Tales from the Jedi Academy
Chapter One – Homecoming, Part One
With a roar of sublight engines, the transport shuttle entered Yavin IV's atmosphere.
Mara Jade, former Emperor's Hand and current smuggler, grimaced as the blocky ship rattled slightly from reentry. Skywalker needs to shell out a few more credits for a decent mechanic, she thought. Another rumble caused the vessel's airframe to vibrate, and she tightened her grip on the arm of her acceleration couch. Or better yet, a decent pilot.
The pilot in question, a young man dressed in a New Republic military fatigues, twisted in his seat towards the rear of the shuttle where over a dozen prospective students lounged in their seats as they waited for the end of their journey. "We'll be at the Academy in just a few minutes," he reported.
Mara bit back the urge to remind the pilot to keep his eyes on his instruments; getting in an argument with the shuttle jockey would be a wonderful way to vent her anxiety, but it probably wouldn't endear her to any of the other potential Jedi. Normally she wouldn't give a womp rat's backside what other beings thought of her–in her experience, the less attention, the better–but at the same time she knew that for better or for worse she would be spending the next several weeks, if not months, with the occupants of the shuttle. It'd be a rotten first impression, she told herself, not entirely convinced as she shifted her position on the couch to run a calculating gaze over the others. Mara had chosen a window seat near the front of the shuttle, allowing her to keep an eye on the cockpit, the view outside…and the other passengers. Almost everyone else had opted to mingle near the middle seats, and many were conversing in hushed voices.
It was a motley bunch of recruits–students, she reminded herself–collected from all over the New Republic. Humans, Twi'Leks, Zabrak, Kel'Dor, Bothans, Sullustans …all of them had come to Yavin IV to study the ways of the Force and become Jedi Knights. The guardians of peace and justice throughout the galaxy.
Mara snorted, then jerked slightly as yet another shudder ran through the shuttle. Blasted rookie, she thought furiously. Mara knew that she was a great pilot; she'd been flying for Karrde for years now, and as an Emperor's Hand she'd been trained to pilot a variety of ships.
The downside of those skills, however, was that she was a terrible passenger.
She was a heartbeat from getting up and telling the pilot to give up the controls when she felt someone sit down beside her.
Mara turned to her left to see a human male with brown hair and eyes, barely into his twenties. He was dressed in a faux-knockoff of the vest, tunic, and boots she'd seen some of Skywalker's older Jedi wearing. On them, it looked almost regal. On this kid, it looked like a Life Day celebration costume. The other students hadn't bothered with anything resembling Jedi tunics or robes, and were dressed in a variety of styles befitting their respective homeworlds. Mara herself was attired in a violet bantha-hide jacket and brown pants with boots, with her BlasTech and lightsaber riding on either hip. She'd left her sleeve blaster with Aves on Coruscant, warning him what would happen if he managed to lose it. Her red hair, normally held up in a tie while she was doing business with one of Talon's many associates, had been let down to her shoulders.
The youngster noticed Mara's sideways glance and favored her with a grin. "This is gonna be so great," he said conspiratorially.
When Mara turned away and rolled her eyes, she felt him slide closer to her. "Aren't you excited?" he asked eagerly, and she glanced back to find that he was practically leaning over her. "We're going to be Jedi! Learning the ways of the Force, building a lightsaber–"
Mara placed a hand on his chest and gave him a not-so-gentle push away. "That's great, kid. Now, do you think you can bear to be more than three centimeters from my face?"
Mara had the guilty satisfaction of seeing her new friend's grin fall from his face like a leaky coolant in reaction to the sharpness of her tone, and he took a small step back. "I–I'm sorry, I didn't mean–"
Mara sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Wonderful. So much for avoiding attention. A few of the other students were already throwing her looks for her outburst. "It's okay. Just a little personal space, huh?"
The youth nodded enthusiastically, sitting back down beside her. "Yeah, sure. I'm Rosh, by the way. Rosh Penin."
Mara nodded and turned to face the viewport, a subtle hint that she wanted to be alone with her thoughts for the moment. The shuttle was skimming the tops of the trees now, barely a dozen meters above the canopy as it came in for an approach to the Academy. Mara could see a handful of the ancient Massassi temples that dotted the rainforests all over this side of the moon, and her thoughts wandered to the last time she had visited the Academy. It had been years, and she hadn't left gracefully. After Kyp Durron had stolen her personal Z-95–she gritted her teeth at the memory–the starfighter she had flown to Yavin the first time she'd been here, she had become angry and anxious to leave, cutting her training off almost before it began. Most of the other students had probably thought she was a quitter; it was a good thing she hadn't bothered to connect with most of them.
Except for Corran.
Mara smiled absently at the thought of the Corellian, remembering their time together at the Academy. Outside of Karrde's organization, Mara had very few true friends…and Corran was someone she considered a very close friend, especially after their run-in with Exar Kun's millennia-old spirit in the Sith Lord's sanctum. His body badly damaged by the spirit of Kun, his mind tormented by false images of his kidnapped wife and his dead father, yet Corran had still summoned the resolve to weakly taunt Kun's Force ghost defiantly. A true-blooded Corellian, Mara thought wryly. She'd later learned that Corran, with help from Skywalker and a number of others, had succeeded in tracking down the Imperials who had stolen his wife away from him and had rescued her. Good for you.
She wondered if he was still at the Academy, or if his duties in Rogue Squadron had–
"So, what's your name?"
Mara blinked and turned back to Rosh, snapping out of her reverie. He was leaning on the armrest between them with his fingers locked in his lap, staring intently at her as he waited for an answer. Pup doesn't know when to give up, does he? she thought.
"Mara," she replied after a moment's hesitation, making a command decision on the spot. If I'm going to spend the foreseeable future with these people, I might as well make an effort to get to know them, she reasoned. Normally she stopped asking questions after names were exchanged and preferred to quietly observe and collect data…but Rosh didn't seem like the silent type.
In fact, he didn't seem like the solitary type, either. Mara noticed he was quietly massaging his knuckles in his lap, the joints popping as he did so. "Fidgety thing, aren't you?" she remarked.
Rosh glanced up in a rodent-like motion and shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. "I can't help it; I wanna make a good impression…"
"Well, the first thing you need to do is calm down," Mara said. "You seem pretty nervous."
"Aren't you?" Rosh asked, mild surprise evident in his voice. He glanced down–"Oh, well, why would you be?" he corrected, nodding at the hilt clipped to her waist. "You've already got a lightsaber, so you're probably way ahead of me!"
Mara leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms, a disquieted look passing briefly over her features. "Yeah, well, looks can be deceiving," she answered.
Rosh noticed the shift in her mood their topic had brought, so he apparently decided to change the subject. "So, where'd you get that lightsaber?" he asked innocently.
Mara was silent for a moment as memories flashed through her mind. Skywalker…finding his ruined fighter in the middle of deep space, taking him to Karrde's base on Myrkr as a captive, and then subsequently letting him go after Solo and Calrissian had showed up…helping him rescuing Karrde from Grand Admiral Thrawn's personal Star Destroyer, the battle for the Katana fleet…the trek through the jungle on Wayland…and the final battle with the mad clone of Jorus C'baoth.
The battle where Mara had saved Skywalker's life.
His words echoed through her mind as she saw the two of them standing on the roof of the Imperial Palace afterwards. He'd handed her his old lightsaber, the one that had been made by his father and passed down to him by Obi-Wan Kenobi, the final link to his past. When she had asked why, he'd simply shrugged and said, Because you earned it. Because you're on your way to becoming a Jedi and you'll need it.
Mostly, though, because I want you to have it.
"Mara?"
For the second time in a handful of minutes, Rosh's voice jerked her out of her past. He was still waiting for an answer to his question.
Mara offered him a sad smile and shook her head. "It's a long story."
Rosh shrugged and glanced towards the cockpit. "We've got time. I'd guess it'll take our pilot at least ten minutes to land this crate without smashing into the Great Temple."
Despite herself, Mara smiled. "I thought I was the only one who noticed his lack of appreciable talent."
Rosh mirrored her smile and stretched his arms on the back of the acceleration couch. "Yeah, well…when you've been flying all your life you tend to spot things like that."
"You're a pilot?" Mara asked skeptically.
"Well no, but I grew up on Coruscant. If you want to get anywhere on that planet, you'd better know how to fly. Speeders or starships–"
Wonderful, Mara thought as Rosh launched into an anecdote about his background. Another hotshot flyboy. At least he isn't from a farm–
"–was born on Agamar, but I don't really remember much about it. Except for the fields, I loved to go and–"
–typical.
"But enough about me," Rosh said abruptly. He turned to face Mara again, and she was slightly surprised at the innocence–and naiveté–in his eyes. "You gonna tell me where you got your lightsaber?"
Mara hesitated, then conceded with a half-shrug. Why not? "Well, I guess the best place to start would be–"
Mara's danger sense flared like a landing beacon, but before she could detect what direction the threat was coming from the shuttle jolted again, much harder. Not from reentry or pilot error; something had hit them.
"Repulsorlifts are failing!" the pilot cried out as he wrestled with the control stick. "Hold on!" The ship jerked again, and this time Mara heard something give in the aft section with a screech of tearing metal. Several of the students screamed in fear as the shuttle began losing altitude rapidly. Through the viewport she could see the dense jungle rising up to meet them–
The shuttle smashed into the top of the canopy, snapping ancient tree trunks like toothpicks. The impact sent Mara flying forward, and the last thing she saw was the seat in front of her rushing to meet her head.
