Disclaimer: Either George Lucas or Timothy Zahn owns the characters used in this story. Chapter Four title c/o Duncan Sheik. No infringement intended in either case.
And Mara Makes Three
Chapter Four: Nothing Special
Mara entered the room quietly, matching her pace to the Corellian senator's. Standing as close as she was to the older man, the guards assumed she was one of his lackeys and did not spare her a second glance. The blonde wig had apparently been sufficient disguise.
The party was well under way. Almost every first-seat senator stood or sat in the large ballroom, quietly making deals or genuinely enjoying themselves. No one noticed the blonde young woman who wove through the crowd.
One of the waiters eyed Mara appraisingly, a small smile flickering onto his lips. She knew she had developed much faster than most human females; her curves suggested she was sixteen, perhaps older. But underneath the blonde wig was still a thirteen-year-old girl who was just a little afraid to be on such an important mission.
Finally, she spotted him. The senator from Alderaan had impossibly black hair for a man his age. Bail Organa smiled pleasantly, genuinely at everyone he talked to, laughing occasionally at the jokes he was told. The Emperor had told her to go talk to the senator, and so Mara took a deep breath and walked towards him.
"Senator Organa? Would you like another drink?" she asked, her voice lower than one might have expected. She batted her eyelashes at him and his smile grew a bit.
"No thank you, miss." He paused, pulling a single credit chip out of his pocket. "But you remind me very much of my daughter, although she's a few years younger than you."
She pocketed the chip and, thanking the generous man profusely, slowly backed away. She looked around and then ducked out onto the balcony, facing east. Reaching out with her Force-senses, she began to listen for the senator's voice and tried to determine what he was up to.
"You can't be serious, Bail," a woman said, her tone hushed, a bit scared. "Palpatine was perfectly within his limits; he still is."
"Dooku has been dead for years; no one has attacked the Republic since. Why must he still hold all the power? Why do we still need an army?" Bail's voice almost rose above the whisper he'd been using. It hurt Mara's ears.
"Dangerous people think like you, Bail," the woman answered. "And these people have found ships and guns; we need protections from these rebels."
Bail didn't answer and then Mara saw him walking away. Slipping back into the ballroom, she walked briskly, but dignified, hoping to reach the Emperor with her news as quickly as possible.
"Shall we kill him now?" she asked, rid of her blonde wig. Now she stood with her hands clasped at the base of her spine, feet shoulder-width apart and eyes forward. Her true, red hair, had been swept up into a bun underneath the wig and she had yet to release it.
Palpatine shook his head. "No, my young apprentice, we will wait. If Senator Organa is as displeased as he sounds, soon he will contact those who wish to overthrow me. Then we will have more of the traitors' names." He let his face crack into an attempted smile. "Do you understand?"
She nodded. "Yes, my master."
****
The part of him that had been Anakin Skywalker swelled up for a moment, issuing forth a burst of paternal pride. Mara's talent with a lightsabre, and in hand-to-hand combat, improved with every lesson. She connected with the Force more easily than he could remember doing at her age. She seemed brilliant.
"You make your parents proud," he offered her when she bowed after finishing her last form. The words had slipped out; for an instant, he hadn't believed he'd actually spoken them. But when her green eyes came up, and that red eyebrow raised, he knew the words had been uttered.
"You and Emperor Palpatine are all the parents I know," she stated, dipping her head again. "I was told not to ask about my real parents," she reminded him. She could not help that the bitterness had slipped into her speech. And he admitted that she had a right to feel bitter.
Again, Anakin Skywalker flared up within him. He saw Mara as a mini-version of Keturah, and wondered what part of him was inside her. He wondered if he had merely been a catalyst for Mara's creation.
Darth Vader regained control. This young woman, really just a girl, was nothing more to him than an apprentice. Like he had once been Obi-Wan's apprentice, before the Jedi Knight had stolen everything from him. Like he would forever be Emperor Palpatine's apprentice.
"I wish to help defeat the rebels," Mara said, interrupting his sojourn into self-realization. "Let me take a ship, a squadron…"
If he could have, Vader would have laughed. Instead, the Sith Lord waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal. "There will be a time for your desire and vengeance, young Jade; let the Emperor and I decide when that time is."
He paused, a brief flash of the future entering his mind. She had grown tall, beautiful and deadly. She stood next to a man with cropped blonde hair and willing blue eyes. A lightsabre passed from his hand to hers. Vader realized the lightsabre was Anakin Skywalker's.
Vader shook his head. "The Jedi virtue of patience comes to mind, Mara; wait until you can reap your true rewards."
