A/N: Song for this chapter: Reflections of Passion, Yanni

CHAPTER 10

The next several days fly by swiftly, and we all can't stop speculating about what really happened to Jes Gantoris. Cilghal, who has been studying Jedi healing techniques, isn't able to determine a cause of death. From her examinations, it seems as if Gantoris dropped dead of his own accord, but we all know better—that Exar Kun's spirit most certainly had something to do with the man's death.

Corran and I keep our suspicions about Kyp Durron to ourselves, but make it a point to keep an eye on him as much as possible. Corran takes to practically trailing him everywhere, which is fine by me. To Durron's credit, he seems genuinely distraught over Gantoris's death and, when Luke questions him, doesn't appear to have been involved. I know that Luke would be able to tell if Durron was lying directly to his face, but I still believe that there is more to the story than the boy is telling.

Luke doesn't press the issue, but he does grow even more attentive to his golden-boy student, as if he believes that the extra attention will keep Durron on a straight and narrow path. I know that Luke feels responsible for what has transpired, so he will therefore try to ensure that nothing bad happens again on his watch; and to do that, he will take even more control over his Academy, much to my dismay.

Thankfully, Luke's spirits are brightened by the arrival of Han Solo and Chewbacca, who've offered to bring some much-needed supplies to the Academy; no doubt Leia Organa Solo had some influence in convincing Han to make the out of the way trip, and I can't help but wonder just how much of Luke's mood she can sense from all the way on Coruscant.

When I head out to the landing platform to help unload the supplies, Luke is already there, talking and laughing with his old friends. Han flashes me a roguish smile when he sees me.

"Why hello there, Jedi Jade," he greets.

I roll my eyes. "Please, don't call me that. It sounds ridiculous."

"Now you know how I feel," Luke interjects.

"Don't you worry, there's no way in hell that I'm ever calling you 'Master Skywalker,'" Han teases, and Chewbacca growls in agreement. "Do you actually call him that, Mara?"

I shrug. "I have to. He makes me."

Luke's mouth drops open in protest. "I do not!"

"Oh yes, he does!" I tease, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "He just loves it when I call him 'Master.'"

"Yeah, I'll bet he does," Han mumbles under his breath, causing Chewbacca to guffaw loudly. Luke turns bright red and keeps unloading the supply crates, avoiding the rest of us, but I turn to Han with my hands on my hips.

"Excuse me?" I ask indignantly.

Han smiles, looking proud of himself. "What?"

I narrow my eyes at him. "You just watch yourself," I hiss, pointing my finger in his direction.

"I'd tell you to do the same, but I think Luke does enough staring for the both of you."

My eyes widen in shock, and I drop the crate in my hands and stalk forward until I'm right in Han's face—as much as I can be at my height. He continues to smile, refusing to back down. My icy exterior hardens as I begin to wonder what exactly Luke has told Han about our "relationship." Han is his best friend, and more than anyone Luke would turn to him for advice.

Or maybe Han is just way more perceptive than anyone believes.

I roll my eyes and turn away before making a bigger deal of the situation than it needs to be. "You just watch it, Solo, or I'm gonna comm your wife and tell her about that extra crate of ale you brought and say you intend to corrupt her brother."

"Hey! I'm sorry, okay? Leia doesn't need to know anything about that! Mara? Mara!"

That night I eat dinner with Corran and Tyria, wanting to give Luke privacy with his old friends. They sit in the corner of the mess, talking and laughing loudly. Luke does a good job of seeming engaged in the conversation, but it's obvious through the Force that he is distant. His mind is elsewhere, as it has been since Gantoris was found dead in Exar Kun's temple. If Han realizes this, he doesn't say a word, but instead keeps giving Luke reports from the mopping up action against the Imperial Remnant. From what I am able to overhear, the Remnant has been pushed back into a small corner of the galaxy centered on Bastion, their capital. A few leftover warlords and admirals continue to squabble with each other over territory, making the New Republic's job of recruiting new worlds that much easier.

I can't even imagine what the situation in the galaxy would be like if Grand Admiral Thrawn had been victorious, and am eternally grateful that never came to pass. Thrawn was brilliant, to be sure, but just like so many others, he had been too twisted by Palpatine to be trusted.

Luke eventually leaves Han and Chewbacca alone, heading off to do Force-knows-what, and not long after that Corran and Tyria leave to get in some sparring practice, but I tell them to go without me, hoping that I can talk to Han about Luke.

I make my way over to their table and plop myself down in Luke's now-empty seat. "Got any extra ale?" I ask.

Han cracks open a bottle and passes it to me across the table. "You supposed to be drinking, Jade? Is 'Master Skywalker' okay with that?" he smirks.

"Oh, shove it," I reply before downing a large gulp from the bottle. "I'm done for the day, as a matter of fact."

"I thought a Jedi's work is never done."

I sigh and prop my chin on my hands. "Some people would have you believe that," I say pointedly. Chewbacca growls in agreement.

"Yeah, the kid never lets himself rest, does he?"

"Nope," I agree. "I'm worried about him."

"Yeah?" Han raises his eyebrows. "And just why is that?"

My mouth twists into an ironic smile. "Oh, wouldn't you like to know."

"Who says I already don't?" Han replies, grinning wickedly.

I grimace, but to my surprise, I am not mad that he knows about Luke and me; instead, I feel relieved not having to hide it anymore. I take a deep breath. "So he told you what's been going on, huh?"

"He didn't have to, but thanks for the confirmation," Han gloats, leaning back and threading his fingers behind his head. I throw my bottle cap at him, kicking myself for falling for his trap. "I knew something was gonna happen between you two after you were shot down during the Katana fleet battle."

I laugh despite my annoyance with him. "Really, that far back? I'm impressed. Luke thought you only started to suspect something on Wayland."

He shrugs. "I could tell by the way he acted around you. He didn't wanna leave your side. And then all that stuff with C'baoth happened and he gave you his old lightsaber, and, well, you'd have to be an idiot not to figure it out after that."

"Well according to you, a lot of people here are idiots."

Han raises an eyebrow. "Including him, you mean?"

"No, he's figured it out," I sigh. "He just won't let himself do anything about it. He thinks he can't form attachments because of his position in the Jedi Order."

Han's quiet for a moment, and Chewbacca growls something softly.

"Yeah, he's always held himself to a higher standard than everyone else," Han agrees.

"Ain't that the truth."

"So, Jade," Han continues, kicking his feet onto the table, "what are you gonna do about it?"

"Me?"

"You're part of this equation too, aren't ya?"

I lower my head and bang it against the table. "If only it were that easy," I mumble.

"I think it runs in the family. They have to make their lives incredibly difficult."

"Yeah, well, I wish he'd realize that he doesn't have to go through all this on his own."

"He'll figure it out."

"Possibly. But even if he does, I'm not even sure that anything should be going on between us."

"Why not? You don't feel the same way about him?"

"Of course I do, and don't you dare repeat that to anyone, Solo! But I'm his apprentice. It would be wrong of us to be together. We kind of made an unspoken pact not to let anything else happen between us."

"Oh, well, I'm sure that unspoken pact will be upheld to the highest of standards the next time you two get alone and he makes you call him 'Master.'"

"I hate you."

"Besides, Mara, you're not gonna be his apprentice forever."

"No…but he is going to be 'Master Skywalker, founder of the New Jedi Order' forever. And he'll continue to carry all his unrealistic expectations that come along with the job," I sigh.

Han gives me a sympathetic look. "He blames himself for Gantoris's death, doesn't he?"

I nod; Han definitely is way more perceptive than most people think. "Yeah, which just makes this whole situation even worse. At first he was adamant about all of us being equal here at the Academy, but he's starting to try to control everything 'cause he's so afraid of something bad happening again. Who knows if he'll ever relax and let himself be a normal person again?"

"With you, you mean?"

I look up, and the roguish grin is back on Han's face. I down the rest of my ale in one gulp, and then reach over the table. "Gimme another bottle," I demand, and Han chuckles.

"She's drinking heavily, Chewie, you know what that means—it's serious…Ow! That hurt, Mara!"

Later that night, after saying good-bye to Han and Chewbacca and pacing around the meditation garden for several hours, I find myself back in my quarters, unable to sleep. I toss and turn for another hour before giving up and pushing myself out of bed. I put on my robes and clip on my lightsaber, intending to get in some remote practice, what I normally do when I can't sleep, because I've never been able to master the art of a Force trance.

But once in the lift, before I can stop myself, my hand presses the button for Luke's floor on its own accord. I immediately flinch and move to press the correct button, but can't bring myself to do so. Sighing, I wrap my arms around myself and settle in for whatever is about to happen.

Before I can even bring up my hand to knock on his door, it slides open by itself. Hesitantly, I look inside, but Luke isn't anywhere to be found. "In here," I hear him call from his bedroom. He is the only one at the Academy with more than one room—another perk of being in charge.

I slowly walk into the other room, pausing just beyond the doorway, all too aware that this is the first time I have been inside Luke's quarters, and I am already in his bedroom.

Those thoughts quickly go away as I see Luke sitting on the bed, facing the window with his back to me, his shoulders slumped over. I have to suppress the urge to run to him and wrap my arms around his shoulders and make everything okay. Instead, I stand there motionless, waiting for him to acknowledge my presence. Almost unnoticeably, he pats the bed next to him, and I oblige.

"Is it appropriate for me to be here?" I ask lightly.

Through the darkness, I see a smile creep onto his face. "Has our relationship ever been appropriate?"

"I guess at some point I wasn't compelled to kill you."

"Or have vowed to make my life so difficult."

"Is that what I do? Make your life difficult?"

He doesn't mince words. "Difficult? Yes. Completely worth it?" He finally looks at me. He gently touches my hair and smiles. "Oh, yes," he sighs.

I roll my eyes. "Getting all emotional on me again, Skywalker?"

"Can't help it around you, Jade."

"Oh, shut up," I say, shoving him lightly with my shoulder. He shoves me back, and then we sit there, motionless again, staring out the window into the jungle beyond. I can see the top of Exar Kun's temple in the distance. Sighing, I lay my head on his shoulder, wanting to comfort him. "It's not your fault, Luke."

"That's what everyone says."

"Well, it's true," I insist. "You told us not to go there. You can't blame yourself for what happened to Gantoris."

"I know," he whispers.

"But you'll do so anyway?"

"You don't understand, Mara."

"Make me," I demand. He shakes his head. "You're blaming the wrong person, Luke."

"And who should I be blaming?"

"I think you know."

"Kyp doesn't know anything. I questioned him myself."

"I know, but that temple is wrong, Luke," I argue. "You've been there yourself. You know how it feels. The darkness inside—it can make people do terrible things. Kyp Durron is the most powerful student here—yes, even more powerful than me," I add before Luke can interject. "But he's untrained and has no control, and worse, he wants revenge on the Empire. He is a bad combination of anger and power and he worries me."

Luke sighs against me, considering my words but unwilling to do anything concrete about them without proof. "I can't kick him out just because you have bad feelings about him. Those are all the reasons why he needs to stay here, so I can watch him and help him."

"Not if he was involved in this, Luke."

"No, especially if he was involved in this."

"Luke—"

"Don't argue with me, Mara! You do not understand."

I lift my head and glare at him. "Make me." He doesn't respond. I turn his chin around to face me, so that my next words can really sink in. "You can't do everything by yourself, Luke. You're going to break if you keep this up."

"No, I won't."

I sigh and shake my head in aggravation. "And you say I make things difficult."

Luke's lips curl into another smile. "I learned from the best." After a few seconds, he wraps his arm around me, allowing me to lay my head on his shoulder again. "I'm sorry for getting angry."

"Don't be. It's refreshing, actually. It makes you seem more human. Sometimes I think you need to remind yourself that you're only human."

Luke's eyes lose focus, as if he is remembering a moment from a time long past. "Much anger in him, like his father," he whispers.

"What?"

I feel his fingers start to play with my hair. "Master Yoda said that about me, when I arrived on Dagobah."

"Vader let his anger control him, Luke. You don't. That's the difference between you two."

"You don't understand, Mara. You didn't know him."

"Excuse me?" I ask in disbelief, pulling away from him and sitting up completely straight. He instantly cringes, realizing his mistake. "I think you're forgetting something pretty damn important, Luke."

He's quiet for a moment, trying to get up the courage to pose a question he's always wanted to ask me. "Go ahead," I prompt him.

Luke bites his lip in hesitation. "What was he like?"

"You know what he was like," is all that I feel comfortable replying.

"Please."

I sigh, remembering all my interactions with Vader; all the times he exploded at me, coming entirely too close to snuffing out my life. If I'd only known then that one day I'd be sitting here with his son, training to be a Jedi, and in possession of his old lightsaber.

"I didn't like him," I reply. "He definitely didn't like me. It was understood between us. We worked together when necessary. That was it." Again, Luke stares at Exar Kun's temple, tall in the darkness, all his fears and worries echoed in the lines of his face. "You are nothing like him, Luke."

"He wasn't always Darth Vader."

"No, he wasn't. But that doesn't mean you're going to follow the same path he did. You're too strong, Luke—if you were able to stand up to Palpatine, then nothing can turn you. Trust me."

"I still worry. I don't know if I'll ever be able to stop."

I feel badly bringing up the subject, but I can't help myself. I have to. "Even at the expense of your own happiness?"

He looks at me again, sadness and guilt reflected in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispers.

"Me, too," I reply.

"I wish I could turn off my feelings for you."

"Me, too."

"But I can't."

I sigh. "So what do we do now?"

"I don't know."

I laugh, unable to control myself. "Force, this is so messed up."

"No, don't say that," Luke replies, looking disturbed by my comment. "You're not messed up."

"Oh, please. I have more issues than a holozine stand."

"You'll get over them," he promises.

"Just like you'll get over yours? You know better than that, Luke."

He shrugs. "I guess I do."

Not knowing what else to say, I stand up to leave, but Luke holds me back. "Please stay," he whispers, and I'm reminded of that night in the garden, lying on our backs, looking at the stars. Again, I give in to him, and reach out my hand to touch his face. He takes it and kisses it gently.

"So what do we do now?" I ask again.

"I don't know," he repeats, rising from the bed. I force myself not to look into his eyes, because I suddenly feel the urge to slap him…or to cry.

Either one would do at this moment.

Sensing my thoughts, Luke opens his arms and, against my better judgment, I press myself against him, sighing into his embrace. Through the Force, I feel the turmoil that rages inside of him—his desire for happiness battling with his very real fear of following in his father's footsteps.

Slowly, I feel him relax against me, and I know which side has won the battle. His hand begins to move up and down my back, but I tense and pull away before anything else can happen. He may have decided to let his desires win out this time, but I cannot afford myself that luxury. I cannot let my heart rule my head. I throw up all my shields as I remember Corran's words of advice to me: Try not to get hurt.

"Don't do this if you can't follow through, Skywalker," I growl, my eyes shooting daggers at him. "Don't put me through that."

"I know," he whispers. "I'm sorry. You deserve better."

You deserve better, I think, but I do not say it aloud. He deserves to be happy. He deserves much more than the burden he has placed upon himself.

"But I just can't push this issue aside, Mara," he continues, once again reading my mind. "I wish that I could. You have no idea how much it's killing me not to just say 'kriff it' and let myself be with you."

"But even if you did, you're still my master," I sigh, bringing myself back to reality, and all of my own reasons as to why we cannot be together.

"And you're my apprentice. Everyone is my apprentice. I just can't ignore the feeling that if I let myself be with you, something horrible is going to happen."

"Dammit, Luke!" I explode, balling my fists and pushing him away from me, no longer able to contain my frustration. "You're a regular human being with feelings and desires just like everyone else! Acting on them isn't going to ruin the galaxy! You're being so stupid—I mean, do you seriously think that love is going to make you turn to the dark side?"

Love.

I regret the word as soon as it leaves my mouth. For long moments we stand still, staring at each other, the word thick in the air that separates us, like smoke. The word echoes inside my mind, taunting me, reminding me of what I can never have—because Luke will not allow himself to care—and of what I never knew I so desperately wanted.

Love.

Incensed with myself, I turn on my heel to leave. I am no longer the old Mara Jade, who was once the Emperor's Hand. I have not been that woman since Wayland, and I do not want to be her ever again. But now, with that word finally admitted aloud, I once again envy the girl who was always able to ignore her feelings and focus on the task at hand. She would never have so innocently uttered that word.

Love.

Before I can leave, Luke's hand is on my arm, pulling me back to him. His touch is firm but gentle, warm and tender. His eyes are filled with passion and desire. He stares at me for a long second.

And then we are kissing again.

In that moment, it is unspoken between us. I will never let myself say it out loud, but I know that, for better or for worse, that's what this is…

Love.