turn it over."
"Species?" Karrde prompted; that kind of specialisation would probably narrow the field considerably.
"Human, as far as I know." Luke replied, taking the opportunity to further distance himself from the drug.
Karrde couldn't resist raising an eyebrow just slightly, "Playing the good samaritan or making a deal?"
"Certain concessions have been promised," Luke offered vaguely, unwilling to have a lie tied down to specifics that he may have to remember at a later date; Karrde was too sharp to let any mistake pass him by. "This is simply a gesture of good faith."
As it was, the smuggler chief considered for a few seconds before filling in the gaps with some interesting information of his own, all be it accidentally. "Would this be for a certain well-placed house named D'Arca?"
Luke's expression changed not a whit, "Why would you say that?"
Karrde shrugged, "Well they've certainly been going out of their way recently to make it known that they hold great deal of respect for the new Heir. Beladon D'Arca seems to have made it his mission to be seen to be backing you."
Which was interesting Luke reflected, since aside from a few brief words at an assortment of formal functions or in Court, he had never really spoken to the head of the high-ranking, powerful family, well placed in both the Royal Houses and the military. But he had heard his name several times recently from different sources, all saying pretty much the same thing.
"Really?" he couldn't hide the genuine interest from his voice, making Karrde frown.
"You didn't know?"
"Yes, I'm just curious as to why." Something itched in the back of his senses. Not pushing yet; not important, but there nonetheless.
"Perhaps he's just placing an each-way bet." Karrde said easily, meaning that the man was backing both Palpatine and his Heir.
"But why stick his neck out and make that public?" Luke murmured, unconvinced, "Why risk his present position?"
The smuggler shrugged to hide his surprise; this was the first time that the Heir had ever really entered into a discussion with him- actually asked his opinion. "One must speculate to accumulate. It's not enough for a family like that to be influential, they need to ensure that they maintain that power base long-term." Karrde added as a last note, with the barest hint of a pause, "So then may I assume that the D'Arca's aren't the ones with the problem?
Luke ignored the last entirely, forehead creased by a frown as he considered. "If you hear anything else, try to find what the link is between the D'Arca's and myself- the one that they're pushing publically at least."
"Do you want me to put someone on it?"
"No." Luke said slowly, still considering, "Not unless something interesting comes up. Just keep your ear to the ground."
Karrde nodded, taking a sip from the glass; so whatever game the D'Arca's were playing, The Heir wasn't personally involved- as yet. If Karrde believed him that was - which he felt he did in this instance; that had been a rare burst of genuine curiosity he'd just seen. It could have just been an act; Karrde was after all an information broker and The Heir wasn't his only client, but Karrde wasn't foolish enough to actually pass on anything said between himself and his most valued, influential client to a third party without express permission and they both knew it.
He glanced down at the glass in his hand, the taste of the Corellian brandy bringing his thoughts back to the moment; it was intensely smokey, rich and tannin-laced, like a fortified wine, "I really must remember to bring you some Ruusan brandy next time I come."
The Heir leaned back in his seat as it adjusted to conform to his relaxed pose, unoffended despite his next words, "I'm insulted; you spurn my hospitality."
"Not at all; just your brandy." Karrde left a long pause before speaking again, keeping his voice light, not looking to the Heir. "I hear you gave a shipfull of Bothans their freedom?"
The younger man glanced away, his manner instantly changing to dry and disinterested, "I'm a magnanimous man, didn't you know?"
"Actually I did - but you seem to go to such lengths to hide it normally." Karrde replied.
The Heir only smiled tightly, eyes calculating now, casual informality instantly gone. "I'm not trying to alienate the Bothan people. I was closing down a spy ring, nothing more; the fact that the group were all Bothans was incidental. I released the Attin'Cho and its crew to clarify that."
He looked meaningfully to Karrde at the last, and the Smuggler Chief knew that this information was offered with the intention that it be widely disseminated.
"I'm sure they'll be relieved to know." Karrde acknowledged; he didn't mind passing this on to a few choice people; smooth flying for his client meant smooth flying for Karrde- and that was after all, what he had dedicated his life toward.
"I have a job for you." Luke said easily, bringing Karrde's attention to the moment. "I'll need a new code; I know you like a little notice to start working one up."
Karrde frowned, surprised, "You think they've cracked the existing one? Ghent's usually better than..."
"No, they haven't." Luke assured, "But I don't intend to give them the time to try. Habits are dangerous, you know that."
Karrde put the empty glass on the table before him, voice straining as he reached forward, "Then you should definitely stop drinking Corellian brandy."
.
.
.
The comm set into the unit beside Luke's bed sounded very quietly, twice, jolting both Mara and Luke awake, then it cut off, falling silent again. Mara remained still, feeling Luke stir where her arm was draped about him.
When it sounded again he rose quickly from the bed and walked through to the main room without answering it, pulling a gown about himself as the door sliding shut behind him, leaving Mara to frown in the darkness. She glanced over at the chrono; it was still almost two hours before reveille.
Despite the closed door she could hear him slide open a drawer and fumble within for a few moments before he answered the comm, presumably from the comlink set into his desk in the main room, she realised.
"Yes?"
Silence followed, in which Mara realised that the drawer oppening must have been for him to retrieve an earpiece to take the call privately; obviously the on-off-on tone was a signal to do so. The question was, from whom? She frowned in the still silence, holding her breath, listening to the decidedly one-sided conversation;
"Yes... Yes. When?... Hn. No- bring them here... yes."
Silence fell again, and Mara held still, listening for some sound to indicate that he was returning...
The loud bang as he slammed the earpiece forcibly onto the desk made her jump despite herself, then he muttered something under his breath in a language she didn't know- Bocce maybe? It didn't matter; she knew a curse when she heard one.
He didn't return, remaining in the dark of the main room.
Eventually the door entry sounded, and a few moments later she heard him rise and open it. The murmured voices were too quiet to pick out, the conversation too brief to decipher the second party, then the door closed and a few moments later he returned to the bedroom, sliding back into bed and laying on his back with a long, low sigh.
"Problems?" Mara asked, as casually as she could muster.
Considering his normal reticence she didn't expect an answer, though she suspected that often he was guarded just out of habit, with nothing particular to hide.
"Nothing unexpected." he stated mechanically, gaze to the ceiling.
She rested her arm across his chest and felt his muscles tense slightly. When she looked up minutes later, he was still staring into the darkness, a million light-years away.
He shifted around for the next forty-five minutes before finally rising, more resigned to the fact that he wasn't able to sleep than because he wished to get up, Mara knew, but he pulled on a pair of sleeping trousers and disappear into the main room without a word.
She waited for a while, but when he didn't return and she heard no further noise, Mara eventually rose and dressed, padding quietly about the room; she needed to be up and away a good hour before reveille anyway, whilst the guards were still sluggish and before the shift change put more people into the corridors.
When she finally slid the door open, fastening her gunbelt as she did so, he was still sat in the dark in the heavy hide-covered chair before the viewpane, gazing out into space, elbows resting on the arms, fingers steepled before his mouth.
He remained still and mute when she approached, so Mara leaned down, hand resting against his chest just to touch his bare skin, kissing him lightly on the forehead when he still didn't move his hands or lift his face to her.
"I have to go." she murmured simply and he nodded, preoccupied.
Mara set across the still-darkened room, curious as to what had instigated his detached, withdrawn mood. She was three paces away, passing the polished expanse of his work-desk, when the glint of starlight on metal revealed why.
Thrown onto the desk were the two surveillance lenses she had installed into the 701st's docking bay, their shattered transmitters and Mara's viewer beside them. She'd left them on - damnit, when she'd chased after the unknown visitor in the 701st's hold, she'd left them active - and so traceable. Mara faltered to a stop, unsure what to say.
"Oh, don't forget those." he said casually without turning, "I'm sure you'll want to use them again."
His voice was completely even, without the slightest emotional tell, and it left Mara cold, uncertain of what he would do.
"I wasn't watching you." she said at last, though even she heard the petty distinction.
"You were watching mine, which amounts to the same thing." he stated, his cool reserve unnerving.
"I was charged with providing numbers of the 701st, that's all." Mara defended. She'd never been caught out before- not like this; by Luke.
"You could have simply asked." he said evenly, still turned away from her, the atmosphere charged.
"Could I?" Mara said, tensed slightly in reaction to his cool manner, though she felt under no threat. Rather, she felt energised- walking this close to danger, to untamed, unpredictable, raw emotion. Always daring herself to step closer still. "Fine, then here's a question; a man arrived in an Intel 420 Skipray last night. He stayed just over an hour then left- who was he?"
Which was not the direction Luke had expected this to go; he'd been livid- incensed that she'd set surveillance on his troops then have the gall to come here and lay beside him- and now, suddenly he was on the defensive, and he knew it.
Considering how and when they'd found her equipment, he knew she'd ask eventually, just not now. It was after all a surveillance sweep because Karrde's ship was in the hangar bay which had turned up the devices, simply because she'd happened to leave them active - presumably when she'd tried to get a better look at the unknown visitor. If she'd deactivated them before setting off, they would still be there, undetected.
But now she'd put him on the back foot by asking a question which he had no intention of answering; Karrde and his contacts were far too useful. Nor did he want to make a big issue out of refusing to answer, which would only draw more attention to the fact, particularly when he'd just told her to ask him such things- if for no other reason than to control the answers.
The only path left to him was to try to take her off-topic and to hide the avoidance behind a bigger statement. He shook his head, turning to look at her, having no real problem summoning a sense of restrained offence. "You're unreal, you know that? You spent hours last night spying on me - listing my every move so that you can go and report it all to Palpatine - and then what? You send your report, you walk over here and you just climb into bed with me without missing a beat."
She stared at him, eyes ablaze, wounded and outraged in the same moment.
Knowing her as he did, it was so easy now to just push her over the edge; "What's wrong Mara- didn't get enough information? Or is this just another regular surveillance job for you - long hours but at least you're not on your feet all day."
"You son of a barrig!" Mara stepped forward, hand pulling back to deliver a blow, but rather than the open-handed slap that most women would give, hers pulled into a tight fist, all the strength of her shoulder behind her arm as she roundhoused the blow forward.
He stepped up and in quickly, right hand out to block the blow, then at the very last second he brought his left hand in, grabbing at her arm and yanking her forwards and down so the blow missed, dragging her to him, using his own bodyweight to stop her as she barrelled into him.
His own outrage welled up in him, both at his own words - a provocation yes, but tinged in truth - and at Mara's reaction; indignation she had no right to adopt, to his mind. Darkness answered, as it always did, dropping his voice to a threatening whisper as he leaned closer, still holding her by the top of her arm, mouth so close to her ear that her hair fluttered as he hissed, "Come on Mara- you're faster than that."
She yanked her arm back intending to catch him a backwards blow across his chin with her elbow but he was too fast, leaning back and twisting away from her though he didn't release her arm.
"Please- you would have lied." Mara accused as she twisted her arm free, aware of the blind anger rising from his cool detachment now. "That's what you do - which is why this is what I do - why Palpatine put me here, you know that."
He loosed a feral grin, head tilted in warning, pale eyes hidden by twists of dark hair. "And you know what I do when I catch people who do this."
Mara had backed up two steps before she even realised it, his manner for the first time linking Luke and Palpatine in her head, but she stopped; made herself hold her ground as his whole demeanor changed, stance subtly aggressive.
"You think you're the exception? You think you've bought your immunity? Those aren't the rules Mara, you know that. If it's still okay for you to spy on me then I think I'm within my rights to retaliate, don't you? Business as usual, that's what you just said; Palpatine places his spies and I stop them- remove them. "
Mara turned to leave, aware that this time some line had been crossed, that this had slipped from argument to antagonism, from spirited quarrel to genuine, unpredictable danger. Luke sidestepped with her, slamming his hand against the wall to the side of Mara's head, blocking her exit.
Fixing his menacing gaze with an unimpressed glare she backstepped, but he stayed level with her and slammed his other hand to the wall behind her. Mara's fiery temper flared and she twisted lightening-fast to trap the hand in a pressure grip, bending his wrist against the natural movement. He reached out, grabbing her arm and twisting his own hand free in one smooth move.
She launched out with the heel of her free hand toward his face and he brought her arm which he still held across to bat down against the inside of her own elbow, stopping her blow before it made contact. Moves she'd taught him, strike and counter-strike, flawlessly timed.
It was a fast, controlled fight at very close quarters, no room for Mara to manoeuvre pressed against the wall, carried out in absolute silence, Luke using speed and strength against Mara's greater experience, the only noise that of skin contacting skin. The flurry of movement only stopped when Luke finally got a good enough hold on one of Mara's arms to pin it to the wall at head-height, wrist out-
Something hard pressed against Luke's stomach and looked down. Mara had drawn the holdout blaster from her hip and held it levelled at his midriff. He looked back up and she arched her eyebrows pointedly, "Back off."
Luke remained where he was, still holding her pinned. "You're going to shoot me now?" he asked levelly, and she held her resolve, chin lifting.
"Back off." She repeated, very serious.
"Do you really think you can hurt me with a gun, Mara?"
She felt a momentary flare of panicked doubt pressing in on her, blanketing her thoughts, and struggled free of it, realising that it wasn't her own, that he was placing it there. Setting her head to one side, she raised her eyebrows as she pushed the muzzle against his bare skin, sense as wild as his own now, outraged and furious and deadly serious.
"Why- you think you can dodge?" she asked dryly, " 'Cos I think this may be a little too close, even for you."
He loomed over her, unimpressed, "I don't need to- I drained the power out."
She hesitated just a fraction of a second, "You're bluffing."
"I never bluff Red, you know that."
Mara narrowed her eyes further, trying to see through that set, neutral expression and past the hard warning in those mismatched eyes... "You bluff occasionally..."
He didn't bother to answer, just stared down at her.
Finally she cracked a fraction. "When?"
"Last night." He tilted his head just slightly, "I don't mind sleeping with a poisonous viper but I'm not about to let it bite."
Incensed, Mara had pulled the trigger before she even knew what she was doing...
.
The compact blaster let out an exhausted cough, insufficient gas in the chamber to ignite.
Neither of them moved for long seconds, blue eyes locked on green as the silence stretched to shatter-point...
Finally Luke let out a low sigh in the back of his throat, part amusement, part exasperation, his arm muscles bunching as he pushed away from the wall, releasing her, the moment of raw anger dispersed by the outrageous act; Luke Skywalker stepping free from the influence of Palpatine's Wolf.
"We are two of the most screwed up people I've ever met."
Mara too grinned, the burst of edgy adrenaline making her giddy, "Fortunately we found each-other. Anybody else and I think we'd have killed them by now."
He turned, unoffended, "I can't believe you pulled the trigger."
"You called me a viper!" she defended lightly.
He walked away toward the fresher, his morning routine continuing as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Mara followed, dropping her blaster on the bed as she passed, choosing not to notice the tremble in her hand.
"Do you always empty my blaster?" She knew this wasn't the case- she'd have noticed.
"No." he replied, raising his voice over the sound of the water, "I didn't last night either."
Frowning, Mara backstepped into the bedroom to pick up her blaster and turn it over to check the power- it was almost full.
She leaned on the fresher doorframe, the fine, warm mist from the water shower cloying, "How did you do that?"
"Made it misfire. With the Force."
She nodded, impressed, "Neat trick. I've never heard..." Mara paused, realising, "I knew you were bluffing!"
He shrugged, his back to her now, the water streaming off his body, "It doesn't work every time. If there's already enough gas in the chamber to ignite..."
She stared at him, amazed and disturbed that he'd let her pull the trigger when he could so easily have stopped her - why the hell hadn't he stopped her?! She shook her head slowly, murmuring to herself, "You and your stupid 'Fate', Skywalker."
What the hell was going on in his head that had made him prepared to take that kind of gamble again and again? Another thought occurred, taking her mind away from that disturbing question as she was suddenly uncomfortably aware that she could have shot Luke Skywalker in the belly at close range...
That was how furious he could make her. Was this what normal people did in the passion of the moment- or was Skywalker right and they were both just way too screwed up?
Then again, even she tended not to actually shoot people for calling her names, and Skywalker sure as hell wasn't in the habit of letting people take potshots at him with impunity...
Was this... love? Or at least as near as they could get in their twisted, warped little world. Because she knew exploitation and she knew manipulation, and it didn't feel like this. She continued to stare at his back, at once elated and energized... and deeply disquieted.
"In or out?" he said evenly, without turning.
"What?" she asked, roused from her reverie.
"In or out - it's cold and I'm naked here."
She grinned, stepping forward into the steam-filled 'fresher, "Well in, naturally."