Star Wars

Union: Jaded Memory

By Violetlight

Based on the Union comic series by Michael Stackpole.

Timeline: early 20ABY, issue 4, Union

Disclaimer:Star Wars doesn't belong to me, no matter how much I may wish otherwise. It belongs to George Lucas, with Mara Jade being Timothy Zahn's creation. I'm just borrowing them. Andorra, however, is my character so please don't use her without my permission.

This story ties into my other Star Wars story, "Penelope". Please give it a read too!


The Mandelorians have a saying, "family is more than blood", and never has that seemed so true than when I thought of you, my sister. Remember jumping on the bed, daring each other to touch the ceiling? Or swearing behind my parents' backs in some obscure language, just to find out Dad knew exactly what we had just said, or running around the Imperial Palace like wild things after your Hand training sessions, while Mom was talking to the Emperor?

No, I suppose you don't. That's what Dad told me, anyway, after he met you on the Chimaera. "Mara was the Emperor's creature, Andorra, and now she is Karrde's. Once an Emperor's Hand has pledged her loyalty to someone, there's no turning her."

But what about our pledge, our promise? The one we swore to each other long before any promise to our elders. We promised to be sisters forever, no matter what the grownups said. I remember that last night, us huddled under the covers together, hiding from the world, then Mom sneaking us out of the apartment in the middle of the night to the spaceport and the ship that would take us away from Coruscant, away from Palpatine, away from the ones trying to separate us, only to find the monster waiting for us; the black-clad, heavy breathing Sith monster who took you away from me forever.

For the longest time, I refused to believe it really was forever, that despite whatever Force trickery the Emperor used to erase your memory of our sisterhood, of all that in his arrogance he deemed "unnecessary", that deep down inside, you somehow remembered. That you somehow knew you had a family waiting for you. That's how it would have worked in one of Mom's books, one day you'd remember and find me, and we could be sisters again.

But life isn't a fairy tale.

You never did remember. Dad said that all you recognized him as was as the Emperor's secret Grand Admiral, not as your former foster father. That you even tried to Force-choke him when he found you again. If you had remembered even for a second how he used to sit us both on his knees and read to us, telling us stories from across the galaxy, you never would have done that. And if you didn't remember Dad, you wouldn't remember Mom either.

Or me.

Do you remember our nicknames for each other, Fire and Ice? You, with your hair like dancing flames, eyes like green lasers and an equally hot temper. Me, cool and calculating, blue as a winter sky, you said, with eyes like rubies, cold and jewel-like. We complemented each other, our strengths and weaknesses were opposite. You'd take action, I'd study, you as quick and ruthless as a lava flow, me as patient and relentless as a glacier.

I guess that's why I'm here now. I stubbornly haven't given up on you, on the hope that you would remember our sisterhood. Even now, on your wedding day.

I see you appear at the beginning of the aisle, Karrde holding your arm for that strange human custom of "giving away" the bride. You're dressed all in white, an unusual design for a wedding dress, but it gives me hope. White, the colour of selfless duty and utmost authority, like our Mother's state gown as Empress, our Father's Grand Admiral uniform. Is that why you chose that colour? Even if it was no more than a subconscious association, at least that's something.

Your husband-to-be fidgets nervously. Jedi Master? You'd never know it. He still has that startled, just out of the sand look to him, still a farmboy at heart. But when I see his eyes meet yours, my doubts float away. It's the same look Davin gives me, of love, devotion, trust, understanding, friendship, like you're the only one in the entire universe that matters to him.

I should be feeling disappointed, but for some reason, I'm not. I had wanted to stand up, throw off the hologram disguising myself as a human, and tell you that you didn't have to do this, that you have a home and family. The Empire doesn't need you to sacrifice yourself to the Republic, peace can last without you degrading yourself to marrying the one you once wanted to kill. Come home to Nirauan with me, Mara! We can be Princesses of the Hand together! But with the way Skywalker looked at you, I can't bring myself to do it.

I look down instead at the simple silver ring gracing my own finger. Davin and mine's engagement has gotten just as much criticism as yours and Luke's. What right does the Princess of the Hand, the heir to the throne, have to marry for as undutiful a reason as love, especially to a human? Fel or not, we will never be able to have children. The Nuruodo line would end. But my mother was never one to listen to such gossips. She, an Aristocra's daughter, married a commoner banished for breaking the most sacred of military laws. Mom never looked back, and why should I?

Why should you?

Luke loves you. He loves you in that special, indescribable way that happens so very rarely, to so few people. Even if you did come back to Nirauan with me, you would be miserable. Mom suffered so badly after Dad died, her smiles faded, her eyes always glistened with unshed tears. I was so afraid she'd just let herself fade into nothingness, and if it wasn't for our brother Shran, our father's last gift to her, she would have. If I took you away from Luke now, you would be the same way. I can't do that to you.

Later, after the commotion with the disgruntled Imperial Luke coaxed into surrender, after everything's back to normal, well, as normal as anything can be on Coruscant, I see you at the reception. Every few seconds though, you're talking to someone new. Talking to the bride at a wedding is really difficult! But my patience pays off.

"Mara Jade?" I ask, then whisper, "Fire?"

You turn around and look at me questionably. "Mara Jade Skywalker now," you correct me. "Do I know you?"

"We once knew each other, in the Empire, a long time ago. You knew me as Ice." I pause, waiting to see if the name brings even a raised eyebrow, any sign of recognition. Nothing.

"I'm sorry, but I can't remember right now where I've seen you before. It must have been on one of my missions." You frown. "This is really starting to bother me."

"It's not important," I resign. "I just wanted to wish you the best, that's all. You deserve it."

"Thanks. You should stop by the Jedi Temple after my honeymoon. It's not everyday I meet an old colleague. Most of them are dead." At least your directness hasn't changed.

"I'll see what I can do," I answer, but even as I say it, I know I won't. You're starting on a new chapter of your life, one where I don't think I belong. Our paths have been going in different directions for so long, mine with the Empire of the Hand, yours now with the Jedi, and I don't think they will, or even should, meet again for a while. I hope Luke brings you the happiness and peace that you have been craving, Mara. You do deserve that much.

Even if you never remember our childhood together, I will. You're my sister, you always will be, no matter what the "grownups" say.

I promise you, I will always remember, for the both of us.