CHAPTER 9

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Mara's fingers flew over the keyboard, selecting keystrokes to call up the patient records from the Lusankya prison. Page after page of data illuminated on Ysanne Isard's personal computer screen, but Mara still could not find the information she sought. Frustrated, she pushed back an errant strand of red hair and leaned back in the plush office chair. None of her bypass codes were working and she hadn't been able to hack herself into the records system. She was running out of time, but she refused to leave until she found what she wanted.

Upon arriving at Coruscant, she'd flown her fighter directly from the Chimaera to the Lusankya, located kilometers away from the Imperial Palace and buried deep beneath the planet's surface. As requested, Pellaeon had not broadcasted their presence in orbit and she'd entered the atmosphere without first contacting the Emperor. It was a huge breach of etiquette on her part, but she was long past caring. The Lusankya's guards hadn't questioned Lady Jade when she arrived at the prison and she'd gained entrance to the director's office without so much as a second glance.

Gritting her teeth, Mara tried another tactic on the computer system. But she quickly stopped typing, having sensed Isard approaching the office at a fast rate. Obviously she'd been tipped off to Mara's presence. Mara first considered trying to hide or leave the office without being seen, but she pushed aside those thoughts. It was time to use her position as Lady Jade to her advantage.

So she leaned back in the chair and waited for Isard's arrival.

The older woman practically stormed into the office, eyes narrowing as she took in Mara sitting in her chair. She was clad in her traditional red Imperial uniform, hair pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. She even looked crazy, Mara mused as she took a moment to regard the intelligence director. With mismatched eyes and white streaks in her hair, Isard resembled an evil witch from a children's story.

When Mara was a child she had looked up to Isard, as one of the only women of power in the Palace. But it didn't take long for Mara to realize that Isard was insane and looked out for only one person—herself. To save her reputation, she'd even gone so far as to accuse her own father of treason, leading to his execution.

No; Isard was not the type of woman Mara aspired to be like. Not anymore.

Isard's eyes locked onto Mara's. "I was informed that I had a visitor in my office. Welcome, Lady Jade. I would suggest that you make yourself more comfortable, but I see you've already done so."

Mara rolled her eyes, in no mood for false pleasantries. "I'm actually glad you're here, Madam Director. You can help me find the files I've been looking for."

The door shut behind Isard. She moved toward the desk, covering a smirk. "I was wondering when you'd finally come around to search for your records. I'm sorry to inform you that you won't find anything there." She nodded her head toward the computer terminal. "The Emperor wouldn't want such prized information to be available so freely."

Mara smiled tightly. "Of course not." She leaned forward, clasping her hands on the desk. "Tell me about Zurel Darillian."

Isard was not fazed by Mara's demand. "What about him?"

"Don't act innocent with me. We both know exactly what I'm talking about."

Isard let out a heavy sigh and took a seat on one of the room's plush chairs. "I know that he was promoted to captain, right before his untimely death." She regarded Mara plainly. "It's funny, it was as if he dropped dead by some unknown…force."

"You might say that," Mara replied softly. "He told me that, a little over two and a half years ago, he'd been passing along information to you, that led to a confrontation with Rogue Squadron. What were his orders?"

"His orders?" Isard's hand moved to the blaster on her belt, but she was wise enough not to try something foolish. "I thought you would have figured this out on your own. You see, his orders were to keep watch over you."

"Watch me?" Mara could feel her brow furrow as she tried to process this new information. "Why would he have to watch me?"

"Because Palpatine ordered it."

"Palpatine?" Mara's throat suddenly turned very dry. That didn't make any sense. Why would Palpatine order someone to watch over her? It certainly hadn't been for protection.

She had tried so hard to forget that time in her life, but now it was so clear in her mind. Admitting to Palpatine her misgivings about Alderaan. Being ordered to go undercover in the fleet. Realizing that the Empire she'd served was not magnanimous and benevolent after all. Staying with the Alliance, and giving herself the first true chance at happiness in her life.

"It was a set-up," Mara whispered.

"You can't possibly be surprised." Isard was practically gloating. "He could sense your shifting allegiance. And you confirmed his suspicions afterwards, did you not?"

"I…" Mara tried to work her throat but she found that she couldn't speak. She'd always assumed that Vader had gotten his information from Darillian, as a way to find Skywalker. But instead it had been Palpatine, wanting to recapture her and using Vader's desire for Skywalker as a means of doing so. Isard was right; she really shouldn't be surprised. It was alwaysPalpatine.

And why did it hurt so damn bad? She didn't care about Palpatine anymore. She knew that her entire life as the Emperor's Hand had been a sham. She knew that her life as Lady Jade was merely a prison designed to keep her in the Empire. And yet, the knowledge that Palpatine had mistrusted her even then, that he had ordered a mere TIE fighter pilot to keep watch over her…

She felt like she was going to be sick, and that made her feel even worse.

Isard sighed. "It's not easy, is it? To learn that you aren't so special after all?"

Mara's hand clenched into a fist. Slowly, she rose from the chair, walking around the desk to stare down at Isard. The other woman did not falter as Mara stared deep into her eyes. "I want to know what you did to me."

Isard's eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Do you really?"

Mara nodded, completely sure. "I want to know."

Isard nodded in return. She stood, and after a few moments produced a datachip from a hidden cabinet in the office wall. She slid the chip inside of a datapad, which she then placed in Mara's hands, grinning the entire time.

Mara hesitated, afraid of what she'd see on the datapad, but curiosity got the best of her and she looked down. It was her file from her time on the Lusankya.

It was blank.

Mara blinked, staring at the datapad for long seconds, unable to comprehend what she was seeing. Her hand came to rest on Isard's desk, or else she would have collapsed right to the floor. "What is this?" she bit out.

Seeing her confusion, Isard gave another insipid smile. "It is your file, Lady Jade."

"It's blank!"

"Exactly. That was another order from the Emperor, you see. He didn't want my brainwashing techniques to interfere with your Force abilities and other skills."

"You mean...I wasn't brainwashed?"

Isard shrugged, disinterested. "Draw your own conclusions, Lady Jade. You're smart enough."

Mara's mind reeled. Thatwas why she'd been able to disobey Palpatine on Toprawa, why she'd been able to speak out against him since her return—because she could do whatever she wanted! It made perfect sense...

But that also meant that she'd been staying in the Empire completely of her own accord. She could have run away the moment she stepped out of her cell, the moment Palpatine gave her command of the Chimaera. She could have plotted the first jump back to the Alliance, back to the life she'd lived and loved. But she hadn't, because she was certain that her mind had been altered during her stay on the prison. It was just one more of Palpatine's twisted lies.

"You understand, don't you?" Isard asked. "You're here completely of your own volition. This is your rightful place, after all."

Mara knew that she shouldn't give in to her anger, that it was exactly what he wanted, but she couldn't help it. She snapped.

Her lightsaber was in her hand in a moment, the snap-hissechoing throughout the office. Isard's eyes widened and she didn't even bother brandishing her blaster before whipping around, rushing to the door, and slamming the activation panel. Mara let Isard leave, even though she could have used the Force to lock the door.

After about five seconds, Mara pursued her prey. Isard tore down the empty corridors, heading for the entrance that led back to the Imperial Palace. Mara followed at a quick pace, not bothering to break into a run. Isard would not be able to get away. Her lightsaber thrummed in her hand, the steady hum keeping her calm even though her mind was anything but.

For some reason, her mind kept flicking back to Hoth, and those all-too-sparse training sessions with Skywalker. She had taught him that he had to be calm and focused when feeling the Force, and not to give in to his emotions. Mara was doing exactly the opposite now, but she didn't care. She was too far gone to care. She wanted vengeance against the woman who'd ensured she stayed in the Empire, and she was going to get it.

Isard arrived at the turbolift and pressed in a series of numbers. Mara used her lightsaber to disable the corridor's holocams and then grabbed Isard in a Force grip, throwing her against the wall before the doors could open. Isard let out a grunt and she scrambled at the wall, but Mara would not relinquish her hold. Isard had no choice but to stay completely still, unable to even draw her blaster, as Mara stalked forward. The two women locked gazes, anger blazing between them.

Isard was shaking. "You won't get away with this. He will know what you have done!"

Mara tilted her head. "Funny. I would have thought that you, of all people, would be able to understand the concept of falsifying evidence."

Isard started to panic, but she still shook her head. "No…he won't believe you."

"You think you hold special privilege? Because you are his whore?" Mara clucked her tongue. "I thought that you were much more intelligent than that, especially after what he did to me."

"They'll find out the truth, and then Palpatine will come for you!"

Mara snorted in derision. "He already did, remember? And then he placed me in yourprison."

Isard set her jaw. "So that's what this is all about. Revenge?"

"It's all I have, Ysanne. He's taken everything else. Surely you can understand."

"I thought you were supposed to be some kind of Jedi!"

Mara shrugged her shoulders and loosened her Force grip. Isard instantly realized what had happened and whipped around to jab at the turbolift keypad. She managed to get the doors open—

But before she could step inside, Isard had already fallen to a heap on the floor.

Mara stepped forward, her blaster not even shaking in her hand. She blew out a harsh breath as she used her boot to turn the other woman over. She shook her head, a look of sadness crossing her face. "No, Ysanne," she said softly. "I'm no Jedi."

With one last look, Mara stepped into the turbolift and pressed the button that would take her to the Palace.

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Luke had asked Wedge to meet him in the pilot's lounge, and to bring Tycho along. He'd been distant since their return from Toprawa, and wouldn't talk about what had happened when he'd gone to ground. The other Rogues had eventually given up questioning him, although Tycho and Wedge continued to give him suspicious glances whenever the mission was mentioned.

The mission to Toprawa had given him a lot to think about. From the moment he'd learned that the Chimaera was in the sector, the Force had guided him to confront her. He'd planned to make sure the mission was completed, and then leave the Rogues behind. He was going to turn himself over to Mara, to leave himself to her whims.

Technically, that was exactly what had happened on the planet, although in an entirely different manner than Luke had predicted. Instead of going to Mara, she had come to him. He shook his head just thinking about it—he should have figured she would do such a thing. She'd always managed to throw him for a loop.

So he stood still while she threatened him with her lightsaber—a blood red lightsaber, one of Palpatine's construction, no doubt—and in the end, she hadn't been able to kill him. This time, she'd been the one to leave him, which left them in the same place they were before.

Or were they?

Luke was the first to arrive in the pilot's lounge. It was empty, everyone else going about their daily duties or taking in some time in the simulators. Luke helped himself to a cup of caf before sitting down, rehearsing his prepared speech in his mind. He knew that this was the right thing to do. It was a long time in coming, from the first time he had left the Alliance for Dagobah.

Not long after, Wedge and Tycho arrived. The three pilots exchanged greetings and settled down. Luke turned to Wedge with a rueful smile. "So, Wedge. Any idea why I asked you two here?"

"If it's to help you get a date with Mon Mothma, I told you already—she's just not interested. I'm sorry, Luke. Now, Admiral Ackbar, on the other hand…"

Luke laughed. It happened so rarely of late, but he could always count on Wedge or Han or Leia to lighten his mood. He pointed his finger at Wedge's chest. "That—that's exactly why I've decided to leave you in charge, Wedge."

"Why, because I pick on you mercilessly—wait, what?"

Luke smiled at Wedge's befuddled expression. "No, because you know exactly what I need," he said. "More than that, you know what's good for the squadron." He paused. "That's why I need you to take over. For good."

Wedge narrowed his eyes. Both him and Tycho looked surprised, but not terribly so. "More Jedi training?" Wedge asked.

Luke shook his head. "No. I'm staying in the Alliance."

"Then why…" Wedge trailed off as the full implication of Luke's request hit him. "Are you leaving Starfighter Command?" His tone was incredulous. Luke didn't blame him; after all, flying had been Luke's first love. Without his leadership, the Rogues would never have gotten off the ground.

But Wedge had also proven himself as a competent leader, and it was time for Luke to move on. "The Force is telling me that this is the right thing to do," he said. "I need to concentrate on being a Jedi and help Leia finish her training. I can't do that and lead the Rogues at the same time. I'm splitting my focus, and I don't want to be responsible for getting anyone hurt. Or killed."

"But you're Rogue Leader," Wedge insisted. "You started this merry bunch of reprobates—your words, I might add. You can't just leave."

"I can, and I already have," Luke pointed out. "I was gone for six months and the squadron went on fine without me. Same with my recent leave of absence." He paused, biting his lip. "It doesn't take a genius to figure out what happened on Toprawa. I let my feelings influence my actions and I could have gotten us all killed. I can't let that happen ever again." His eyes turned downcast, and his voice grew small. "It's not the Jedi way."

"Luke, you can't let one mission change your mind like this. It was a fluke—a mistake. That's all!"

Luke shook his head insistently. "It wasn't, Wedge. It was a sign that it's time for me to move on. There're other things I need to do in the Alliance." He looked like he wanted to say more, but he didn't.

"Well, what if I refuse this appointment? Then what?"

Luke smiled. "Then I'm still in charge and I'll write you up for insubordination. How does a year of kitchen duty sound to you?"

"That's blackmail and you know it."

Luke's smile grew even bigger. "Exactly. Put that in your pocket for future reference when dealing with Wes."

It took a moment, but Wedge finally cracked a smile. "Are you sure you're doing the right thing, boss?"

"Absolutely. Now stand up." Wedge did so, scrambling quickly to his feet. From behind his back, Luke produced a new rank pip, which he placed on Wedge's flight suit. "Congratulations, Commander Antilles. May your reign be long and prosperous."

Wedge glanced down at his new rank insignia, a mixture of sadness and pride dancing across his features. Then he snapped a salute before holding out a hand to his former commanding officer. "Thank you, Commander."

Luke nodded, then turned to Tycho, who didn't need prompting to follow Wedge's lead. "And since Wedge will need an XO…" He produced another set of pips, which he pinned to Tycho's coveralls. "Congratulations, Captain Celchu."

"Thank you, sir." Tycho saluted and gripped Luke's hand in a firm handshake.

"We won't let you down, Luke," Wedge assured him. "I promise you that."

"I know you won't. That's why I picked the two of you, instead of Wes and Hobbie."

Wedge's face blanched at the thought of those two in charge of Rogue Squadron—or any squadron, for that matter. "Force help us if that ever happens."

"I dunno, I could see Klivian as a good CO," Tycho said, rubbing his chin in thought.

"Seriously? He'd crash his ship before the first mission. And if Wes were in charge, he'd be alternating between hitting on every female in his radius and setting booby traps every five meters."

Luke threw his head back and laughed. "Again, reasons as to why I picked the two of you."

"Right." Wedge tilted his head. "What are you gonna do now, boss?"

"Me? I guess I'll have to break the news to the other Rogues that they now have to deal with you as their CO on a permanent basis."

Wedge grinned. "And then?'

Luke looked down at his feet, an odd expression coming to his eyes. "I'm going to go wherever the Force takes me."

"That sounds…ominous. Is there something you're not telling us, Luke?"

Luke shrugged. "I dunno. I guess we'll find out, right?" With that, he left the room before the others could ask him any other questions. Tycho and Wedge shared a concerned glance before following their former commanding officer into the hallway.

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The corridor outside the Throne Room was empty as Mara stood near the door, waiting for an acknowledgement to enter. She remained as calm and collected as usual. One might have expected her to be nervous and jittery, considering what just occurred on the Lusankya, but she wasn't nervous at all. She had a plan now, and if it failed—well, death was preferable to the life she'd been living.

After a few moments she heard Palpatine's call in her mind. She took a deep breath and pushed open the large wooden doors. She continued forward until she was directly in front of the throne. She knelt before him and waited for him to speak.

"You've failed me, my child. Skywalker still lives."

Mara nodded, not deigning to make excuses for her "failure."

Palpatine's stare bored into her soul. "Explain yourself."

Mara glanced up, but did not stand. "He was too powerful, master. He bested me in combat. I had no choice but to escape."

Would he believe her lies? It was difficult question, to be sure. She kept her mental shields as tight as possible, hoping that her complete belief in her explanation would fool him. It wasn't a lie, per se, but a twisting of the truth that she was all too familiar with.

Eventually, he nodded. "The boy is strong. I should have known better than to send you to kill him."

It was a rebuke, but Mara breathed a silent sigh of relief. "Yes, master."

"But now we have another, more pressing matter to discuss." He gestured for her to stand. She did so, anticipating his next rebuke. "Ysanne Isard was found dead in her prison. The security holocams are, unfortunately, broken, and there were no guards present to witness the event." He paused, as if waiting for a response, but Mara wisely remained quiet. His eyes narrowed. "You will be punished severely for this, Mara."

"If I may speak?" she said boldly. The Emperor said nothing, merely raised an eyebrow at her insolence. "I have information that may interest you, master."

"And what may that be?"

Mara stepped forward and placed a datapad into his hands. "This is information regarding Ysanne Isard. I became suspicious of her activities after speaking with her at the ball several months ago. I decided to look into the matter."

"You felt something through the Force?"

"Yes, and you taught me never to disregard my instincts. I discovered that she and Sate Pestage were involved in a plot to overthrow you. I confronted her with my information and she tried to deny it, but I knew she was lying. I attempted to apprehend her and she ran. I had no choice but to terminate her life."

"I see." Palpatine pursed his lips and continued to peruse the datapad, lost in thought. Most undoubtedly he was trying to sense Mara's sincerity. It was no secret that Mara and Isard did not get along. But still, Isard had no real sense of loyalty—she'd been responsible for her own father's death, after all—and it wasn't hard to believe that she'd turn against Palpatine at the right possible moment. He looked up from the datapad. "These are very serious accusations, Emperor's Hand."

"They are. But you will find that all the data is clear." She trailed off, pausing for effect. "I just want the best for the Empire."

Palpatine reacted just as she'd hoped. He held out a hand and smiled at her. "It seems that you have uncovered quite the plot. This certainly makes up for your failure with young Skywalker."

"Thank you, master."

"I will deal with the rest of this plot after returning from the Death Star. For now, you may return to the Chimaera."

Mara had hoped that Palpatine would send her away. Everything was going as planned. Now, she just had one more step to go. "Thank you, master." She bowed, then rose and left the Throne Room. Before stepping through the large doors, she allowed herself one last glance at her former master.

Hopefully it would be the last time she ever saw his wrinkled face.