Last thing Mara could remember was C'baoth exploding in a surge of dark energy in front of her.
Gingerly, she opened her eyes, which instantly stung at the harsh light of the room. Rubbing the bridge of her nose she let her body adjust from however long it had been out of commission.
Glancing around, it couldn't have been too long since the battle. They weren't back on Coruscant yet, but they weren't on the Falcon or the Wild Karrde either. At a guess she would say she was on a Mon Cal Cruiser, possibly one sent to pick up the group since their mission was a success.
Or she assumed it was a success since she was still breathing and there weren't alarms going off, either on the ship or in her head.
With a groan she swung her legs off the medical bed and reached for a robe to slip over her body. Med-wards never did still well with her, and since she seemed to be all patched up and no wires attached, the sooner she was out, the better.
Stepping out of her room, the corridor was silent save for the hum of machinery. She had a decent idea of the layout of the ship and figured she could find the bridge easily enough. Someone she knew might be there, or at least be able to point her in the direction of her friends.
Mara stopped in her tracks at the thought. Could it be true? Mara, the Emperor's Hand who had for so long wanted revenge for everything that had happened between the Empire and the Rebels, was now friends with said Rebels?
Sometimes… fate was funny that way.
Shaking her head, she took a few more steps towards the lift when she peaked inside one of the other med rooms. Much to her pleasure, and dismay, Luke was laying on the bed. He had been almost as close as she had when the Dark Jedi expired, and the building was set to blow up if Calrissian and the Wookiee had done their job.
Glancing over his body, he didn't have any bacta patches or wires denoting any kind of major injury, which made her breath a little easier. Luke was asleep though; his slow breathing and gentle features making him look younger, less haggard from the last few months of trials at the hands of Thrawn.
"Who's there," he mumbled as she entered the room, his head turning towards her, revealing his bright blue eyes.
"It's Mara," she answered as she came to stand by the side of his bed.
"Mara?" he sounded groggy, and she wondered if he had suffered a head wound or concussion.
"I'm glad you're okay," she sat down on the edge of the bed next to him, "I honestly didn't think we'd get out of there alive."
"Um," his brow dropped as he tried to formulate words.
"I know," she had to smile, "gratitude coming from me can be rather shocking."
"Actually—"
Mara cut him off, "It's okay, it's more than shocking to me, I wanted to kill you after all, and you were possibly my biggest mark."
"Mark?" he raised an eyebrow.
"It's just a term," she shrugged, figuring he would know, but explained anyway, "something used to denote a target in an assassination."
He swallowed a cough, "You don't want to assassinate me anymore, right?"
"Of course not," she let out a chuckle and patted his hand, "quite the opposite."
He raised his eyebrow again, his jaw slacking up just a bit, "Um, Mara—"
"Just hear me out," she cut him off again, needing to get this out in the open. "I was wrong about you. I believed the lies that Palpatine fed me but they were just that, lies. I'm so sorry that I didn't see it before."
Luke was silent for a moment as she averted her eyes, then he turned his hand over under hers and held it gently.
Staring down at their joined hands and the gentleness of his touch, she gained strength to continue. "I should never have believed the Emperor, you're a good man. You stood by me, practically sacrificed yourself for me when I was nothing but trouble for you."
"You couldn't have been that bad," he replied.
"You know I was, Skywalker," she chuckled though, feeling better by the minute, "but you still stood by me."
He started to open his mouth but she pressed on, "I've never had many friends in my life, but I'd be honored if you let me call you a friend, and who knows… maybe once we get all this straightened out with Thrawn, I don't know… we might…"
"Mara?" the voice came from behind her, which caused her to tense, as it should have been coming from the man lying on the bed.
Whipping her head around she was met by the face of Luke Skywalker, Jedi and former enemy, his body dressed in his typical blacks with a dark robe thrown back off his shoulders. Mara's head jerked back and forth between the two men.
"What the kriffing bantha fodder is going on here?" Mara jumped off the bed and scurried to the other side of the room away from the two.
"Mara," the robed Luke said gently, unthreateningly, to get her attention, "I'm the real Luke Skywalker, this man, is my clone."
"Your clone?" Mara thought her head was going to explode; maybe it was her who had the concussion. "I killed him!"
"Yes," he nodded, "but this is a different clone."
"Wait?" the man on the bed spoke up, "she killed one of us?"
"Cleaved him in two with a lightsaber," Luke commented easily, "but it's okay, she had to."
"Oh," he didn't sound too convinced, "that's comforting."