It's a lonely life, but it's one of her own choosing. And at least she can find peace in that.
During the first year after the Emperor's last command, the long stretches of silence are eerie. She watches the stars and expects to hear his voice in her head, but then there is nothing but the warm thrum of her ship's engine. She gets used to it; learns to love it.
The darkness still weaves in and out of her dreams, but when she wakes up she knows who she is-knows that her choices are hers and hers alone. She is learning to be a person and not a tool, but she finds it surprisingly harder than she had expected.
There are moments though when she chooses company: pretty, uncomplicated fly boys with faces and bodies attractive enough to be a distraction but unremarkable enough to be forgotten by the time her ship has broken the planet's atmosphere. It keeps things simple for a life that has been far too complicated up until now, and she wants to keep it that way.
But Mara slips, makes the first mistake when she volunteers to drop a shipment of supplies to Yavin IV. It's out of her way, it brings her no career advantages. There's no one she owes a favor. She makes the choice, and it is hers and hers alone.
"To what do I owe this pleasure?" he says, meeting her in the hanger bay, clasping her by the forearm with his hands, an intimate gesture, his blue eyes bright. Uncharacteristically, she let his hands linger there until he pulls them away himself, and she feels a wry smile on her face, surprising herself at how natural it feels.
"Skywalker, you understand that this isn't a social call, don't you?"
"Can't it be both?"
"It can," she says "but it isn't," but she is conscious of the bravado in her voice, aware that it makes her sound like she is hiding something.
He shows her around his fledgling academy and spares her too many introductions to the over-eager students stumbling around in their Jedi robes like children playing dress up. And Mara lingers longer than she intends, letting him take her on a walk to the edge of the forest.
"I grew up on Tatooine and you on Coruscant; this is about as far away from home as we can get, isn't it?" he says. "Can't say I miss the sand." He touches the outstretched leaves of a tree with his mechanical hand just as Mara is moved by the same impulse. She draws back at his touch, embarrassed. He stills, tilted head, eyes suddenly unfocused though he is looking directly at her.
"What?" she says, but Luke just shakes his head.
Mara looks over her shoulder and sees the sun beginning to set behind the Massassi temples.
"We should probably get back," he says, and she agrees with a nod of the head, finding it hard to speak for a moment.
He bids her farewell on the ramp to her ship, pausing mid-goodbye to point to the lightsaber tucked underneath her cloak. His lightsaber. Hers now.
"Do you think you might come and train here one day, Mara? You'd be such an asset to the other students."
"And what, become a Jedi master? That doesn't sound right, does it, now?"
"I don't see why not."
She sighs, leans against her ship, exasperation creeping into her voice, "It's not right for me, at least not right now."
"I'd love it then if you'd let me know when it is right for you."
"Do you plan on living forever, then, Skywalker?" But she says that with a grin, and he smiles back, and Mara wonders, what an odd sort of inside joke to have with him of all people.
"Probably not if you have any say in it."
"I'll see you when I see you, Skywalker."
"It was wonderful to see you, Mara," he says, "truly," and the last part unnerves her so that she just nods before blasting away in her ship.
They don't see one another again for another year, year in a half, not in person at least. Mara gets busy with work-a long-term job that involves Lando Calrissian, and other responsibilities as she climbs up the ranks in Karrde's organization. Luke is busy building his Jedi Academy, though he sends her messages through the holonet now and again, sometimes notes of encouragement or a question for the Smuggler's Alliance, sometimes a little joke or a memory from the time they first met. But mostly to harass her into coming to the academy. But it never quite sits right with her, though, the requests, and she declines each time.
She doesn't see him again in person until she picks him up off the Eye of Palpatine, and those unfocused eyes she saw back on Yavin are directed at someone who is not her. What she sees-what she feels in that moment-makes Mara shake when she finds herself alone in the cockpit.
She tries to shrug it off; goes back to her pretty, uncomplicated fly boys and her uncomplicated life. But she finds herself wanting something messier, someone more remarkable.
The darkness still weaves in and out of her dreams, and when she wakes up she knows who she is-knows that her choices are hers and hers alone. And it's a lonely life, one of her own choosing, but something has changed, and she finds that she can no longer find peace in that.
