Tyranny Reborn
A/N: Sorry for the delay. I made the mistake of visiting Wookieepedia for research and was again exposed to the monumental amount of pure suck in post-TLC Star Wars canon. And, once again, what Del Rey did to Mara hit me and I got annoyed all over again.
School resumed on the 18th and I'm taking a very time-intensive research-based history course this semester so chapter 8 will be quite slow in coming. Point of fact, I haven't even started writing it, so busy am I.
Replies at the bottom.
Chapter 7
THE scream woke him instantly.
It wasn't a vocal cry, but rather a psychic one that rang through the Force like a tsunami of fear, spurring Luke out of his bed before he was fully aware that he was moving. He was halfway across the room by the time his brain caught up with his reflexes and he came fully awake, but even then his stride did not falter. Urgency caused him to hit the door release button harder than necessary and he was stepping into the hallway beyond even before the door fully opened.
Wincing at the brightness of the corridor outside his room, Luke darted toward another doorway across the hall, ignoring the curious looks of the two Kaminoan sentries standing near the distant lift as he did. He jabbed at the door annunciator but, when the device bleated a harsh 'no entry' rejection alarm, he reached into electronics of the locking mechanism with the Force and pushed. Without further delay, the door curled open.
Luke was two steps into the darkened room when a wave of malice washed over him. Instantly, he strengthened his mental shields, gritting his teeth in pain as psychic knives seemed to tear and rip at him. Without warning, the room exploded into a whirlwind of hatred and fury. Wind wailed as though a hurricane had penetrated the interior of Tipoca City and Luke was assailed by flying chairs he reflexively batted aside with the Force. A shriek of protesting metal vibrated through the floor as the dining table was ripped from where it had been bolted down and tumbled through the air toward him.
And at the very epicenter of this maelstrom was Mara Jade.
She wasn't conscious but Luke instantly knew she was responsible for the psychic storm as waves of the Force pulsed from where she twisted and groaned on her bed. Her every muscle visibly trembled as she struggled against the horrific nightmare plaguing her and she whimpered incoherently. She clutched the sodden sheets entangled around her body tightly, holding onto the cloth as if her entire life depended upon it.
Forcing himself to relax, Luke quickly erected a shield around his body with the Force and extended his awareness. He took a step toward Mara, gesturing briefly at the table spinning toward him; it froze in mid-air and Luke returned his attention to the woman before him. Tentatively, he lowered his mental barriers and reached out to Mara with the Force. Images assailed him, burying him under a layer of blood-soaked memories and crippling terror.
He was fifteen and on Coruscant. His heart was racing as he stared at the man face down on the floor before him. This wasn't the first sentient he'd killed, nor would it be the last, but something about this particular target caused him to hesitate. The Master had ordered this man's death, had instructed Luke to see to it immediately and had specifically stated that there could be no witnesses. The man had cowered and whimpered and pled for mercy, begging that Luke spare his family, but that was something Luke could not do. Already, the man's mate was dead and his newborn son was next. No witnesses, the Master had insisted but Luke stared at the screaming child with trepidation. How could an infant be a threat? He hesitated, wondering if he could avoid murdering the innocent and lie to his Master about the child's fate. Searing pain burned through Luke's mind then as his Master sensed the flicker of disloyalty. No witnesses, his Master mindscreamed and Luke reached for the child, nausea welling up within his stomach…
With a gasp, Luke tore himself free of the moment and took another step forward. He recognized the flavor of Mara's mind as she struggled against the weight of despair and Skywalker fought to maintain his equilibrium in the wake of the gruesome images flashing across his mind's eye. They were suppressed memories, sights and smells and sounds of events Mara had buried deep within her psyche in order to maintain her sanity. Anger flared in his belly, hot and bitter, at what Palpatine had done to her but Luke concentrated on what needed to be done now, not on things he couldn't change. Another step brought him closer to her…
He was eighteen and aboard a civilian starliner. His target was a wealthy nobleman from the Tapani Sector who had been identified as a Rebel sympathizer. The Master had given Luke explicit instructions about how this assignment had to be handled. The entire starliner was to be destroyed and evidence planted linking the Rebel insurgency to the act of terrorism. Luke had tried to find a different way, had wanted to conduct a surgical strike and take out only the nobleman, but the Master had been unyielding. Even as Luke planted the charges, he could feel some part of his soul rebelling against this action. It was wrong. It was evil. Tears trickled down his face as he worked and he knew his Master would punish him for this weakness of compassion.
"It's not a weakness," Luke rasped as he reached the bed. The memories were coming faster now, thundering through the Force like a river suddenly freed from a dam. He could sense the darkness shrouding Mara's mind and abruptly understood the cause: the Sith inhibitor put into place by Palpatine had finally completely disintegrated but as it withered away into nonexistence, it uncovered years of abuse and suppressed memories. Mara's subconscious was being overwhelmed as the extent of Palpatine's evil came to light, forcing her to face the truth about the monster she had once been even if she hadn't fully realized it.
He was twenty and interrogating traitors at the behest of his Master. Though months had passed since the destruction of the Death Star, Luke could still feel his Master's fury over its loss. These traitors were believed to have had ties to the Rebel insurgency responsible and Luke had orders to make them talk. Physical and mental torture had broken the traitors days earlier but still, they would not talk! Luke's hands were slick with blood but he obeyed his Master's demand and continued to work on them. The urge to vomit tickled the back of his throat as the pungent stench of blood and feces filled his nose. He would not feel compassion for these traitors. He would not…
Mara's skin was slick with sweat as he reached out to touch her face and Luke groaned as the deluge of memories intensified. He inhaled deeply, ignoring the wailing of the storm around him as he concentrated on expanding his presence in the Force, hoping it would act like a beacon for her. Though she was unconscious, Mara sensed him at once and Luke could feel her instinctively reach out to him for aid like a drowning woman clutching at a life preserver. Her psychic scream became a vocal one as her mind surfaced from the nightmarish memories, and her eyes snapped open, horror and terror plainly stamped upon her face. She was hyperventilating and looked to be on the verge of throwing up.
"It's okay," he told her in the half-second before the Force storm wavered and died. With the bang of metal slamming into metal, the dining table and the remains of the three chairs struck the floor and the sounds echoed loudly within the enclosed room. Mara jumped at the sound.
"Luke?" she whispered, her voice cracking. Before he could even respond, she was clinging to him, trembling with exhaustion, shock and pain. Luke responded without thinking, wrapping his arms around her and stretching out with the Force to ease her distress. To his abject dismay, Mara began to cry. Waves of despair radiated off her and he closed his own eyes tightly, grasping at his own self-control to keep from joining her. Right now, Mara needed him to be strong.
"It's okay," Luke repeated. He felt eyes upon them and glanced in the direction of the still open doorway. Khabarakh stood there silently, a bared knife in hand, and Luke realized the Noghri had rushed to investigate Mara's scream. Without a word, Khabarakh backed out of the room and sealed the doorway, though Luke could feel him take up a position just outside to guard them from overly curious Kaminoans.
"Why did he do this to me?" Mara moaned, her body shaking with the after-effects of the nightmare. "He made me into a monster!"
"You're not a monster, Mara," Luke said firmly. He gave into his instincts and began stroking her wildly unkempt hair. "You're a victim. Palpatine did this to you because he was the monster." Not for the first time, Luke found himself momentarily wishing the Emperor was still alive so he could pay for what he had done. The thought passed quickly though. Hatred, no matter how justified, was always self-destructive.
And it was justified. Not even taking into account what Palpatine had done to the rest of the galaxy, the crimes he'd committed against Mara were horrifying. Brainwashing her into becoming a loyal assassin was only the tip of the iceberg; the Emperor had then did everything in his power to mold her into a sociopath capable and willing to do whatever was necessary to accomplish her task. Where traditional methods had faltered, Palpatine had turned to more esoteric means and conducted psychic surgery to telepathically suppress her innate morality, alter her perceptions, and try to remake her personality into something more … flexible.
In many ways, he had succeeded but the kernel of Light buried deep within her soul had consistently rebelled against the terrible things she did in his name. Luke could only imagine how much it must have infuriated Palpatine that a part of Mara always seemed to know that what she was doing was wrong no matter his psychic manipulations. His grand experiment had ultimately failed and Luke found himself wondering if perhaps this spark of Light was why she had ultimately been unable to kill him while they were on Myrkr. Had she, even then, been instinctively seeking a way to be healed of this damage? It was a question for a later time and he set it aside so he could focus entirely upon the here and now.
"I've got so much blood on my hands," Mara whispered with horror. "I don't deserve to live." Her eyes were red from exhaustion and tears, and her voice cracked with each word. Luke frowned as he realized how over his head he was at the moment; she needed professional counseling from someone who could actually help her, not a Rimworld pilot-turned-Jedi who was nearly as emotionally scarred as she was.
"You're not to blame, Mara," Luke told her earnestly. "Palpatine is." She glanced up from where she was clinging to him and met his eyes. He swallowed at the pain and confusion he could see in her face; never before had he even imagined seeing her this vulnerable or lost. She looked to be on the brink of crying once again and he despised it.
Luke wanted the old Mara back.
"I hate him," she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. "I hate him so much." Luke nodded as he held onto her more tightly.
"So do I," he admitted. "So do I."
Luke lost track of time as he reclined on Mara's bed, his arms wrapped around her as she struggled to integrate the newfound memories. He wasn't sure when she finally dozed off again but the expression on her face was so peaceful he found himself unable to move out of fear he would wake her from the desperately needed sleep. Despite the reasons behind them, though, he admitted to himself that these were the moments he lived for, when she wasn't overwhelmed by despair or remorse but was instead simply Mara, an innocent woman who utterly trusted him with her life and her soul. Asleep, she looked so much younger than normal and he desperately wished there was something more he could do for her. Though he knew he shouldn't, he leaned forward slightly to kiss her on the forehead. Murmuring something under her breath he couldn't make out, Mara snuggled closer, burying her head in the crook of his neck even as she wrapped her arms around him more tightly.
"You're a damned fool," Luke told himself softly as he carefully eased his body into a more comfortable position on the bed, grimacing slightly when Mara instinctively pressed closer. He tried not to react to the sensation of her curves against his body, tried to avoid noticing the wonderful smell of her hair or the intoxicating feel of her hands against his skin. She would kill him if she knew he was falling in love with her and had been for a long time now, or she'd laugh in his face, or maybe even run away. He simply couldn't let that happen.
Hours crept by with agonizing slowness. As soon as Luke became comfortable enough to slip into a pre-meditative trance or a light doze, Mara would shift in her sleep or make an unexpected sound, and he would snap awake once more. Attempts to climb from the bed failed as she clung to him tightly, evidently deriving enough comfort from his mere presence to sleep soundly for the first time since they arrived on Kamino.
They had been on this miserable planet for ten days now and still had absolutely nothing to show for it. The prime minister – a female by the name of Taun We – had been eager to help and had given them unprecedented access to the records of the city. Unfortunately, this information offered them no new insights into the identity of whoever it was they were after and, in fact, actually overwhelmed them with the sheer volume of data at their fingertips. Frustrated at the impossible task before them, Mara had theorized that the data overload might be intentional, but Luke had sensed no duplicity in the prime minister, only a desperate desire to facilitate their investigation and get them off of Kamino as soon as possible. It didn't take them long to realize that the Noghri were the reason for Taun We's discomfort and a bit of discreet digging revealed the prime minister's fear she was to be removed from office the same way her immediate predecessor was during Palpatine's rule: violently. An attempt to convince her otherwise fell on deaf ears and Mara's suggestion they turn this sort of data search over to Karrde's people was the best idea Luke had heard in weeks. They had retired for the evening, planning on breaking orbit around dawn.
The following morning was unbelievably awkward. As she stirred, Mara shifted closer to him, squirming against his body like a snake. She sighed softly and Luke shivered at the feel of her hot breath upon his bare skin. He swallowed as she nuzzled more closely, her lips finding his neck and inciting a response in his body that Luke simply couldn't prevent.
"Mara, wake up!" he said, stress making his words sharper than he'd intended. She was reacting even before he completed the sentence, springing from the bed so quickly that Luke jumped in surprise. The entangled sheets fouled her footing and Mara fell to the floor with a loud thump, cursing loudly in a language Luke didn't recognize. She froze there on the floor, staring up at the bed with wide eyes while Skywalker looked down at her. He didn't need to touch the Force to see her leap to conclusions – she was barely dressed and he was wearing only sleeping pants – but the way her eyes darted around the room for evidence of more incriminating evidence was almost amusing.
"Why the hell are you in my bed?" she demanded crossly. "And where the kriff are your clothes?" Confusion and embarrassment was rolling off her in waves and Luke could see the exact instant she remembered his arrival as well as the reasons for it. Her eyes narrowed and she grimaced in pain before quickly breaking eye contact with him. Luke rolled his feet off the bed and offered her his hand.
"Don't worry about it," he told her, knowing she was trying to find the words to apologize and thank him at the same time. She shot him a heated look that did nothing to ease his … discomfort before accepting his hand. Luke winced as psychic pain accompanied the physical contact and he instinctively reached out with the Force to sooth the hurt he sensed from her. Mara recoiled.
"Stay out of my head, Skywalker," she almost snarled as she jerked her hand free of his. Luke frowned at her.
"I can feel your pain, Mara," he pointed out. Lack of sleep and frustrated embarrassment over his current predicament caused his words to come out harsher than he wanted them to. "There's a Force technique I can show you…"
"Later," she growled before nearly running toward the refresher, pausing only long enough to grab her clothes and shower kit. Without saying another word, Luke climbed to his feet and exited the room, sighing heavily as he did.
"Thank you," he told Khabarakh as soon as Mara's door closed behind him. The Noghri gave him a tight nod, apparently understanding instantly what Luke was thanking him for, and followed Skywalker into the room they were ostensibly sharing.
"Barkhimkh has informed me that the security holos in this corridor suffered an unexpected and catastrophic failure this morning," Khabarakh said with a toothy smile. "Every record of our presence here has mysteriously vanished."
"You think of everything, don't you?" Luke asked with a chuckle he didn't really feel. His neck hurt badly from the awkward position he'd been in for the last several hours and he was so tired it was hard to think. The psychic residue of Mara's Dark Side-tainted dream still shrouded his own Force presence, leaving in its wake a dull pain that seemed to ache throughout his entire body.
"I do try, Master Jedi," the Noghri responded with a toothy grin. His good humor faded and he glanced at the closed door. "Is she well?" he asked, not even trying to hide his affection for Mara. For reasons Luke didn't fully comprehend, all four of the Noghri treated the ex-Emperor's Hand like a kid sister though Skywalker suspected it was due to their belief she was a kindred spirit. Like them, she had been lied to and manipulated by the Empire.
"It was a tough night," Luke admitted. Khabarakh nodded in understanding; he had seen several such 'tough nights' since joining Mara in her hunt for Luke though the intensity of her nightmares had increased exponentially as Mara became more open to and skilled in the Force. It was as if the demons of her past were being pressed upon her, forcing her to face them in a series of mini-trials. Luke frowned: she was being prepared for something the Force intended her to do, something that required her to get beyond the artificial limitations placed upon her by Palpatine.
"I shall warn the others to step cautiously around her today," Khabarakh said before turning to the door, an almost amused glint in his eyes that seemed strangely out of place. The door slid open before the Noghri could touch the access pad, revealing a tense-looking and fully dressed Mara Jade.
"Ramp up in ten minutes, Skywalker," she snapped harshly. "If you're not aboard," she growled, "I'm leaving you here." Luke gave her a silent nod and then, to his confusion, Mara flushed slightly before quickly storming away, her eyes clouded with some emotion Skywalker couldn't identify. Khabarakh gave Luke a quick look, smirking as he did.
"A tough night indeed," the Noghri murmured, shaking his head in silent amusement. He exited the room, still shaking his head. Luke shrugged at Khabarakh's mood – the Noghri sense of humor rarely made sense to him – as he gathered his clothes and walked into the refresher. He glanced once at the mirror over the sink and took a step past it before jerking his eyes back to the reflection he saw before him. There, on his neck for anyone to see, was a mild bruise that could come from only one source given its specific shape and outline. Suddenly, Khabarakh's poorly hidden amusement and Mara's utter embarrassment made sense. Luke did the only thing he could do in this situation.
He laughed.
It wasn't funny.
Foul-smelling coolant sprayed from the ruptured hoses he had been trying to repair, liberally coating Han with the slippery blue-green liquid. Already, Solo could feel the coolant seeping into his boots as it rapidly filled the bottom of the maintenance access pit and he squeezed his eyes shut to avoid being blinded. The wrench he had been using was suddenly harder to hold onto than it had any right to be and Han fought back the urge to shout a curse, knowing it would only result in the coolant getting into his mouth. There was nothing in the galaxy – not even Leia's horrible attempts at cooking – that tasted worse than filthy engine coolant.
With a metallic clank, the wrench slipped off of the retaining clamp and tore the hose free. Instantly, a flood of even more coolant gushed out, splattering Han's torso and lower body with the slimy muck. He tried to back away, but his boots – already slick with coolant – could find no traction and he stumbled backwards, smacking his head into the other side of the maintenance pit wall.
Above him, safe from the spray of coolant, Chewbacca began laughing.
Han spent several long seconds, holding the back of his head with one hand in a vain attempt to ward off the stabbing pain lancing through his skull while fumbling for the controls of the coolant regulator buried deep within the bowels of the Falcon. He tried to ignore the chortling guffaw of his so-called friend even as the torn hose spat another glop of the slimy semi-solid liquid. This time, the coolant splashed onto his face and he recoiled again.
"You could've helped," he snarled once the coolant pump was deactivated and was no longer squirting the blue-green muck. No part of him seemed to have escaped the sudden shower and he spat out what little of the coolant that had gotten into his mouth. It tastes worse than I remembered.
"Are you kidding?" Chewie asked, still snickering. "That was the most fun I've had in months!"
"I should make you clean this mess up," Han grumbled half-heartedly. He accepted the towel the Wookiee handed down and hurriedly wiped the coolant from his face. Already, his eyes were beginning to sting.
"It's your mess, Slick," his co-pilot chortled. "Besides," Chewie continued, "do you know how hard it is to get coolant out of fur?"
Han didn't bother responding as he glared at the now thoroughly ruined hose, all the while wondering if this was truly worth the hassle. Desperate to get his mind off the war for a few hours, he had decided to tackle some long overdue repairs on the Falcon that he'd been putting off for too long. In his haste to get started though, he'd completely forgotten to turn the coolant pump off before trying to remove a slowly leaking hose and now? Now, the whole damned maintenance pit was flooded.
"Get me outta here," he grumbled, reaching his hand up. Chewbacca hesitated for a moment, clearly wondering if Han was planning on trying to pull him into the coolant or perhaps try to get some of it on him, but Solo just wanted out. He needed a shower – no, make that four or five showers – to wash this stuff off and he wanted to get started immediately. "Come on, ya big coward," he growled and Chewie chuckled briefly before reaching down with one hand and pulling Han up. To Solo's disgust, his left boot came off with a loud plop and remained at the bottom of the pit.
He tracked a lot of the coolant to the crew quarters and the sonic shower inside the cramped refresher, but knew Chewbacca was too amused to care at the moment. If Han was lucky, the Wookiee had already called for a maintenance droid from Independence's resources and had put it to work cleaning up the mess Solo had created.
By the third shower cycle, Han was fairly satisfied most of the coolant was gone. A foul smell still hung around him and, given past experience, would probably take another two or three hours to fade completely. His ruined uniform went straight into the nearest disposal unit and he began dressing in a more comfortable ensemble. Before he'd even finished fastening his pants, his comlink began chirping.
"Solo here," he said into the device, already dreading the inevitable return to duty. At times like this, he really missed being able to just waste time here on the Falcon or not having anyone but Chewie to look out for. A comment Lando had once made sprang to mind and nearly caused him to smile: see what happens you upgrade to the princess deluxe model?
"Admiral," the voice of Captain Adrimetrum emerged from the comlink, clipped and precise like always. "An unidentified freighter just dropped out of lightspeed at the edge of sensor range. I'm scrambling the combat assault patrol to intercept."
"Just one?" Han asked quickly, worry causing him to quickly start pulling on his boots. If this ship was a scout ship for Nat's battle group, it could only mean that she'd figured out the plan he'd spent the last month and a half putting into action. While he wouldn't put it past her, he'd really hoped for some more time; they weren't ready to drop the hammer yet.
"We haven't detected any others, sir," Adrimetrum replied. Stamping his feet to settle the boots, Han grabbed a shirt and started to put it on as he fast-walked out of the crew quarters. He paused briefly at the sound of Chewbacca talking to someone in the cockpit, but figured the Wookiee was conversing with maintenance and quickly put it out of his mind so he could focus on his job.
"Transponder identified, Admiral," Captain Adrimetrum said as Han rounded the main corridor of the Falcon and approached the boarding ramp. "It's the Scarlet Maenad," the captain continued. "Not one of ours."
"All right," Han said. He hated making this sort of snap decision – the crew of this Scarlet Maenad could just be in the wrong place at the wrong time – but too many lives were depending on him to let them get away unscathed. "Tell the CAP he has-"
"Han!" Chewbacca's bellow caused Solo to jump in surprise and derailed his train of thought. Reflexively, his finger slipped off the transmit button of the comlink and his gun hand went for a blaster not currently at his side. The Wookiee appeared a moment later, rapidly gesturing toward the cockpit. "It's Luke!" he said quickly. "This freighter! It's Luke!"
"Stand down," Solo ordered into the comlink without hesitation. "Have the CAP escort the Maenad to the Indy."
"Sir?" Adrimetrum's surprise was obvious, even through the comlink's distorting effects.
"Do it, Captain!" Han snapped.
Twenty minutes later, the so-called Scarlet Maenad set down inside the cavernous landing bay. Its landing was remarkably graceful, immediately prompting Han to suspect that Luke was at the controls; the cockpit viewports were opaque, however, concealing the identity of the pilot and preventing him from confirming that theory. As the YT-2400 settled, Solo let his eyes roam over the freighter's lines, admiring the gentle curves while instinctively comparing it to his beloved Falcon. She was a thing of beauty, the Maenad, but simply didn't have the character of his own ship. Give her a couple of years, Han mused, a couple of impact craters on her flawless outer hull and she might be more attractive. His bittersweet amusement faded as he took in the carbon scoring decorating the freighter's outer hull; it could only have come from weapons fire and, to his discerning eye, looked quite recent.
The boarding ramp of the 2400 lowered with a muted hiss and a pair of hooded figures – Noghri, by the look of them – descended like bodyguards. Chewie grunted in recognition and began striding forward instantly. After signaling the dismissal of the marines who Adrimetrum had sent to await the Maenad, Han followed.
"Please go aboard, Admiral Solo," Barkhimkh said by way of greeting. He added something else in his native tongue, something that immediately caused Chewie to chortle. Shaking his head in wonder at the fact his co-pilot already knew the Noghri tongue, Han obeyed.
The interior of the Maenad was darker than he expected, which indicated to him that the crew was operating on a different day-night schedule than Coruscant-standard. Luke was waiting for him, for once not wearing Jedi robes. Instead, his clothes bore a striking similarity to what Han was wearing, right down to the blaster strapped to Skywalker's side. Far more alarming, though, was the almost elbow-length padded glove on Skywalker's right hand.
Standing in the corridor leading to the cockpit with her arms crossed, Mara Jade stared at Han with a frown on her face. There was something different about her, something about the way she stood. He couldn't quite explain it, but it almost seemed like she seemed more grounded and less apt to random acts of homicide. Solo mentally checked it off as Luke having been a good influence on her over the last few months.
"Is there a reason you smell like a coolant tank?" the redhead asked without preamble, wrinkling her nose in disgust as she did. Behind him, Chewbacca snickered and Han's expression darkened.
"It's a new cologne I'm trying," he replied crossly. "My turn. Is there a reason for this cloak and vibroblade routine?"
"I'm afraid there is," Luke said heavily. He had dark circles under his eyes. "I can't go into that right now though," he continued, fidgeting with the glove in what seemed to be an unconscious gesture. "What I need-"
"What you need," Solo interrupted, "is to tell me what the hell is goin' on. You disappear for six months, get sighted on a dozen different worlds, and then show up out of nowhere?" Han glowered. "Do you have any idea how worried Leia has been?"
"Leia is the reason I dropped out of sight," Skywalker replied darkly. He glanced at Jade and she half-shrugged. "Someone has been cloning dead Jedi and sending them after me," Luke said.
"Jedi clones?" Han asked in surprise. "Like C'baoth?"
"None of them are anywhere near that level of skill yet," Luke admitted, still fidgeting with his gloved hand.
"Then I don't see the problem," Solo said. "The Rogues could really use you right now, kid, especially since-"
"Don't see the problem?" Luke repeated tightly, the intensity of his words cutting Han off in mid-sentence. Skywalker wore an expression of incredulity that quickly transformed to one of carefully controlled anger. "Someone is using dead Jedi to create an army and you don't see the problem?" He took a step closer to Han. "You've seen what one Jedi can do," he said pointedly. "Now imagine a squadron of them. Or a wing."
"Or a fleet," Jade added ominously.
"Right now," Luke said, "this is the most important I could be doing."
"Tell that to Wedge," Han argued. "Or Tycho. Or Corran." Skywalker grimaced and glanced away, his thoughts obviously turning to his missing or injured friends. To Solo's surprise, Jade took a half-step closer to Luke, as if to provide him moral support. Her emerald eyes flashed as she glowered at Han.
"The clones are concentrating on him right now," she said fiercely. "What happens when they start going after others? Like your wife?" Han recoiled but the ex-assassin pressed her advantage. "Or your children?"
"Point taken," Solo conceded softly as he met the redhead's eyes. "Never though I'd see the day you signed up for one of Luke's…" He trailed off, unable to find the appropriate words.
"Damned fool idealistic crusades?" Skywalker offered, his expression bleak as he fidgeted with the glove once again. Han recognized the look – it was the one Luke always wore when he was thinking about his father or Kenobi. He supposed the phrase was important to Luke for some reason, though Solo couldn't recall having heard it before.
"Something like that," Solo said with a frown. "You still could have told us what you were doing," he grumbled. "You could have told me."
"Everyone I come into contact with is put into danger by these clones, Han." Luke frowned as he glanced briefly in Jade's direction. "Besides," he continued with a slight smirk, "didn't you tell me once it was easier to ask forgiveness than permission?" Solo had to smile at the comment; he couldn't remember if he'd actually told Luke that but it certainly sounded like something he'd say.
"By your presence here," Han ventured, "can I guess that something's changed?"
"Calrissian hasn't made contact," Jade interjected sharply. "The last time he spoke with Karrde was ten days ago," she said tersely. "And-"
"Wait a damned minute," Solo interrupted quickly. He speared Luke with a hot look and tried to keep the hurt out of his voice when he spoke again. "You brought Lando into this but couldn't be bothered to contact me?"
"Not exactly," Skywalker replied. "Lando sort of invited himself." Luke gestured toward Jade. "After we crashed his party on Socorro."
"And broke into his office," Jade added, a wry smirk on her face.
"That too," Luke agreed with a similar smile. "We just need you to look over some system names since you have more history with Lando than either of us." Skywalker sighed heavily. "It might be nothing," he continued, "but I'm hoping it'll give us an idea where to start looking."
"And Skywalker also needs to have his hand looked at," Jade said smoothly. "The Lusankya has a fully functional medbay, right?" Han tried not to wince when she used the Imperial name for the Indy and barely stopped himself from making an old spacer's warding gesture against bad luck.
"What did you do to it this time?" Chewbacca asked, amusement tingeing his question.
"Long story," Skywalker said. "Can we stick to the Lando situation?" he asked.
"No," Jade replied flatly. "Go get your hand fixed and I'll take care of the rest."
"You can say hi to the Rogues," Han said quickly, eager to ask Jade some questions without Skywalker present. An unexpectedly sad look flickered across Luke's face, but was gone almost before it appeared.
"Any more news about Wedge?" he asked softly.
"Nothing concrete," Solo admitted. "We know the Imps captured him, tried him, and sentenced him to life in prison," he said darkly. "But as of now, we don't know where they're holding him."
"You can't help him, Luke," Jade said softly, her voice unexpectedly soft and comforting. Han tried not to gape in surprise. "Not right now."
"I know," Skywalker murmured.
"Go get your hand looked at, kid," Han said gruffly, suddenly uncomfortable but not quite able to figure out why. "We'll talk later." Luke gave Jade another look and then nodded. Donning a hooded cloak, Skywalker exited the freighter.
"Khabarakh," Jade called even before Luke was out of visual range. A whisper of movement behind him nearly caused Han to jump as the Noghri in question seemed to materialize out of nowhere. "Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid," the redhead ordered.
"It shall be as you command, Jedi Jade," Khabarakh hissed. He made a subtle gesture that Han nearly missed and another Noghri – Olmahk, if Solo wasn't mistaken – emerged from an equally discreet hiding position. The second Noghri nodded and followed Khabarakh down the ramp; Han couldn't help but to notice, however, that the other two remained behind, as if to protect Jade.
"I think you owe me an explanation," Solo said as soon as the bodyguard team departed. Jade gave him a withering look in response.
"I don't owe you anything," she replied. Something flashed in her eyes, causing Han to wonder about her choice of words. Did she, as Chewbacca had once theorized, believe she owed Luke the equivalent of a Life Debt? It would certainly explain some things.
"Is that a fact?" Solo glowered at her. "You promised to find Luke and bring him back," he said, "not join up with him."
"I promised," Jade responded, her voice low and hard, "to find him. That's it." Her lip curled in a cruel-looking sneer. "Well," she said coldly, "I found him."
"That wasn't part of our deal!"
"Get over it," she said shortly, turning toward the holographic gaming table.
"Listen, sister," Han growled, reaching for her arm with the intent of turning her back to face him. It was as far as he got.
A half-second later, his face slammed into the holo-table and he yelped in startled surprise as Jade finished the disabling move by twisting his arm behind his back. Excruciating pain shot through his shoulder as he tried to get free, but she only applied more pressure which forced him into an even more awkward position. The barrel of a holdout blaster suddenly jammed into his ear and Han froze.
"It's not a good idea," Jade said softly, "to try that sort of thing on a trained assassin."
"Let him go," Chewbacca rumbled a moment later. Han could hear movement and the blaster suddenly left his ear. He started to make another escape attempt, but Jade shifted her stance slightly and another pulse of agony gave Solo cause to rethink trying to get free.
"Only if you promise to keep him in line," Jade replied coolly. Chewbacca abruptly laughed.
"I've been trying to do that for twenty years," the Wookiee pointed out with another chuckle.
"Try harder," the ex-assassin said. She let go of Han's arm and backed away from him. He gave her a fierce glare as he rapidly backpedaled away from her and the table.
"You nearly broke my damned arm!" he growled while cradling the limb in question. Jade snorted.
"If I wanted to break your arm," she said flatly, "it would be broken." She flipped open a concealed panel on the holo-table and inserted a datachip. Instantly, the imager came to life, projecting a three-dimensional star map above the table. Several stars began flashing at once.
"Oh, pretty," Chewie murmured as he brushed by Han to examine the table. "I want one," the Wookiee said while kneeling before the access panel. Jade cleared her throat and Chewie gave her a sheepish look as he took a step back.
"These are the seven systems we've narrowed down," the ex-assassin stated. She reached into the holo and touched one of the flashing stars; instantly, a system readout appeared.
"Now I really want one," Chewbacca rumbled.
"That's the Erysthes system," Han said, still favoring his aching arm. He inched closer to the holo-table but gave Jade as wide a berth as possible. "Lando's in the Corporate Sector?"
"Yes," the redhead said simply. She gestured at the table. "Let me know if anything jumps out at you," she instructed. "I'll be in the cockpit."
"You weren't much help," Han muttered to his old friend once she disappeared down the corridor. Chewbacca shrugged even as he continued his examination of Jade's table.
"A Life Debt doesn't mean I have to hold your hand when you do dumb things, Slick," the Wookiee said. "And trying to grab Jade's arm," he continued, "was really dumb." He pointed to the table. "Can we get one of these for the Falcon?"
Han groaned.
Leia groaned.
As she rose from her desk, a sharp pain stabbed through her lower back, sending shards of discomfort through her legs. She froze in place, legs bent and hands bracing herself upon the desk, and grit her teeth as she waited for the pain to subside. It was her own fault for letting her physical therapy routine lapse as her senatorial workload continued to mount, and she bit back a foul curse while slowly straightening her posture. Twinges of pain shot down her spine but gradually faded to something manageable.
"Are you well, Lady Solo?" Cakhmaim asked quickly from where he lounged near the doorway. With Winter off-world at the moment to visit with her wounded fiancée, the Noghri had become Leia's de facto personal assistant, displaying an ability to navigate senatorial red tape that was frighteningly efficient. Though he remained a fierce warrior, Cakhmaim had the heart of a bureaucrat.
"As well as I can be," Leia answered. She caught the Noghri's subtle frown and sighed softly. "Cancel my appointments for the rest of the day," she said as she began gathering her belongings. "And have Threepio rearrange my morning schedule," she added. "I need an extra hour every day."
"Shall I also contact Doctor Cilghal?" Cakhmaim asked knowingly. For the last three days, he'd pestered her discreetly about resuming her pool exercises and Leia suspected he'd been in contact with the Mon Calamari.
"Tomorrow," Leia decided. She inhaled deeply, arching her back until she heard a satisfying pop. Another spasm of pain accompanied the sound and Leia grimaced as a dull ache seemed to seep into the bones of her legs. She drew the Force around her to ease her pain; it was only partially successful and she mentally cursed herself for putting off Luke's lessons. Now would be a fantastic time to know how to put herself into a healing trance. "Tonight however," she added with a sour smile, "I plan to relax with the twins." Had her back not hurt so much, she would have laughed at the disbelieving expression that flashed across Cakhmaim's face.
The moment she stepped out of her office and into the Great Rotunda, Leia felt a sense of dread and excitement gather within her stomach. She paused for a heartbeat and quickly glanced around the corridor in an attempt to locate the source of her sudden nervousness. At her side, Cakhmaim seemed to pick up on her sudden shift in mood.
"Lady Solo?" he asked softly, one hand already curling around the hilt of the vibroblade he carried at his waist.
"Something important is going to happen," Leia murmured. The Force flooded into her, washing away the lingering pain in her back, and she took a deep breath to calm herself.
Out of the corner of her eye, Leia saw the two Senatorial Guardsmen stationed outside her office straighten fractionally and turned to exchange friendly greetings with them. In the last month, she had continued to implement her subtle recruitment drive by making a concentrated effort to speak with the guardsmen whenever possible. She now knew nearly all of them by name, excepting those rare few who were even more anti-social than Quin, and had discovered most of them were highly-trained loners desperate for a purpose.
"Good evening, gentlemen," she said with forced levity. The younger of the two – a relatively new recruit named Warden Hsieh – returned her smile, much to the obvious disapproval of the other man. Leia blinked away her flicker of surprise at the identity of the senior guardsman and rapidly consulted her mental calendar. Was it already Lieutenant Quin's turn to stand watch over her office? She nearly sighed the moment she realized how distracted she'd become.
"Lieutenant Quin," Leia stated regally, drawing upon her upbringing as a royal princess of Alderaan, "how good to see you again." The lieutenant responded with a tight nod that was almost a head bow. Through the open slits in his helmet, Leia could see his lips tighten in discomfort and, once again, nearly laughed at the incongruity of a man with his training being so uncomfortable in her presence. She opened her mouth to speak.
And everything changed.
It was unlike anything Leia had ever experienced before. Without warning, her every sense came alive. Colors were suddenly sharper than they had ever been before. The ambient sounds of the Senate building suddenly exploded within her ears, instantly transforming from a low, muted buzz into an incomprehensible roar of noise that was physically painful. The universe crystallized around her, showing her a billion different possibilities in the span of a picosecond. Leia's breath caught as she realized every one of those possibilities revolved around Lieutenant Quin. Somehow, someway, the future of the Republic – perhaps even the galaxy – depended on this man. Leia couldn't begin to comprehend how she knew this, only that she did.
The moment passed.
"Your Highness?" Lieutenant Quin asked, his eyes narrowed, and Leia realized she had been staring at him for longer than was appropriate. She glanced away, opened her mouth to make a comment explaining her sudden loss of decorum – though she had no idea what she was going to say – when an unidentified feeling of being watched caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand up. She glanced in the direction of Viqi Shesh's office.
A half second later, the office exploded in flame.
Heavily armored figures poured out of the breach almost instantly, blaster rifles at the ready. Alarms began howling even as Leia's danger sense flared yet again. She reacted without thought, thrusting her arm toward Lieutenant Quin and Guardsman Hsieh and pulling. With barely time to squawk in surprise, the two men jerked forward and hit the ground beside her a mere second before another eruption of fire and debris engulfed her office. Chunks of ferrocrete exploded toward her but ricocheted off the invisible barrier she'd instinctively thrown up. She staggered back a step as the debris hammered into her Force shield but – to her surprise – it held.
Cakhmaim was already springing toward the burning office, his deadly-looking vibroblade bared and crooning its song of violence, as a quartet of armored figures emerged. Even before the Noghri reached them, Lieutenant Quin was on his feet and surging toward the attackers as well, his blaster rifle abandoned in favor of a long blade of his own. Already, the Senate's anti-blaster measures had activated and a steady pulse of energy rendered the weapons inert.
Ears ringing, Leia reached for her lightsaber and ignited it with a quick flourish. Its cerulean blade sprang into existence with the familiar snap-hiss and she brought the humming blade up into a defensive posture. The Force whispered to her softly and she reacted without thought, easily parrying a pair of poorly aimed blaster shots directed against her from the attackers. Her blood ran cold at the realization the anti-blaster measures had failed.
Two more offices suddenly exploded and Leia gave the overall situation a quick glance, noting instantly that there were more Guardsmen present than she expected there to be. At least four senators were down, including Ackbar, though she couldn't tell if they were dead or just unconscious. Another team of the armored figures were racing toward her, their blasters barking. Shouting a curse, Leia made a wide sweeping gesture with her left hand and pushed. Desperation and fear gave her strength and the Force pulse sent the five figures tumbling. They didn't go far, but it was enough of a delay to give the Guardsmen – and Noghri, she noted – pouring into the engagement zone an opportunity to pounce.
"Lady Solo!" Cakhmaim abruptly shouted. He had taken up a position to her left, his vibroblade sheathed and a blaster rifle in hand. "You must get to safety!"
"No!" Quin retorted sharply. He too had a blaster in hand and Leia had no doubt it had come from the quartet that had attacked through her office. "We need her here!" He pumped a pair of rapid shots into one of the armored figures and sent the man spinning, smoking holes in his protective helmet.
Leia didn't bother responding to either of them as she concentrated on remembering her brother's lessons. Her heart hammered loudly in her chest as she once again sent a Force pulse into a cluster of the attacking figures. Two of them were sent flying backwards into a wall as the third re-oriented his weapon and fired twice. Her saber dipped instinctively and caught one of the blaster bolts upon the blue-white blade, but the second grazed her upper bicep with searing fire. She cried out reflexively in the same moment Guardsman Hsieh dropped the attacker with a well-placed shot. Ignoring the pain in her arm, she glanced around for another target.
But there were none.
Instead, the Great Rotunda was crawling with Guardsmen and fierce-looking Noghri. All of the attackers were down – slain or simply subdued – and medical technicians were streaming toward the wounded. Suddenly cognizant of the eyes upon her, Leia shut down her lightsaber and glanced in Quin's direction.
He was kneeling before one of the attackers Leia had sent sprawling and had already tore open the man's helmet. To her shock, Quin was reaching into the human's mouth with his vibroblade, almost as if he meant to mutilate the semi-conscious man's face. She took a quick step toward the lieutenant in very moment he activated his weapon.
The attacker shrieked.
Fury washed over her and Leia raised her deactivated saber to strike the kneeling lieutenant, but Cakhmaim suddenly caught her wrist. He gave her a sharp shake of his head.
"Hold," the Noghri cautioned, his eyes narrowed speculatively on the kneeling form of the Guardsman. A heartbeat later, Quin rose, his bloody hands holding something small. He offered it to her.
"Suicide tooth," he identified. "I mean to discover who is behind this," he said darkly while gesturing for Guardsman Hsieh to secure their prisoner.
"You expected this," Leia said. She gave the Rotunda another quick glance.
"Not this exactly, Your Highness," Quin responded. Leia pinned him with her eyes and he exhaled slowly. "We've had credible information about an impending strike for days now," he admitted. "Unfortunately," he continued, "there's been a dearth of actual evidence." He frowned as he looked at Cakhmaim. "I would like to know how you were aware of the threat," Quin stated.
"By observing your people," the Noghri replied sharply.
"Triple the guards on the senator's home," Quin ordered tersely. "They may be a target."
"My children?" Leia gasped, suddenly horrified.
"We have already done so," Cakhmaim said at the same time. He gave the semi-conscious prisoner being escorted away a dark look. "He will not talk," he mused and, from the set of Lieutenant Quin's shoulders, Leia could tell the Guardsman thought the same thing.
"He'll talk to me," she declared harshly. She began striding toward the prisoner, her expression resolute. Cakhmaim fell into step beside her and she sensed a half dozen other Noghri surround them.
"Your Highness," Lieutenant Quin said as he walked alongside her, "I'm not sure this is a good idea." He gestured to a trio of Guardsmen and, without question, they joined her impromptu party.
"I can make him talk," Leia stated grimly, her tone brooking no dissent. Anger warred with fear as she realized how exposed her family was at the moment. With Han and Chewie off at war and Luke gallivanting around the galaxy with his own personal assassin, she had only herself and the Noghri to protect Jaina and Jacen. She would not let these terrorists hurt her children.
She swept into the interrogation room moments later flanked by both Cakhmaim and Quin. The prisoner was secured in a restraining chair, his eyes glittering with poorly suppressed pain. Blood was trickling from his mouth, reminding Leia that Quin had forcibly extracted a tooth from this man only minutes earlier. She carefully took the seat across from the prisoner and steepled her fingers on the table between them as her two guards took up defensive positions at her side.
"You know who I am," Leia said simply. It was not a question. "But I don't know who you are." He grunted in response. "This will go a lot more smoothly for you," she remarked, "if you cooperate."
"Cooperate?" he repeated, giving her a bloody smile as he spoke. "Not likely."
"Colonies accent," Quin rumbled. "With a touch of Mid-Rim enunciation." The Guardsman crossed his arms. "He's post-Thrawn Imperial."
"And you're a traitor," the prisoner almost snarled. He returned his full attention to Leia and she shivered at the lack of human emotion she saw in his eyes. "Do your worst," he commanded. "I'll tell you nothing."
"Tell us about your plan," Leia ordered, stretching out with her haphazard knowledge of the Force and urging the man to obey. "Tell us now!"
He recoiled as if struck before grimacing and straightening quickly. His eyes narrowed and Leia could feel the fury rolling off of him in waves. Once more, she fumbled toward the Force.
"My plan," the man growled, "involves you and yours being dead." He abruptly laughed, a sinister and abrasive sound. "Nothing you can do will stop it," he said with a malevolent smile on his face. "They'll be dead soon. They'll all be dead."
"They?" Leia repeated softly, fighting back the fear bubbling up within her stomach. She gripped the armrests of her chair tightly when he laughed again.
"Your children," the prisoner said simply.
Fury thundered through her and Leia closed her eyes to keep from leaping across the table. The man's laughter echoed in her ears and she could hear both of her guards softly urging her to leave, but none of that mattered as she stretched out with her mind to caress the Force signatures of her children. Jacen was asleep at the moment, but Jaina eagerly reciprocated the mindtouch. Leia let her daughter's unconditional love for her swirl through the Force before acknowledging that she would do anything for her children.
Anything.
She opened her eyes.
"Tell me now," Leia Organa-Solo ordered, the Force swelling around and through her. Instinct drove her – she didn't know exactly what she was doing, only that it was the only way she would get her the information she desperately needed in time. The prisoner convulsed instinctively as she slammed a thoughtprobe into his mind and began directly stimulating the truth centers of his brain. He would be unable to lie.
Words began tumbling out of his mouth and Leia felt her stomach twist at the scope of the coming strike. A combination of traditional explosives and biological attacks, it would be catastrophic, with the loss of life in the hundreds of thousands if not the millions. No one on Coruscant would be safe from the madness and she maintained her durasteel grip on his mind as she sought the means to undo the coming strike.
Even as he spoke, she could sense something greater at work, something darker hovering on the very edge of her perception of this man. She followed that hint, burrowing the thoughtprobe deeper into the man's psyche as she sought the identity of the hidden puppet master. Vaguely, Leia became aware that he was twitching nonstop now and was weeping blood, but she delved deeper, growing closer to the mastermind with each second…
The impact of Lieutenant Quin's hand across her face brought Leia back to the present and she recoiled away from him, suddenly aware that Cakhmaim was shouting at her. Spots danced before her eyes as she shook her head and panic surged as she realized that she could barely move. A sense of lethargy seemed to be drowning her but, with the sharp pain from the slap, she began clawing her way back to full consciousness.
"I'm all right," Leia said as she sagged in her chair. Her body felt heavier than even when she had been carrying the twins and her back felt like it was on fire. "I'm all right," she repeated. She opened her mouth to ask what happened when her eyes fell on the prisoner.
He was dead.
Slumped back in his restraint chair, he stared sightlessly at her. Blood was still dripping from his eyes and ears and nose, and an expression of absolute horror was stamped on his face. Leia felt a wave of nausea surge through her and she barely had time to get out of her chair before she vomited.
By the time she'd recovered, Quin had vanished from the room though she could hear him issuing orders to his Guardsmen outside. With her body unwilling to fully cooperate, Leia forced herself to her feet, aware of Cakhmaim's intent study of her. She could not tear her eyes from the corpse in the restraint chair. I did that, she wailed to herself. I murdered that man.
"Lady Solo?" Cakhmaim ventured a moment later. Leia glanced at him and swallowed. There was no recrimination on the Noghri's face, no accusation or surprise, only concern.
"Your Highness," Quin said before she could respond as he re-entered the interrogation cell. He had a large data-slate with him with a broad overview of Coruscant upon it. "I marked down the strike points he confessed to," the Guardsman declared as he placed the slate upon the table, "but would like you to check my positioning."
"Of course, Lieutenant," Leia replied. She pulled her lightsaber from her belt and offered it to him. "I will cooperate fully," she continued, "and am surrendering to your custody."
"Custody?" Quin's voice revealed his surprise. "What are you talking about?"
"I killed this man," Leia said tightly. "A prisoner already in custody," she added. "By Republic law, you are required to arrest me immediately."
"With respect, Your Highness," Quin replied, "there are more important things to worry about right now." He gave the corpse a contemptuous look. "This man," he said, disgust dripping off his words, "was Hutt slime willing to kill hundreds of thousands of people for whatever mad goal he followed." The Guardsman's expression was unyielding. "As far as I'm concerned," he added callously, "he got what he deserved."
"I'm a murderer," Leia growled but the Guardsman cut her off.
"Right now," he pointed out, "I need your help preventing this attack from being carried out."
"The lieutenant speaks truth," Cakhmaim said softly. "Desperate times call for desperate measures."
"Too many people have already died, Your Highness," Quin added. "And I need your help." He pointed to the data-slate and the map. "We'll start here," he decided and Leia nodded grimly before following him out of the interrogation room.
The rest of the day passed in a blur and Leia later could not recall the exact sequence of events that followed. Five hours passed in the blink of an eye and she found herself standing over the beds of her children, eyes moist as she realized how close she had come to losing them today. Three separate weapons had been neutralized within walking distance of her apartments – two conventional explosives and one horrific bio-weapon – and Leia shivered at the mental image of the twins exposed to the latter. Keyed to the human genetic code, it would have peeled the skin off their bodies in under an hour. That someone would use such a weapon against anyone was nearly unbelievable and the fact they'd recovered over a dozen of them across the planet caused her to wonder if the galaxy would ever be truly safe.
Satisfied they were safe, she retreated to her shower, pausing only long enough to make sure Threepio knew she wasn't to be disturbed. Under the scalding water, Leia collapsed to her knees and began to tremble as the accumulated stress and terror of the day simply overwhelmed her. She squeezed her eyes shut as the tears began to fall, but made no effort to stop them.
When she emerged from the shower an eternity later, Leia found herself staring at the stranger in the mirror for a long time as she tried to come to grips with what she'd done. Lieutenant Quin had promised her that he would follow the letter of the law and treat her like anyone else, but she knew better. He was Alderaanian, after all, and she was the last of the Organas. She sighed bitterly.
"I cannot resign," Leia told the stranger in the mirror. "Not while Fey'lya is steering the Republic towards disaster." The stranger did not reply so Leia pressed on, aware that she was justifying her actions but unsure how to stop. "My children need me," she whispered. Once again, the stranger offered no condemnation and Leia swallowed. "The man was a terrorist and a murderer," she said. "He deserved to die for what he had done and what he was going to do." After a moment of consideration, she nodded. "He deserved to die," she repeated.
And as she turned away, Leia Organa-Solo, daughter of Anakin Skywalker who became Darth Vader, never noticed the flicker of yellow that momentarily tainted the color of her normally brown eyes.
wbsaw: According to IMDB, Hamill is 5' 9" (or 1.75 m). Thus, my version of Mara is 1.76m tall (or just over 5'9", but not 5'10"). As to not hiding her feelings, that's not entirely true; she's really confused and (dare I say it?) broken at the moment (emotionally, that is, thanks to Lord Sidious). Hopefully, this chapter gives you a hint of the sort of mental abuse she suffered at his hands. Lando is just very observant. In regards to Leia, this chapter probably gives you a really good idea where I'm going with her... (cue maniacal laughter)
Admiral: Ask and ye shall receive. There's a lot more Solo coming up in Tyranny Reborn. In response to the question regarding longer chapters, yeah it is something I'm consciously attempting. At some point, I'd like to write an actual novel and get paid for it, so I thought it would be a good idea to stretch myself with this and endeavor to push my limitations. In the event I regain the Trek Muse and return to my other stuff, I can pretty much guarantee that the chapters in those works will increase in size as well.
PhantomKnight88: I thought the whole Lando/Mara thing in KJA's lame Jedi Academy series to be so utterly contrived and OOC for the two of them (especially the nonsense about Lando winning the Falcon and then giving it back to Han actually 'impressing' Mara) that I simply had to take the opposite approach. As I stated in chapter 6, Mara kinda scares Calrissian (though he'd never admit it to her) and he's sharp enough to notice that Luke is attracted to her. If this was Han instead of Luke, Lando might actually consider making a play for the woman in question because he clearly has no problems flirting with Han's significant other; with Luke, though, he's more hesitant mostly out of respect for Skywalker's earnestness (and possibly some residual intimidation of the abilities of a Jedi since he's just old enough to remember the Clone Wars).
framework4: 'Bent' is a really good way to describe a lot of the profic ... especially the modern tripe they put out... (cough...Legacy of the Force...cough...The Clone Wars...cough...)
Deja: I love me some space battles, so that may be why I'm fairly proficient in writing them. As to politics, well, I've been interested in politics for years (not so much these days with both prominent parties in the US basically having turned into the same neo-socialist organizations), so I've got a pretty good idea how ... corrupt the whole thing is. Though that might just be my lack of faith in humanity talking...
Elemarth: The scene transitions are sometimes the hardest thing to write or come up with, believe it or not.