Mara entered the hall outside the throne room of the Imperial Palace a good fifteen minutes before the appointed time for her latest briefing with the Emperor. She could admit to herself that the last few missions she'd been sent on had been mildly irritating—not so much the missions themselves, as the fact that they took her away from Luke. But with Luke leaving for his own tour of duty in only a week, thus leaving her little to miss on Coruscant, she felt much more cheerful about this assignment, whatever it turned out to be.

That cheerfulness lasted until she turned the final corner and found herself face to face with Darth Vader, already waiting outside the throne room.

"Lord Vader," Mara said, wary, as she stopped a respectful distance away.

That masked face turned toward her. "Emperor's Hand," Vader replied, then turned dismissively forward again.

Mara gritted her teeth, then consciously relaxed. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing any reaction from her, no matter how much she disliked him. A dislike, she knew, that he returned in full. She and Vader had never gotten along well. He thought her little more than a distraction, a plaything for the Emperor, and while he paid her the courtesies she was due, it was plainly lip service and nothing more. His casual contempt had always rankled—and though she would die rather than let on, Vader also inspired an undercurrent of fear in her. It was hard not to be unnerved by a black-armored and -masked giant whose strength in the Force was legendary, and who had a reputation for murdering underlings almost faster than they could be replaced. Mara had faith in her own abilities and in the Emperor's regard for her, but she also knew that she would never be able to take Vader in a fair fight if it ever came to that, and she had occasionally wondered uneasily if Vader might someday decide it was worth braving the Emperor's displeasure to rid himself of a potential rival he clearly thought well beneath him. At any rate, she much preferred to avoid him whenever possible.

Mas Amedda, the Emperor's Grand Vizier, opened the doors of the throne room. Passing over Mara with a glance, he turned toward Vader. "Lord Vader," he said. "The Emperor awaits your presence."

Vader stalked forward, his cape sweeping behind him, and Amedda closed the doors again without so much as another look in Mara's direction. She pressed her lips tightly together, deeply irritated. Amedda knew her true role as well as Vader did, and even Vader at least acknowledged her presence. The power plays and backstabbing of the Inner Court were a constant source of frustration to her. Weren't they all serving the Emperor for the greater good? There was no need for this never-ending paranoia among those the Emperor trusted most. And while she might be younger than those of the old guard like Vader and Amedda, she had more than earned her position.

Additionally, she thought darkly, she could put an end to Amedda as easily as Vader could. Vader might prefer Force-choking people, sadist that he was, but she knew at least a dozen quick ways to kill in any given situation. You'd think Amedda would be polite out of self-preservation, if nothing else.

Mara waited the fifteen minutes until her appointment, then waited another fifteen minutes beyond that, with rising curiosity as well as impatience. What could be so important that the Emperor saw fit to give Vader such a lengthy briefing when he knew she was waiting? Not, of course, that the Emperor would do so without cause—which only piqued her curiosity more.

Eventually the throne room doors swung open again, and Vader strode out, with—Tarkin by his side? They passed her as though she wasn't there, and Mara frowned at their backs as they went back down the hallway. What was the cadaverous Grand Moff doing here? She knew that Tarkin was favored by the Emperor, and it was no surprise that he would be granted a personal audience or briefing, but with Vader? And for so long?

Amedda appeared again. "Emperor's Hand," he said with a tilt of his head. "The Emperor awaits your presence."

Concentrate. To face the Emperor required undivided attention. There would be time to find out what Vader and Tarkin might be doing later. And she would do so, she promised herself. For the Emperor to set those two together could only mean something serious, and Mara would discover what it was.

But for now, her own next mission awaited. Mara walked forward into the throne room to greet her master.

Luke was playing sabacc when his comlink chirped. He reached for it almost absentmindedly, then looked more closely as he recognized the incoming code. He accepted the text-only message; as usual, it contained only a location and time. The time was half an hour from now, which could only mean that Mara was about to leave on another mission very soon and wanted to check in first. He tapped in an acknowledgment, and looked regretfully at his cards.

"I fold," he said, pushing his chair back with a sigh. "Gotta go, guys."

The others groaned. "Not again," Hobbie said.

"See your girlfriend on your own time, Luke," Soren muttered.

"This is my own time," Luke retorted. "And considering I already put twenty in the pot, I don't see why you're complaining."

"Leave him alone," Tycho said. "You're just jealous you don't have someone to go see instead of hanging around here with us."

Luke grinned at him. He'd never told any of them who he occasionally slipped off to see, but Tycho had fallen naturally into wingman position and covered for him without being asked or ever making a fuss about it. Of course, most of their squadron was single, while Tycho had a fiancée back on Alderaan; he understood what it was to have little time with someone you cared for.

"Thanks, Tych," Luke said. "See you later."

Traffic was light today, and he managed to reach the place Mara had specified a little before the assigned time. Mara was already seated lengthwise on a bench off to the side of the central clearing between rows of exclusive shops, her legs stretched across the full bench, preventing anyone from joining her, while she studied a datapad. Luke could sense her awareness in the Force, and the burst of recognition that meant she'd noticed his arrival. She looked up with a smile as he came alongside her.

"Fancy meeting you here," Luke said.

"Fancy that," Mara echoed, rolling her eyes. "Come on, there's a quieter place a couple blocks down." She swung her legs off the bench and stood, tucking the datapad back into her bag as she walked.

They wove through the crowds until they came upon the almost hidden beginning of an alleyway. Mara ducked into it and Luke followed. They were almost half a block in before she stopped, stepping into the indentation of a double-sized doorway. "This business closed down last week," she said. "No one will open this door, and hardly anyone comes down these back alleys anyway." She rested her hands against his chest and reached up for a kiss as he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her close. "I missed you."

"You saw me five days ago," Luke said with a grin.

"That's definitely too long apart."

"This from the woman who thought nothing of being away for almost a month without letting me know she was still alive."

"Shut up," Mara said with her own grin, thumping his chest. "Did they tell you what ship you're assigned to yet?"

"No," Luke said. "But apparently the whole operation we're assigned to is under the command of Grand Moff Tarkin."

"Tarkin?" Mara's surprise was like a lightning flash in his senses.

Luke frowned. "Yes. Is that bad?"

She pulled back, looking at him intently. "I don't know. But I saw him come out of the Emperor's throne room just a few hours ago, and he was with Vader."

"Huh."

"That's all you have to say? 'Huh?'"

"You're more likely to understand what that means than I am," Luke pointed out, shrugging. "Though it's definitely beginning to sound like we're assigned to that secret project you mentioned."

Mara leaned back against her side of the doorway. "You must be. I usually keep a good eye on where Vader's assigned, and I definitely don't remember him working with Tarkin before. That's got to mean something big."

"Why do you watch where Vader is?"

"To avoid him whenever possible," she said rather grimly.

Luke felt a rueful smile twitch across his face. "Don't like Vader, huh?"

"Does anyone like Vader?" Mara's expression was deeply thoughtful. "I don't like this, Luke. If they're working together and you're under Tarkin's command, you might run into Vader."

"On the other hand," Luke replied, "if it's a big enough operation that the Emperor wants both of them on it, I may never get anywhere near either of them."

"I hope not," she said, frowning. "Keep your shields up anyway, and avoid him if you can. I was going to try to figure out what they were assigned to, but with you leaving next week, I don't think I'll have time. Vader and Tarkin are probably already headed to wherever you'll wind up. And I have to leave tonight, and won't be back before you go."

Luke sighed before he could stop himself, and Mara looked at him sharply. "Don't start, Luke. It's not even that sort of mission. At least, not directly. It's just some corrupt judge; I need to go check out the evidence against him."

"And if the evidence is what the Emperor thinks it is?" Luke asked. This was dangerous territory; she was always touchy about his disapproval of her missions. He should just let it go—but he thought again of Mara as a little girl, stolen and twisted into a killer, and the anger rose, unbidden.

Mara looked at him sideways, surely catching his emotions. "You know what happens then."

"Yes," he said. "I do."

Mara's arms were wrapped around herself now, and he doubted she had any idea how vulnerable it made her look. The thought flashed through his mind that he should feel guilty for putting her on the defensive like this, but mostly he just wanted to shake her. She was better than this; she deserved better than this. What had to change for her to see that?

She glared at him defiantly. "I know you don't like what I do, but it's still my job, Luke. I literally trained my whole life for this, you know that. And I have my orders."

"I didn't say anything." He heard the edge in his own voice, an edge that only made Mara glare harder.

"You didn't have to."

"I'm a soldier, too, Mara, or did you forget that? I get the whole 'following orders' obligation. That doesn't mean that I have to like every mission either of us is given, and it doesn't mean that I don't worry when you go into the field."

"I've been going into the field as long as you have, if not longer," she said testily. "I can take care of myself. Don't patronize me."

"I know you can take care of yourself," he snapped. "Worry doesn't mean I doubt you. It means I care about you. You really need some more human interaction, so you can catch these nuances."

Her eyes flashed with anger. "And you need to lay off. Fighter pilots kill sometimes, too—or do you plan on just letting the next Rebel ship on your tail take you out so you can hang on to some imaginary moral high ground?"

"There's a difference between combat and assassination."

"Yes," Mara said coldly. "There's a lot less collateral damage with assassination."

Luke glared at her. "Efficient and cold-blooded, that's you, all right."

"You don't like it? You don't have to contact me again when you get back. I never asked you to start judging—"

"That's rich, coming from you. All you do is judge others, but no one can judge you—is that how it works?"

For a long moment they just glared at each other, then Mara turned away sharply without another word. Luke caught her hand before she took more than a step, and held it fast. "Mara, don't. I'm sorry." She didn't look at him, but she didn't pull away, either, and he tugged her hand lightly. "Come on, knock it off. You know there's always a chance one of us really might not come back. We don't leave it like this."

She stood very still, eyes averted, but she was blinking rapidly now. Luke sighed and pulled her, unresisting, into his arms and held her closely. Slowly, she leaned against him and put her arms around his waist. He rested his cheek on the top of her head, feeling her slightly hitched breaths. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things."

"I'm sorry, too," she whispered, her voice muffled against his shoulder. "Please don't let a Rebel ship take you out."

"I'm not going to," he murmured into her hair. "Be careful, okay? Because I love you, and I can't help worrying about you going into danger, no matter how capable you are."

"Do you really think I'm cold-blooded?"

Mara sounded suspiciously like she was sniffing back actual tears, and Luke stroked her hair and closed his eyes against the guilt that washed over him. "No," he said, holding her tighter. "Of course I don't. I was angry, I didn't mean it. I shouldn't have said it."

Another sniff, then she stood a little straighter in his arms, pulling back enough to swipe quickly at her eyes. "You're the first person I ever really didn't want to think something like that about me."

Luke cradled her face in his hands and kissed her forehead, then leaned his own forehead against hers. "I absolutely do not think you're cold-blooded. That's why these missions upset me, because you're not that sort of person."

Mara sighed. "Maybe. Maybe not. I still have to do what I'm ordered to do."

"I know," Luke said. "Just be careful."

She slid her arms around his neck and kissed him. "You too. I love you."

"I love you, too. I'll contact you as soon as I get back."

Mara managed a tentative smile. "Promise?"

He leaned in for another kiss. "Promise."

She held him for a moment, letting the kiss linger, then stepped back reluctantly. "We should go. I need to leave in a few hours, and I'm not totally ready. It was risky to fit this in, but I didn't want to leave without telling you."

"I'm glad you managed it," Luke told her, taking her hand and heading back the way they came.

"You didn't have to slip away from actual duties, did you?" Mara asked.

"No," Luke said. "I'm not on duty today. I only walked away from a sabacc game." He glanced over at her as they walked, raising his eyebrows. "Though I was winning, and I folded for your sake."

Mara smiled—a real smile, this time. "True devotion on your part. I'm flattered."

They reached the beginning of the alleyway, and paused just before it. Mara squeezed his hand, then said, "You take starboard, I'll take port."

"Copy that," Luke replied. Be careful.

Her rueful half-smile told him she'd received the thought clearly. I love you.

He sent the warmth of that thought back to her, the mental equivalent of a blown kiss, and her eyes shone softly at him.

Then she was out of the alleyway, walking briskly away, head held high. Luke watched her for a moment, then went the other direction, for once unsure whether he should be more concerned about her mission or his own.