Chapter Eleven:
"Remind me again why we came back to Endor?" Jaina puffed as she followed her aunt down the game trail. "Aside from the chance of a history lesson."
Mara cracked a faint smile at her niece's attempt at levity. "We need to start at the site everything took place, see if they left anything behind for us to use in our search."
"Ah." Jaina fell silent again, leaving Mara to her thoughts.
As they walked, Mara's mind wandered to the day she'd said goodbye to Ben. She could still see his glassy eyes, and his brave attempts to stay strong for her.
"Don't go Mommy…" he whispered as she knelt before him on the landing pad.
Close by, but at a respectful distance, Jaina was saying her own goodbyes to her parents. Mara held her emotions tightly in check, not wanting Ben to see his mother break down. She followed his example and kept it together. Gently tucking his hair back, Mara cupped his cheek.
"Ben, your Daddy needs me." She looked him in the eye. "Something really bad happened to him, and he needs help."
Ben lifted his chin. "I want to go too! I want to help Daddy!"
Mara's heart swelled with pride. "I know, but I can't let you come. The best way you can help your father is to stay here with Aunt Leia and Uncle Han, and be a good boy."
Ben's disappointment was clear and Mara felt her heart strings pull.
She tapped his nose lightly. "Besides, someone will need to help them keep an eye and ear out for any clues."
Her son perked up considerably at that. "I will do my best Mommy!"
She smiled warmly. "I know you will."
He hugged her tightly. "Find Daddy! He's probably scared and alone, Mommy!"
Mara's voice hitched as she answered. "I will, I promise."
Her thoughts returned to the present when they breached the edge of the clearing where the Skywalkers had made camp. Jaina paused beside her, waiting for the cue to begin their search grid.
Mara closed her eyes against the flashing of memories from that wretched day. Of Luke taking the blow-dart for her, and then of Ben in the grasp of that blasted alien, his little face turning blue. Anger surged, threatening to cloud her mind but Mara forced it back, unwilling to let anything impede the quest to find her husband.
Mara nodded to Jaina, and they set about perusing the campsite. Jaina came up short when she rounded the tent.
"Stang!" The younger woman whistled. "That's a hell of a hole."
Mara spared the tent a glance. "Whiphids have very large feet."
"And even larger claws, judging by the state of this thing." Jaina leaned in close. "Hey, when did Uncle Luke last get a haircut?"
Mara lifted a brow, her mouth turning down in a slight frown. Of all the things to bring up, she chose that? Mara's retort died, however, when Jaina held up a long strand of hair. The red head joined her niece and took it from her fingers, inspecting it closely.
"This isn't Luke's hair, but I would bet a month's pay it belonged to the group's leader." Mara set her backpack down and pulled out a little bag to place the hair sample in before sealing it. Next she pulled out a marker, and jotted a few notes on the bag.
When her gaze lifted back up to Jaina, the younger woman was shaking her head.
"You really do think of everything, don't you Aunt Mara?"
"It's how I was raised: always be prepared," Mara returned, shaking the marker in Jaina's face. "And don't you ever forget that lesson."
Jaina offered a salute. "Yes Ma'am."
"Let's split up; we can cover more ground that way," Mara instructed.
"Right."
Mara watched her niece for a moment, feeling glad that Jaina had insisted on coming. She'd been correct on all counts: the company had been lovely, and she was grateful for the extra pair of eyes.
Mara shook herself and set to work. As she made to walk away, she caught sight of something in the tent. Mara picked it up and blew out a sigh: it was Ben's favorite stuffed animal. She briefly wondered how he was doing, but then forced herself to focus on her mission.
The sooner she found Luke, the sooner she would see Ben.
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Alone in her quarters, Lady Resmi observed Luke Skywalker as he simply sat on his bed slat, not doing a thing. He'd woken up from a sound sleep about an hour earlier, and seemed to be trying to meditate.
She contemplated him for about thirty minutes more before her mind wandered of its own accord. He hadn't resisted capture once his family had been released, much to her surprise. She'd expected him to put up some resistance at least, but he had remained docile.
For now.
She was not naïve enough to believe he would remain complacent for his entire stay. Indeed, she was counting on him to give her reasons to exact various forms of… revenge on him.
The thought of his family made her blood simmer: he should never have married Mara Jade. That red-head wasn't worthy of him. But he'd gone and wed her anyway, blast him.
She shook her head to clear it, bored now of watching him do nothing. She wondered what was going on behind those baby blues of his, but resisted the urge to pry. She did not want him to recognize her before she was ready to reveal her identity to him.
Or rather, her former name.
She pursed her lips in thought, stroking her long black and purple hair. She had planned to leave him to himself in his cell. That would give him a chance to really simmer and stew in his sorrow, and also allow his imagination to drive him insane.
But it was time for him to join his fellow compatriots in adjusting to his new home, and to do that, he needed an actual room. With that new line of thinking, Resmi's lips twitched into a smirk, and she pressed a button on the arm of her chair.
Instantly the voice of the guard on duty came over the line.
"Yes, My Lady?"
"Let Skywalker out of his cell," she ordered. "Assign him one of the empty dorms, and then allow him to wander and explore a little. Make sure you tell him which corridors are open to anyone."
"As you wish." He paused. "Milady, do you want me to tail him?"
She shook her head even though he could not see. "No. He would know you're there. I want him to be able to act as naturally as possible. I am curious as to what he will do, and to see his reactions to his new home."
"Very well. Was there anything else, My Lady?" he asked.
"No." She signed off and watched as the guard made his way to Skywalker's cell.
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Luke brought his head up when the lock on his door clanked, and then turned. Moments later the portal opened to reveal a man in a dark leather outfit complete with spikes and mementos.
"You've been granted a room." The man jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "So get off your sorry rear and let's go."
When Luke did not move, the man sneered. "You may as well quit moping; it ain't gonna help your loved ones!"
Indignation flashed through Luke, and the guard must have seen it in his gaze, because he lifted his head with a knowing smirk.
"Yeah, I've seen it in all the men who come here: they're angry at being caught, but happy their families are safe." The man chuckled. "Then they get the bombshell dropped on them, and everything changes."
Luke's aching heart pounded with the need to know that his wife and son were alright. But the guard was also correct about one thing: sitting in this cell wasn't getting him anywhere.
Luke sighed and followed the man down the corridor. He was surprised to find that the housing quarters were so close to the holding cells. He wondered if that was intentional, so that the gladiators here would have to walk by every day and see the reminder of their first week here.
The man stopped outside a door and gestured to the number: 25.
"Remember which one is yours, because your compatriots like their privacy." The man cautioned. "Get dressed; there are a few changes of clothing inside. Then go explore. Stick to the green, white and orange marked tunnels unless you are given permission to use the others. And if its unmarked, leave it be."
Luke lifted a brow, but the man was already walking off. Curiosity seized him, and Luke opened his door. The room was tiny as far as bedrooms went, but it was more than adequate for his needs. In fact, it wasn't much larger than his quarters from Echo Base on Hoth all those years ago.
A fond smile traced his lips, and Luke perused his three-drawer dresser, grabbing a pair of pants, a shirt, and undergarments. He sat experimentally on the stone bed, and was relieved to find that there was a thin mattress in place, complete with a blanket and a pillow.
That stone bench in his holding cell had been acutely uncomfortable. The only other amenity in his new space was a tiny closet of a refresher with only a toilet, sink… and the narrowest shower he'd ever seen.
Well, at least it's private. Luke mused.
He made use of the refresher, washing up and feeling better for being clean. Luke looked at himself after donning his newfound clothing. They fit well enough, and he shrugged before returning to his door.
He'd been given permission to explore, and so he would.
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The two hours of her latest lounge shift had felt like two days, and it was all Skye could do not to bolt from the room when her shift ended. She had every intention of ripping her horrid dress to shreds the second she could.
It wasn't as garish in color as the yellow and blue one, and it was definitely more modest, but she felt like a sea-creature. The turquoise gown glittered with sequins from top to bottom, with a boa wrap and even boa-feather accents making a v-shape at the front of the hem. This gown also came with a head-dress: but one that refused to stay in place. She'd been constantly adjusting it while on stage, drawing unwanted attention to herself.
Wain met her backstage as she closed the curtain on the crooning crowds of workmen.
"Remember all that fuss I gave you about that yellow and blue dress?" Skye asked as she passed him.
"Yeah?"
"I take it back. At least I could walk in that one." Skye demonstrated; showing that she could barely move her legs more than a few inches at a time in the annoying gown she had been decked out in.
Wain chuckled lightly, offering a helping hand, but Skye waved it away.
"No; you go take the night off. I think I can waddle along all by myself."
Skye managed not to break into an all-out run as she left the smoky haze of the room, intent on sending yet another dress to the incinerator. She toddled along as quickly as her dress would permit without toppling her head-over-heels. Her mind was not on where she was going as she wandered the halls, however; nor did she think anything of her haphazard pace.
She could only think of getting her dress off and making sure the wretched thing was never seen again.
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Luke had no idea where he was, since without the Force he could not set himself a breadcrumb trail, and the fact that being underground did not let him gain any sense of direction.
He did, however, manage to read the hallway designations. There were corridors everywhere, and when he looked down a few of them, they seemed to never end. So far he had come across green, red, yellow, white and orange.
Not wanting to get into trouble on his first day of relative freedom, Luke diligently remained in the allowed areas, though his curiosity was piqued more than once. Despite his worry for his family, Luke couldn't help but wonder at his new surroundings; his innate desire to explore rising to the surface.
It was while Luke was passing a junction of three tunnels that his attention was drawn by the new color indication: black. So focused was he that his feet continued without his accord, and he met with an incoming body moving at a higher speed.
"Oh dear Force!" a female voice cried in alarm as they both tumbled to the floor in a tangled mess of dress and legs.
Luke did his best to cushion the woman out of pure instinct, and felt the air leave his lungs. It didn't take long for the woman to attempt to disentangle herself from him, but her dress kept getting in the way, and her face was obscured by a fancy head-dress.
"I am so sorry!" she apologized earnestly. "Are you okay? I swear I didn't mean to run into you, I…" she fumbled awkwardly when her dress snagged on her heels, and she ended up on top of him again.
Luke helped her as best he could without invading her personal space too much.
"Blasted dress!" the woman spat, flustered. "I…" she blew at the feathers on her head-dress, but the contraption kept falling back over her eyes, effectively blinding her. "Damned thing!"
She managed to get to her hands and knees, fumbling blindly for a handhold. At last she moved to stand again, but once more her dress caught, and she squeaked in surprise. Luke caught her just before she slammed into him again, and she groaned.
What little he could see of this woman's face was turning a bright shade of red, her embarrassment clear as day.
"I promise, I am not doing this on purpose…" she managed to say around her head-dress, which was now fully over her eyes. Her hands fumbled to remove it even as Luke saw what the problem with her dress was.
"That's alright," Luke assured her, reaching down. "But your gown is stuck around the heel of your shoe, which is why you can't stand up."
"Hunh?" at last she got the feathered cap off, and looked toward their feet just as Luke caught her ankle.
"Lift your foot," Luke instructed.
She placed a steadying hand on his shoulder as she did what he asked, and Luke freed her hem from the shoe. Finally she stood up, offering a helping hand to him. Once they were both standing, there was a moment of awkward silence in which they both tried to figure out what to say next.
Luke couldn't help it, he began to chuckle. The woman lifted an eyebrow, but Luke could see her own amusement rising to the surface until she too was laughing.
"Oh my…" she puffed, wiping a stray mirthful tear from the corner of her eye. "I needed that laugh. Thank you."
Luke smiled, but began to sober.
"Are you sure you're okay?" She cocked her head.
"Yes, nothing's broken," Luke guaranteed.
"Good." She offered a friendly wave, and began to carefully walk off. "Well, have a good evening then."
"Wait." Luke watched as she turned back to him. "Ah… where can I get something to eat?"
She smiled again. "Maxx's place. It's the only kitchen in the establishment worth eating in. Follow the hall to the left there, and go until it dead-ends in a double door. Tell him Skye sent you, and Maxx will take good care of you."
Luke smiled gratefully, until he recalled that he was lost. Luke's stomach rumbled and he looked about with a degree of chagrin. "Ah… I don't suppose you could help me find my way back to my cell too, could you?"
Her expression softened. "Sure. The tunnels are confusing at first, but you'll get to know them."
Luke refrained from saying that he didn't want to get to know them. He had a feeling she knew that already; and anyway, he had promised obedience in exchange for Mara and Ben's freedom.
"Let me get out of this stupid dress, then I'll take you to meet Maxx." She gestured for him to follow, and he did so.
It wasn't until Luke paid closer attention that he noted that she seemed familiar. She noticed his scrutiny and glanced his way, and Luke's breath caught in his throat.
He recognized those eyes, and their pale green hue. Luke looked to her hair, which was mostly hidden under her decorative cap, but somehow he knew it would be white and orange.
"It's you," he murmured.
She lifted her brow. "Pardon?"
"The woman from my cell," Luke said. "It was you."
Comprehension lit her gaze, and she smiled. "Oh. Yes, that was me."
Luke smiled. "I never did thank you."
She shrugged. "Don't worry about it."
"What is your name?"
"Skye Vand." She extended a hand, which Luke took. Her grip was firm and confident, something that spoke volumes to Luke, who'd been taught by his uncle Owen that a person's handshake represented who they were.
"It's nice to meet you," Luke replied. "I'm Luke Skywalker."
She jerked her gaze to him in shock, her eyes going wide, but she quickly composed herself.
"Well, Luke, it's nice to meet you as well," she said softly.