A/N: I do not own Star Wars. This is something I just wrote in a moment of inspiration
She was my rock when Mirax died. The death of my wife at the hands of the Invids ruined any chances of the future we had dreamed of together. No longer would there be an "us." No longer would there be somebody that I could plan my future with. No longer would the one person that I wanted to have my children be able to. Until I met her.
In the years following Mirax's death, I slowly lost contact with Booster. I know he, like myself, blamed me for her death. And every night as I lay in the bed we used to share, I kept thinking that he was right. Why wouldn't it be my fault? I spent too much damn time off playing hermit with Skywalker. What did I gain from those weeks of seclusion? Nothing. The only thing beneficial from that whole experience was that Luke was able to prevent me from going to berserk. While the dark side beckoned, I somehow resisted. Not by embracing the light, but by cutting off the force entirely.
By the sixth month after her death, I had already sold our apartment. Her clothes had been packed up by Wedge and sent off to the Errant Venture. The only thing I kept of her was the Pulsar Skate. For some reason she had left it to me and not her father. I chalked that up as another reason why he was furious with me.
After that first six month leave, I was back with the Rogues. But it was never the same. Shooting down Imps and Invids only made the void in my chest continue to expand. Flying with the Rogues just continued to remind me of the part of me that was torn away. Tycho and Wedge tried their hardest to keep me going but at the end of the day, the Rogues were no longer for me. The day I resigned from the Rogues is when Wedge decided to pull out the big guns. He went to my ex-partner Iella. But even then I just couldn't connect with her anymore. Until Mirax's death, I had never realized how much she had become integrated into every part of my life.
And so, exactly 18 months after she died, I packed up my X-Wing, Whistler and took off in my wife's most beloved treasure, heading out to do exactly what I despised for years and years. Smuggling. And that's where I re-connected with the women who became my rock. She took me under her wing and showed me the tricks of the trade. Eventually, after I realized I was never going to make it on my own, I gave in to her requests and joined Karrde's organization as a captain, running some of his more dangerous operations out of the Baudo-class Yacht.
I guess I began seeing her in a different light when I was convinced to return to Coruscant to walk my best friend down the aisle at her wedding to my former commanding officer. And not wanting to face the demons of my past, I asked her, my direct superior in Karrde's operation. To my surprise, she agreed wholeheartedly. That night at the reception was one of the happiest moments of my life as I decided to take that first step once more.
Our bliss was short lived however as times to be together grew few and far in between. With the Corellian Insurrection and the shattering of the New Republic over the Caamas Document, there was just no time for us anymore. And while that void that had started to close began to reopen again, the worst case scenario came.
That's what brings us here to today. The last stand of the free peoples of the galaxy against the Vong. Both of us stood in the city streets of Bastion, providing the last line of defense for Admiral Pellaeon. Ironic, huh?
As the sky became streaked with plasma fire, I turned to her and watched her long red mane of hair flow in the wind as she brought up her lightsaber in a vertical slashing motion cutting the warrior looming over me in half. It was at this moment of time where I was finally able to let go of my past and ask her the one question that truly mattered.
"Mara, will you marry me?"