CHAPTER 13
Now that he was there, Luke couldn't remember why he decided to seek Mara out in the gym. At the time, it had seemed like a perfectly good idea. He needed to speak with her, and he had already looked in all the usual places—the mess, her quarters, the sims. He knew that Mara often worked out, so the gym was the next logical place to look for her.
But all his good intentions and logic flew out the window the moment he saw her on the treadmill. She was wearing a tank top and running shorts that left little to his imagination. Her braid bounced against her back and sweat dripped down her brow and she grabbed a towel to wipe her chest…
Luke quickly turned away, taking in a sharp intake of breath and chastising himself for allowing such thoughts to run through his mind. He was there for a reason. He had to speak to Mara about something important. Something that could make a world of difference in his life. And as he'd told Wedge and Han, nothing could ever come of his feelings for Mara. He needed to forget about her. Maybe they were right; maybe he needed to find another girl to take his thoughts off Mara.
Yeah, knowing him, that would never work. He'd probably think about Mara the entire time and then he'd just feel guilty for taking advantage of someone.
"Luke?"
He turned back around, breathing steadily and calling on the Force for calm. Thankfully, it worked. "Hi, Mara," he said, putting on a fake smile. "Sorry to bother you."
She shook her head. "Not a problem. Do you need something?"
She hadn't stopped running, and Luke had to will himself not to stare at her chest. I think I've found exactly what I need.
"Um, I was just hoping to talk. If that's alright."
"Sure. Hop on." She gestured to the treadmill next to her.
"Huh?"
"I've still got a few minutes left in my run. Join me."
He looked down at his flight suit. "I'm not really dressed for working out."
"Then you'll just have to stare at me while I run."
Luke did not think that was a good idea at all. "On second thought, I have running shorts on underneath. That is, if you don't mind…"
Mara stared at him blankly. "Why would I mind?"
"No reason." She didn't reply, so Luke stripped off his flight suit, grabbed a towel, and hopped on the treadmill next to her. He punched in a manual program and slowly built up to Mara's pace. He glanced over at her; he could have sworn that her jaw slackened slightly upon seeing him shirtless, but he was probably just imagining things.
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Mara wondered what in the galaxy had prompted her to make such a stupid suggestion. Oh sure, Jade, invite the most attractive man in the Alliance to run shirtless with you in the gym. That'll really keep your mind off him. She mentally swore at herself, calculating the hours until she could commandeer a ship and leave the Alliance. That was definitely the only solution to the complete and utter mess that had become her life. She had to leave before she got too infatuated with Skywalker. She could never stay in the Alliance, and she'd just end up getting hurt again.
But watching him build up from a jog and slowly increasing his pace, she could not stop her mouth from opening just slightly. Gods, he was the most gorgeous man she'd ever seen.
He turned to her and she abruptly looked away, clamping down all her mental shields. She would never be able to look him in the eye if he'd sensed her thoughts.
They ran in silence for a few moments and Mara could sense Luke's growing anxiety. She knew why he had sought her out. He wanted to ask her about the Force. She didn't mind talking to him—she enjoyed it a lot, as a matter of fact—but not about the Force.
Never about the Force.
Palpatine had taught Mara everything she knew, and even though she desired to learn more, he had told her that her skills were finite and she would never be as proficient in the Force as Darth Vader. At the time, his rebuke had stung Mara to no end. She used her anger to her advantage and worked as hard as she could to prove herself as the Emperor's Hand. Looking back, she realized that his criticism was just one more way for Palpatine to play his two acolytes against each other.
He certainly was the master.
But Mara still believed that she wasn't as strong in the Force as Luke believed she was. She knew enough to succeed in her missions, but that was it. She would never be a Jedi, or a Sith.
Luke...Luke was powerful. She would never be able to tell him what he desired to know.
The optimistic pilot opened his mouth but Mara started speaking before he could get out his words. "So, were you pleased with the results of our simulations?"
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His expression fell for a moment as he sensed her avoidance, but he answered anyway. "Very much so. You four are tremendous pilots."
She grinned. "That's good to hear. Who was the best?"
"Oh, I can't divulge that information."
"Why not?"
"It's privileged. Only special people get to know."
"I'm not special?"
Luke glanced over at Mara, who was pouting mischievously. He stifled a groan in response. She's going to be your subordinate in a few days! Start acting like it!
As usual, Luke ignored the logical voice in his head. He smiled at her. "On the contrary, Lieutenant Jade, you are very special. Maybe one day I can show you just how special you are."
Oh good Force Skywalker, way to sound like a complete and utter idiot! He almost cringed, waiting for Mara to laugh in his face, but she didn't even crack a smile. She remained completely serious, staring at him with an unreadable expression. "Yes," she finally said. "Maybe one day you can."
They fell into another silence and Luke wondered why he and Mara always fell into this familiar pattern of flirting. He couldn't deny that she seemed to be intrigued by him, but it was still difficult for him to believe that she actually liked him. Not that it mattered, anyway.
After a few moments, she spoke up again. "So when will we find out if we made the squadron?"
"It won't be long. I'd like you four to join us on an audition mission, so to speak. Then I just have to speak with some people and make it official."
"Can't you just tell me now if I made it?"
"I could, but then I'd have to kill you," he responded playfully.
Mara laughed. "Oh, Farmboy. You have no idea."
He tilted his head at her. "What?"
"Nothing," she said quickly. "So. The squadron?"
"I'm sorry, but I can't tell you anything, other than that you did really well on the sims."
"Better than Tycho?"
Luke shook his head apologetically. "Sorry. Tycho almost beat Wedge's score."
"And let me guess, Wedge is second only to you?"
Luke shrugged sheepishly. "He has beat me a few times."
"Well, it's good to know that it's possible, at least. Anyway. What place did I come in?"
"Does it really matter?"
"Yes, I want to know."
Her green eyes flashed competitively, and Luke understood her desire all too well. He spent much of his free time in the sims, improving his piloting skills. Everyone else in the squadron told him he was crazy, that he didn't need practice after getting a Death Star silhouette painted on his X-wing hull, but he knew better. He could never stop challenging himself. It was the only way he could stay at the top of the Rogues.
He nodded reluctantly, knowing she wouldn't stop badgering him until he told her, but not wanting to hurt her feelings. She had performed very well for a new pilot, but it definitely wouldn't be good enough for her.
"You came in sixth."
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Sixth. Mara cringed, not even trying to hide her disgust. Almost half the current and prospective Rogues had scored better. That was completely unacceptable. She would never be the best pilot, not with Luke Skywalker around, but she could do better than measly sixth place. Back when she was on the Accuser, she was one of the best TIE pilots in her wing. Apparently Tycho was right, and the Rogues really were the best pilots in the Alliance.
They had to be, for causing the Emperor's Hand to come in sixth place.
"It was a really good effort," Luke said. "Especially for someone unfamiliar with an X-wing."
"I don't need your sympathy," she snapped. "I told you, I can fly anything. I just wasn't good enough."
"That's not true, Mara. You got a better score than pilots who've been with the group for months, and I trust them with my life."
"It's still not good enough for me."
Luke nodded. "Believe it or not, I understand exactly how you feel."
Mara scoffed. "How would you know, Mr. Perfect?"
"Perfect?" Luke exclaimed. "Ha! If you only knew, Mara. If you only knew."
"Now you're just being patronizing."
"Believe what you want, Mara, but I do know how you feel. Why do you think I spend so much time in the sims? Everyone expects me to be the best, most of all myself. If I'm not, then I've failed. I'm Rogue Leader. That's not a designation I take lightly."
Mara opened her mouth to make another retort…but something stopped her. Then she realized that she believed him. For the first time, she wondered what it must be like to be the destroyer of the Death Star. Everyone in the Alliance wanted to be Luke Skywalker. Everyone in the Empire wanted to kill him.
Including Vader.
Mara shivered, suddenly feeling immense sympathy for the man next to her, and also the immense desire to protect him.
She shoved aside that thought before he could sense it, but by the way he glanced at her, she knew it was too late.
"Mara," Luke whispered. His voice sounded broken thanks to his labored breathing, but it was still one of the most calming sounds Mara had ever heard.
She turned away, suddenly uncomfortable, knowing what Luke was about to do, and wanting nothing more than to avoid it.
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"Mara," he repeated. "I know you sense it."
"Don't."
"I have to. I'm sorry."
"If you're sorry, then you'll shut up," she snapped, turning back to him with flashing green eyes. "I don't want to talk about this."
"You're the only person I know that can sense the Force, Mara. I'm sorry, but I have questions and I have to ask them."
"I don't have the answers you want, Skywalker. Just leave me alone." With that she slammed her hand on the off switch and jumped off the treadmill before it could even come to a complete stop.
But Luke managed to grab her arm before she could head for the showers. He stared at her, no longer entranced by her beauty, but fascinated by her strength in the Force. Standing so close to her, with her being so angry, it was almost overwhelming.
"I know you feel it," he said softly. "There's something between us. I felt it on Dantooine. You can help me…I can help you…please. Just tell me where you learned what you know."
She yanked her arm away. "I'm only going to say this one more time, Skywalker. You do not want to know where I learned about the Force. You do not want me to help you. You do not want me to give you answers. You are better off as you are right now."
He shook his head incredulously. "How can you say that? I don't know anything, Mara. They all think I can do these amazing things, but I can't. I'm supposed to be the savior of the Rebellion and I can't even levitate a simple stylus. You can help me, I know you can."
"No I can't, so just leave me alone!" Incensed, she shoved him against the wall and tightened her grip on his shoulders. She was quite shorter than him but that didn't matter; she was still more threatening than anyone Luke had ever met. Luke knew she could snap his neck in an instant if she wanted to.
He swallowed hard. "I can't leave you alone, Mara. It's not who I am."
She narrowed her eyes but violently let him go. Luke could sense her regret for losing her temper, but she didn't apologize. All she said was, "Then the Empire will eat you alive."
She left without giving him a chance to respond. He watched her retreating form, wondering why she had reacted so harshly to his questions about the Force, as intrigued and entranced as ever.
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Luke didn't have much time to dwell on his conversation with Mara, as General Rieekan soon approached him with the news that the Rogues would be transferring back to Thila command. Officially, they were escorting the Millennium Falcon on a supply run, but unofficially it was the first mission for the expanded Rogue Squadron. Luke was very grateful for the distraction, otherwise he'd never be able to forget about their very confusing talk in the gym.
All of that was forgotten as soon as Luke stepped into the briefing room. He immediately transformed into Rogue Leader. His pilots quieted down quickly, even Wes and Dack who had been whispering furiously in the back row. Luke wondered what they were conspiring about now, but decided that it was better if he didn't know.
Two new pilots sat in the front row: Tiom Pettis and Kit Valent, both recruited by Arhul Narra to fill out the expanded Rogue Squadron. They both had attended flight school on their homeworlds and joined the Rebellion after the Battle of Yavin. They were excellent pilots and would make a great addition to the Squadron. Narra had introduced them to Luke as soon as they arrived on Home One and they'd immediately clicked with both Luke and the other Rogues. It seemed like the plan was coming together beautifully.
"Good morning, gentlemen," Luke started. "I have good news: we're heading back to base."
Dack's hand shot in the air. "Excuse me, boss, but would it be wishful thinking for me to ask if base was moved to Mon Cal?"
"It would."
"Dammit." Beside him, Wes patted Dack's arm. Luke rolled his eyes and suppressed a laugh.
"Anyway, as I was saying, we're leaving this afternoon and will be escorting the Millennium Falcon back to Thila, so make sure you pack all your belongings."
"That includes your blow-up doll, Hobbie!" Wes shouted across the room. Hobbie flashed Wes a rude gesture without even taking his eyes off the front of the room.
Luke stole a glance at the two new pilots, who were alternating between stifling their laughter and looking horrified at their new surroundings. "Don't worry, Flight Officers," Luke assured them. "They're much more mature once they get inside a cockpit."
Zev raised his hand. "What about the other four pilots, boss?"
"This mission will be their final test. Once we get back to Thila, we'll make the official decision. But unless something horrible goes wrong on the mission, they'll definitely be filling out the final four spots."
"Can I offer my opinion right now, boss?" Dack asked.
"No."
Dack slumped down in his chair, defeated.
"What about me?" Wes said.
"No."
Wes echoed Dack's gesture.
"Don't worry, I'll be more than eager to hear your opinions when we get back to base."
Wes straightened up and grinned. "Excellent. I wrote a report!"
"You did?"
"Yes. It's called 'Why We Need More Hot Women in Rogue Squadron,' by Wes Janson, Lieutenant."
Luke sighed and placed his face in his palm. Peering through his fingers, he gave Wedge a pointed look. He didn't even need to say a word. Wedge nodded, then quickly snapped around and hurled a balled up piece of flimsiplast at Wes's head.
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Mara stood at loose attention in the hangar, surrounded by the eight Rogues and the three former TIE pilots. Shifting uncomfortably, she finally let her bag slide from her shoulder to rest on the ground next to her leg. She hated showing any sign of weakness, but they'd been waiting for fifteen minutes now and she no longer cared what the others thought. Besides, Tycho had set his bag on the ground after five minutes of waiting, so she couldn't think herself too weak for finally succumbing to temptation.
And of course, just as her bag hit the ground, Luke Skywalker came sauntering into the hangar, practically whistling. She immediately snatched up her bag and placed it back on her shoulder.
Luke stopped in front of them, accompanied by General Cracken and General Rieekan. Off in the distance, Han Solo and Leia Organa were having some sort of argument by the Millennium Falcon, while Chewbacca banged at the ship's hull in a vain attempt to fix whatever had most recently broken on the dilapidated ship. The prissy protocol droid followed them and Mara had to restrain a laugh, remembering how much the droid had annoyed Captain Solo on their last flight.
"Gentlemen. Ma'am." Mara focused her attention back on Luke as he began speaking. She couldn't help but notice that he seemed more nervous than usual. Was it because he had an audience? He had never before seemed nervous during briefings. But perhaps Luke really did worry about how others thought of him more than she previously believed. After all, having to be perfect all the time could get to a person.
She would know.
"We've been tasked to escort the Millennium Falcon on a shipping run to one of the smaller Rebel bases. We'll be staying there for awhile, which is why we requested that you pack your belongings. You'll need to say good-bye to Home One for the time being."
Mara glanced at Tycho and they shared a smile. Being moved to a base was a very good sign. It meant that the Alliance trusted the four of them enough to give them a location. And since they were flying with Rogue Squadron, Mara could only assume that they were going to make it. This was most likely just one final test before they received official notice.
Despite all her better judgment and her insistence that she was going to leave the Alliance as soon as possible, Mara still felt a pang of pride at the prospect of being a part of the exclusive Rogue Squadron. She might have come in sixth place in the sims, but she was still better than most of the pilots in the Alliance. And she hadn't even gone through an official flight school.
Okay Jade, don't get cocky. You haven't made the squadron just yet.
"This mission should be fairly simple," Luke continued. "Make a few jumps, arrive at the base, fly patrol while the Falcon lands, then head down ourselves. Any questions?"
There were none so Luke dismissed the Rogues and asked the former Imperials to remain for just a moment longer. "As I said, the mission should be fairly simple, so this should be the perfect time to get familiar with your new X-wings and your astromechs. I know it can take a little getting used to, especially after flying TIEs for so long."
"We'll be fine," Tycho assured him, the eternal spokesperson for the group.
"I'm sure you will. Good luck." He snapped a salute which the others immediately returned. Mara turned to walk towards her ship…
But Luke's arm was on her shoulder, holding her back. She stood in place, refusing to face him. She could sense his breath on her shoulder and it sent shivers down her spine. "May the Force be with you, Mara," Luke whispered.
Part of her wanted to slap him…but she didn't. The other part, the part that was intrigued by Luke Skywalker and wondered what it would be like to be with a boy, won this round. "May the Force be with you, too," she replied, just as softly. Luke followed her as she approached her X-wing.
He watched her circle her new ship, inspecting it. He grinned in approval. "You catch on quick, Mara."
She finally turned to him and nodded. "I pride myself on that. Plus, I'd never fly in a ship I didn't personally inspect. That's just asking for trouble."
"I couldn't agree more."
"So. I'm assuming that's my astromech?" She gestured towards a red and white R5 unit already fitted in the droid socket. It tweedled expectantly and she chuckled.
"Yup, that's yours. Assuming you get in the squadron, of course."
"Of course," she said. "What's its name?"
"Doesn't have one, yet. It's fresh off the assembly line."
"Huh. I've never named a droid before." It was true; her old protocol droid had come to her already named. Briefly, Mara wondered what had become of that droid and her ship. She pushed those thoughts from her mind, unwilling to let herself be pulled into the past. She needed to concentrate on her future.
"Don't look to me for assistance. Mine came to me already named and besides, Artoo isn't the most clever name for an R2 unit."
Mara chuckled again. "That's true. Hmmm." She tilted her head at her new droid, lost in thought. She had no idea why she was giving so much consideration to the name of a stupid astromech droid when she was planning to leave the Alliance in a few days, but she was. And, of course, she had absolutely no inspiration. She bit her lip in frustration.
"Red."
Her head snapped around at Luke's voice. He was staring at the astromech with a funny look on his face. "What?" she asked.
He looked back to her and reached out to touch her hair. She almost flinched away, but she couldn't. "Red." His hand left her hair and pointed at the droid. "You match. See?"
His smile was infectious and she could not stop her own grin from spreading across her face. Dear gods, what was this farm boy doing to her? She almost rolled her eyes at how ridiculous she was being. Is this how she would have acted if she had been a normal girl growing up in the galaxy?
"Yeah, I guess we do." She nodded slowly. "Red. I like it. Do you like that name?" she asked the droid. His dome turned several times and he squealed appreciatively.
"I guess he likes it," Luke said, laughing.
"Yeah. Do you ever manage to figure out what the hell they're saying?"
"After awhile you start to gain a sense of when they're telling you off, but most of the time I'm thankful I have a data screen to interpret Artoo's bleeps."
"Yeah, I can imagine—"
"HEY!"
Luke and Mara both jumped as a loud voice reverberated across the hangar. Mara turned to find Wes Janson standing in his X-wing with his hands placed indignantly on his hips. Every other pilot in the hangar was staring at them, just as amused. "If you two don't mind, we have a mission to attend to—or did you forget, commander?" Wes wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Luke rolled his eyes and Mara laughed to cover up the flush creeping across her face. Very quickly, Luke patted her on the shoulder before taking off towards his X-wing. He pointed at Wes. "That'll be five days of kitchen duty for you when we get back to base, lieutenant."
"Aw, come on!"