Chapter Twenty-One:

It was the morning of Shmi's lifeday party, and while Luke was looking forward to spending time with his friends and family— mainly his daughter— there was something that had been weighing him down ever since that fateful hour on Kwen.

He had something to do before he could rest easy. Well, easier.

That was what caused him to knock on General Madine's office door at an early hour. Shmi was off with Leia getting ready for her big event, and so Luke had taken the opportunity to get this off his chest.

Taking a deep breath— and knowing that what he was about to do would be treading thin ice— he rapped three times in quick succession and entered without waiting for a reply.

"You and I need to have a talk, Sir," Luke said as he sat down opposite General Crix Madine.

Madine gave him a look of strained patience. "Do we now?"

Luke nodded.

"What about, may I ask?"

"You know very well what, Sir," Luke ground out. "If you were not a general and my commanding officer, then I would have punched you the second I walked in here." Luke leaned forward. "Why did you send those men to their deaths?"

Madine, seething over Luke's daring form of address, sat back. "They agreed to it, that's why."

"On your orders," Luke pushed.

"Nevertheless they agreed to do it," Madine said unrepentantly.

Luke slammed his palms down onto the desk. "Dammit Madine, they could have lived! There was a chance for more than just me to get out, but they stayed because you told them to!"

Luke was livid, his nostrils flaring, and Madine actually scooted his chair back in shock. He'd ever seen Luke lose his cool like this.

"What I want to know is why." Luke finished in a quiet tone that was no less angry.

"Because: whether you like it or not, you are too valuable to lose, Commander," Madine replied calmly.

Luke shook his head fervently. "No, I am a man; plain and simple. I am no more or less important than anyone else in the Alliance." He leaned farther forward. "And if you ever pull a stunt like this again, I will walk out. Do you understand what I am saying General?"

Madine frowned. "You cannot be serious."

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Luke ground out.

Madine studied him intently, and Luke held firm.

"No, you don't," he said at length.

Luke stood. "I am disgusted with you Sir. You made a call, and I respect your rank, Sir, but I will never be conned into leading a group into a suicide mission ever again."

"I did what I thought was necessary," Madine had the gall to say.

Luke had to bite his tongue to keep himself from getting court marshaled. After a moment he shook his head sadly and moved to the door.

"Well, you are the one who has to live with that, Sir," he said softly before letting himself out.

Once in the hall with the door shut, Luke leaned against the wall and took several steadying breaths.

It didn't help.

Unable to take being in the same area as the man behind that door, Luke wandered the base aimlessly until he came to a small alcove off an abandoned hallway. He did not know why, but something about this particular spot called to him.

So, with a careful slide, Luke seated himself and extended his casted leg. He leaned his head against the wall, staring at nothing until he could no longer stem the flow of tears. He let them fall for his lost comrades in arms.

He wished with all his heart that his men had listened to him and gotten out too. Luke hated with every fiber of his being that Madine had sought to protect him because Luke as 'invaluable'.

He snorted in disgust and closed his eyes forlornly. No one was so valuable as to sacrifice an entire team…

"Luke?"

His eyes sprang open, and Luke looked up to see Mara standing there, her head tilted curiously. A glint of concern alighted in her gaze, and Luke gave her a half-smile before looking away again.

Mara said nothing for a moment. Then, without a word she seated herself beside him, still silent. Luke was grateful that she did not launch into a multitude of questions he was not ready to answer.

They simply sat together until Mara turned her head slightly, though she did not lift if from where it rested against the wall.

"You know, you stole my quiet corner," she quipped easily.

Luke turned his head as well, lifting a brow. "What?"

Mara indicated the alcove. "This has sort of become my alone-place, where I come to think and just have a moment of solitude."

So that was why this place had felt so welcoming.

Luke blushed lightly. "Sorry…" he started to get up, but Mara placed a hand on his arm to stop him.

"I don't mind sharing it with you… so long as the entire base doesn't get invited." Her lips quirked up into a wry smirk, and Luke relaxed, shooting her his own small smile.

"This is a good place to think." Mara went on, turning back to fore. "I did a lot of that right here."

Luke's interest was definitely piqued, but out of gratitude for her not pressing him, he afforded her the same courtesy. If she wanted to share her thoughts with him, she would.

But… as good as it had felt ripping into Madine, Luke's burden was still not quite lifted. And Luke found that he wanted to share his pain with Mara… to open up to her in any way.

"I can't stop thinking about Kwen." Luke sighed heavily. "I asked Madine just a little while ago why he sent my team on a suicide mission. He wasn't even sorry about what he did."

Mara was silent, knowing he wasn't done.

"His answer to my query was that I was too important to lose." Luke snorted acerbically. "If that was true, they'd never have let me leave this base. I lead the Rogues on missions all the time, and they've never had an issue with it. So why now? I know I don't have as much experience on the ground as I do in the air, but I won't learn if they don't give me a chance."

"Sometimes our leaders make judgment calls based on the information they have," Mara offered quietly. "Whether we like it or not, there are times when we are forced to choose less… popular… courses of action. But, the nice thing about being a subordinate is that such calls are ultimately on our superior's shoulders. We carry out their orders, yes, but they actually give them, and they have to report and be able to stand by those orders. Even when we don't always agree with them, they are still our leaders, and we agreed to serve them… and every now and then that means following orders that are sometimes against our own views of right and wrong."

Luke lifted his head and stared at her intently. The way she spoke, it was like she was talking for herself more than him.

"Are you speaking from experience?" he asked tentatively, not wanting to push her away.

Mara bit her lip. "Yes." It was little more of a whispered word, and then she continued in the same tone. "I have carried out orders I did not want to. And though there were times I defied orders, it was only to find out that they were carried out behind my back later on. Either way… I am not proud of all my choices… or of all the orders I blindly followed."

She looked down at her hands. "I've done many… ugly things, Luke, under orders. And while I could place all the blame with my superior, I still have to live with the fact that I chose to obey."

Luke was both morbidly curious about her past, and confused as to how this was supposed to help him feel better.

"I guess what I am trying to say here is that you have to choose for yourself whether you let it bother you." Mara shrugged self-consciously. "I'm not saying that you have to like what happened, but it's not your fault that your superior officer gave orders you don't agree with. And… those men did choose to accept them, when they could have declined."

Luke nodded, seeing where she was going with this. "I know, but it's still hard to accept."

Mara took his hand gently. "Then instead of focusing on the negative orders… try simply honoring those men's' sacrifice by being grateful you're still alive. Survivors guilt is never fun to live with."

Luke took a shuddering breath, closing his eyes against the painful memory of Onad being shot in the stomach.

To his surprise, Mara brought his head to her shoulder. "I'm afraid I'm not good with the whole comfort thing. But… I do know when it's okay to let someone cry on your shoulder."

He needed no further encouragement. Luke turned into her embrace and wept openly, letting the feelings and guilt that had been stewing inside him for weeks flow with them. It was amazing how cleansing it was for him.

When he finished crying, the burden that had been atop his shoulders was gone, and he simply clung to Mara in relief.

Then, without fully realizing what he was doing, Luke turned his head and planted a chaste kiss on Mara's cheek.

The second his lips touched her creamy skin two things happened simultaneously: Luke froze in sudden fearful realization that he'd just crossed a line, and Mara tensed in shock from the intimate contact.

Luke sat back, flushing in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable…" he stammered, trying to salvage their newborn friendship. "I… I just… you see, it's…"

Mara surprised him by putting a finger to his lips. "Let's not get too carried away here. It wasn't all that bad, was it?"

Luke gazed at her oddly. "No…" he murmured. "It wasn't…"

"Then I won't take it as anything like that," Mara told him gently. "You were just saying thank you."

Was I? Luke had to wonder.

By the way Mara shifted beneath his gaze, he sensed things were not so clear for her either.

Seeking a way to diffuse the not-entirely-understood tension between them, Luke looked to his leg. Inspiration struck, and Luke withdrew the marker Leia had given him.

"I don't know if you're a stickler for tradition, but according to Leia you're supposed to sign someone's hard cast." Luke offered the stylus. "I guess it's good luck or something, I really don't know, but everyone else seemed so eager to do it."

Sensing the intentions beneath his spoken words, Mara smiled appreciatively and accepted the marker.

"I'd be honored." She bent over his leg, and then paused, chuckling. "Though I might have to search good and hard for a free inch of space: looks like the Rogues took up most of it."

Luke chuckled. "Just beware of Janson's jokes… they'll keep you awake at night."

They sniggered together and Mara peered at the underside of his leg. "Ah, here we go."

Luke watched, strangely fascinated as Mara wrote something— almost gingerly— upon his cast. When she finished, Mara blushed and handed him the writing utensil.

"Promise me you won't read it until you're alone tonight," Mara nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Alright, though I'll probably have to use a mirror to see…" Luke joked.

Mara grinned.

After a moment they sobered, and Mara took a deep breath. "I've done a good deal of thinking while in my hospital room."

Luke shot her a look. "I thought you only did that here?"

Mara swatted his arm, and he laughed. "Laugh at me too much and I may reconsider."

Luke tilted his head. "Reconsider what?"

"Teaching you what I can about the Force."

Luke's breath caught in his throat. "Y-you mean it?"

Mara held up a finger. "I have absolutely zero experience with teaching, so this won't be a ride in the park for either of us. If you can accept the way I do things, then I'm willing to give this a go."

Luke was nodding before she even finished. "I don't care how much experience you have in giving lessons: I'm ready, eager, and more than willing. Anything you are offering I will gladly take in."

Mara smirked wryly. "You haven't tasted of my methods yet."

Luke hesitated for only a heartbeat. "Nevertheless, I'm in."

Mara nodded. "Also, I know it's customary to give a gift to the guest of honor at a lifeday party, but I have nothing material to offer Shmi." She looked him in the eye. "However, I do have something else to give."

Luke waited patiently.

"I would like to teach Shmi self-defense," Mara offered. "I'm asking you because you're her father, and I don't want to overstep my bounds. But, since we're at war, it would be best if she knew how to protect herself."

Luke mulled that over for a long minute, and then nodded thoughtfully. "I agree, Shmi needs to be able to protect herself in the event that she gets separated from us or something else. I don't want her entirely defenseless."

Luke looked to his companion. "Do you think you could also teach her to use a min-dagger?"

Mara's mouth dropped open. "A dagger?"

"Han bought her a miniature dagger for self-defense, and though she's still young, I can't shake the feeling that she'll need it in the not-so-distant future." He looked to his hands. "I planned to give her the weapon at her party, but I can't really teach her with my leg and wrist like this. I want her to respect the weapon and learn to use it now, while she's still receptive."

It was Mara's turn to process, and Luke had the distinct impression she was fighting off unpleasant memories. His curiosity raised several more notches, but before he could ask Mara answered him.

"Alright, I'll do it."

Luke studied her, seeing something in those eyes… but then it was gone, and he let her have some space.

"Thank you Mara."

"Sure thing..." Mara murmured. She shook herself, glanced at her wrist chrono and grimaced. "We'd better get going or we'll be late for the party."

She stood and offered him a helping hand, which he took without qualms.

"Thanks."

As they walked to the pilots lounge, Luke felt as though a spring was back in his crutched step, and he knew it didn't come solely from having released his guilt. The time spent with Mara had been wonderful, and he felt refreshed, rejuvenated.

A small, almost private smile curved his lips, and Luke thanked the Force for the red head beside him.