The Little Emperor's Hand
.
.
.
A/N1:Major AU story!
Timeframe: The main body of this story begins shortly after ESB.
.
.
A/N2: I do not own Star Wars.
.
.
Prologue:
200 ABY
The pitter-patter of little feet sang throughout the marble corridors as a young girl eagerly swept through one exhibit after another in the Museum of Galactic History. In her nine years, she did not comprehend much of what she saw in the museum, but she did understand the art and artifacts she encountered.
She loved seeing the animal skeletons in the natural history section, which proudly displayed the remains of hundreds of species found scattered about the vast galaxy. She also loved looking at the holos that accompanied written displays, since it was nice to get a visual of what the journalists were trying to explain.
Walking behind the child at a much more sedate pace was an elderly woman, her silvery hair pulled back in a neat bun at the crown of her head while she clasped a shawl about her aging shoulders. But despite her age, she held herself with a certain pride that came from knowing she came from the Solo line.
Jerati Solo looked up to where her granddaughter skipped along; keeping her in visual range to make sure she didn't get into trouble. She smiled when the girl suddenly braked to a halt, her arms flailing as she struggled to regain her balance.
Jerati lifted a brow, curious as to what had caused such a reaction from her granddaughter. When she at last caught up with the child, she noted the odd tilt to her head and the open curiosity about her find.
"Grandma, what's that?" she asked, pointing to something hung upon the wall.
Jerati followed the child's gaze, and felt her breath catch in her throat. Stars… she had forgotten all about that painting! How could she have? She used to gaze at it for hours when she was younger; dreaming about what it would have been like to actually meet the artwork's subjects.
A rare find these days— even more so than when the painting had been created— the canvas sported the image of a couple that was very much in love. A man blessed with blond hair and the bluest eyes Jerati had ever known to exist held a woman with red-gold hair, piercing green eyes, and porcelain skin.
They were not looking at the artist, but rather each other: and the love they shared was obvious in the way the man smiled just so and how the woman's hand caressed his face tenderly.
"Grandma?" the child asked again, breaking into Jerati's musing.
Jerati blinked to clear her mind, and then smiled down at her granddaughter.
"That, Karrie, is a painting." Jerati explained.
"A painting?" Karrie sounded awe-struck. "I've heard of them in school but I haven't ever seen one!"
Jerati smiled. "Yes, they are very hard to come by nowadays."
Karrie reached out as if to touch it, but stayed her hand just shy of doing so. "Who are they, Grandma?"
"That, my dear, is Luke Skywalker and his wife Mara Jade Skywalker," Jerati said with reverence. "They are our ancestors from the time of the Empire and the founding of the New Republic, which later became the Galactic Alliance."
"You mean…" Karrie gasped, her excitement mounting. "We are related to Luke Skywalker? The Luke Skywalker?!"
"Yes." Jerati chuckled. "The one and the same."
"Wow!" Karrie murmured.
They gazed at the picture for a long moment, each lost in their own thoughts until Karrie turned to Jerati.
"How did they meet?" she asked.
"Ah." Jerati gestured to a bench on the opposite side of the hall. "That, Karrie, is a long tale, one that begins with a little back-story."
Once they were both seated, Karrie gave her grandmother her full attention, eager to hear of her ancestors. Her mind was awhirl with the thought that she shared blood with the greatest Jedi Master of that era. No one, at least in Karrie's opinion, had ever come close to Skywalker's achievements.
And she had heard stories of the gentle man behind the rough Jedi exterior, and had often wondered about him.
Karrie abruptly realized that Jerati had stopped speaking; probably noticing the child's wandering mind.
She offered a sheepish grin. "Sorry, Grandma. I was just picturing what it would have been like to meet him."
Jerati sighed wistfully. "I cannot tell you how many hours I have spent thinking that very same thing, Karrie."
The girl smiled. "You daydreamed too?"
"I did." Jerati tapped Karrie's nose fondly. "But let's not tell anyone okay?"
"Okay." Karrie giggled.
"Now, where was I?" Jerati pursed her lips. "Ah, yes… Mara Jade. You see, she was in a tough spot when she and Luke first met. You see, she was raised by Emperor Palatine to become his servant."
Karrie gasped in horror. "Mara was a Sith?"
"No, that was Darth Vader's role." Jerati corrected. "Mara was an agent of the Empire. She answered to Palpatine and him alone. She did his bidding, and she was very good at her job."
Karrie looked at the woman in the painting again, seeing her in a new light.
"Mara doesn't look like an agent of the Emperor." She frowned.
"That's because she stopped being his Hand soon after the Rebellion left Hoth," Jerati said.
"Hand?"
"Her official title was Emperor's Hand." Jerati informed the child.
"Oh." Karrie thought for a moment. "What changed?"
Jerati smiled. Karrie was indeed a Solo: sharp as a vibroblade.
"She did," Jerati replied. "Shortly after meeting her future husband, actually."
"Tell me the story, Grandma?" Karrie's eyes were alight with wonder. "Please?"
"Very well." Jerati settled back against the wall. "It begins with Mara, who was starting to chafe under her master's all-controlling rule over her life…"