NOTHING STAYS THE SAME
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
"So where did the Emperor hide all you clones?" Mara asked, her voice frigid.
Cara laughed. "Mara, Mara. You believed everything that the Emperor told you when you were young, and then you said you'd never allow yourself to be lied to again. But you are still living a lie."
"What lie?"
"You honestly believe that you are the original Mara Jade."
"What?"
"Isn't it rather obvious? I thought Tawnie said you were sharp," Cara said, patronizingly. "You're the clone."
Mara blinked in disbelief. "A clone? You're trying to tell me that I'm a clone?" Her green eyes narrowed, hiding her doubts. "Impossible. You lie." Her right hand rested on the still-holstered blaster. Luke touched her shoulder, but she shrugged his hand away.
"Did you really think you could have survived all those missions, Mara? Did you really think you were the only one?" Cara's posture mirrored Mara's stance. Luke saw both of them, mirror images of the same person—the dark Cara, and the Mara he loved.
"Think about it, Mara. All those gaps in your memory? All the times you escaped a situation you couldn't?" Cara leaned closer to the Trader. "You didn't escape, Mara. Five times, you died. And when this body died, it would be my turn."
"How?" Mara asked, angry with herself for believing this shit. The woman obviously suffered from an overactive imagination. She was the one and only Mara Jade.
"Yours wasn't the only mind he'd done this to. Bevel Lemelisk, does that name ring a bell?"
"That's who was in charge of designing the Death Star. Yes, I knew him." I killed him, too. The only time I ever used a Force whip.
"Every time Lemelisk failed the old man, no matter how small, he had Lemelisk executed. Piranha beetles, Force lightning, torture sessions. Eventually he lost imagination. Drowning, suffocation. Chained him to an ImpStar hull." Cara laughed. "And of course, your little Force whip session. Damn, wouldn't you think Bevel would eventually grow smart and commit suicide?"
"What about him?" Mara asked. She didn't see the humor in that situation. She could still remember the dying man's writhing body, and she could only see how the Emperor had manipulated everyone within his reach.
"It was the same with you, Mara. He would just erase what memory you had of your death, and simply moved your mind into a new body."
"That's impossible. I'd know. He left mental blocks, shielding the memories of my childhood, and after I removed those. I couldn't find anything else."
"Do you honestly believe the Emperor was that stupid?" she countered. "He left those memories for his own sick mind. He took the memories of your deaths away so that you would remain fearful of death. You see, one thing he never counted on was for Lemelisk to grow tolerant of pain, and to lose fear of death. He began to screw up more and more often. See, it's like disciplining an animal. You just have to wave the whip at first. The nerf keeps away, moves faster. Then you bring the whip down, and the creature jumps forward. Eventually he grows tolerant of the whip, and no longer cares. The Emperor made that mistake with Lemelisk, but he was more careful with his Hand."
"You know what's great about what you're saying? None of it can be proven." She could feel the headache she'd suppressed beat at the edges of her perception. "None of it. How long did it take you to think up that lie?"
Cara's slight smile disappeared. "This isn't a lie, Jade. This is the truth. I was next in line. I would have become the Emperor's Hand!" Her voice rose with her temper. "And what's more, I can prove it. Go ask him yourself, you arrogant—"
A strong wind lashed through the room, tearing the carpeting from the ground and the broken furniture and throwing it around like sand in a Tatooine storm. A table leg caught Cara and threw her across the room, slamming her into a wall. She crumpled to the ground and didn't stir. Mara staggered, grabbing onto the smooth wall, trying to find something to hold onto. The wind storm was over as quickly as it began.
Mara stood up, and Luke grabbed onto her arm.
What the hell? Mara asked him silently. She glanced around. She didn't know many who could bring on a Force storm like that. Wait a sec. Where's Tawnie?
She must have left when she started the damned storm, Luke answered. Where did she go?
I don't think that's the first thing on our mind, Skywalker, she responded. The other two clones had not been touched, and Mara recognized the two colors—red and purple—that bounced off the walls. Lightsabers. Why did it seem that everyone had lightsabers?
At least there's one good thing. Look at the one to the right; she doesn't know what she's doing, she pointed out to Luke. She's holding the hilt awkwardly.
Yeah, but the other one's somewhat skilled. He glanced around discretely and pulled the lightsaber from his belt. You take the one on the right, I'll take left.
"Corran? Hello, hey, are you still here?"
Corran pulled himself out of his thoughts and faced the smuggler chief. "Something's happening."
"Mara?"
"Yeah. I don't know what, but something's happened to her. There's this…distortion…in her presence."
"Like what kind of a 'distortion'? Is she okay?"
"I don't know."
"You've got to have some idea of what's going on!"
"I don't. The Force doesn't work that way. If she or Luke are in danger, then I'll know. Other than that, I can't actually tell anything."
"Sorry, sorry." Talon ran his fingers through his dark hair and leaned back. "It's frustrating. I came along so I could help. Instead Solo and I are burdens to the whole damned thing. Gods, I despise irony."
"I don't blame you. I never expected to baby-sit a guy twice my age."
"Hey, Junior, I am no where near twice your age. Do I come off as being that old?"
"Naw, not really. Okay, well, not all the time."
"Smug bastard. At least I don't have grey hair yet, old man."
"I do not have grey hair!" Corran sat back. "The dye just hasn't completely come out yet."
"Dye?"
"I am fairly noticeable, Talon. Mirax and I went on a vacation, and she felt that maybe if I dyed my hair some, then less people would recognize me."
Karrde nodded, not really believing him. "You lost a bet, didn't you?"
"I am never betting against Wes ever again."
"Hey, it could have been worse, right?"
Corran remained silent.
"It was worse, wasn't it?" Talon laughed. "Let me guess. Women's clothing?"
Corran's head shot up. "How did you—" He cut his response short. "Damn you," he finally said to Karrde. Talon didn't bother trying to keep a straight face, and laughed. The pilot glared at him for a few minutes, and then joined him. It was pretty funny. If it hadn't happened to him. Why was it, with all that he'd done, just thinking about looking in the mirror back at his reflection in a short red dress and blond hair still made him turn red? At least Mirax didn't get a holo of it, though he doubted his wife would ever stop teasing him about it.
Mara refused to step backwards when the clones walked forward. Mara ignited her lightsaber at almost the same time Luke did with a snap-hiss. She pulled her blue blade up, holding it in a defensive stance Luke had taught her. Until she'd trained with Luke, she'd mainly only known offensive positions. Luke's silver blade added its glow to the room. Mara slowly began to walk sideways from Luke. Although it usually helped to have a skilled partner at your back, it would make it easier for the clones with lightsabers. Besides, who actually knew what kind of training they'd had? And especially since the one following her didn't seem too sure of her own glowing blade.
She found it harder to concentrate past the buzzing in her mind reinforced by the distinctive low thrum vibrating off the walls. "So which one are you?" she asked the clone standing in front of her. "Did they bother to give you a name, or are you just Clone Number Three?" She felt Luke questioning her, and she sent back to him her reasoning: if the clone wasn't experienced as a fighter, if she got angry, maybe she'd be sloppy, and easy to eliminate.
"Arienne."
"So you do have a name. Took you long enough to answer. I wasn't sure whether they gave you a name or not."
"Mistress Calanast gave me my name a year ago."
"Is that how long you've been alive?" Mara asked. If the clone was in a talkative mood, then maybe she could get useful information from her. Arienne didn't answer. Instead she lunged forward with her lightsaber. Mara easily deflected the red blade, pushing it to the side. You want to play rough? I can still beat your ass. Staring into the same face as hers, she knew how Luke had felt, fighting his own clone on Wayland. It was just plain scary.
Luke knew almost immediately that the woman he was fighting would be a handful. If she had been fighting him on her own, he was certain it wouldn't be hard to "eliminate her," as Mara had said. But with the tie he felt to Tawnie…this fight would be challenging, nonetheless. He tried to snap the line attaching her to her mistress, but Tawnie stabbed into his mind, almost breaking his shields. He slashed downward, and the clone jumped back, the hilt held in both hands.
He hadn't thought that Tawnie was powerful enough to do this. She was using both her clones as puppets and still had enough strength to repel his own Force powers. He knew that he was not the strongest Force-user—Kyp, although still young, had more raw potential than Luke did—but he was still stronger than most. If Tawnie had been so powerful, than how could he miss her own strength? Her power hadn't overwhelmed him, like it should have. He'd known immediately that Kyp was strong, but he'd believed that Tawnie was weak.
Something in the back of his mind. What was it he was missing? Something important…
Mara waited patiently for her opportunity to arrive. The clone was a quick learner—was that an inherited trait or engineered?—but Mara was better. She had picked up on Luke's questions, and his knowledge that Tawnie was using the clones as puppets. The clone brought her blade around in a slash. Mara blocked the saber and shoved it down to the ground, cutting into the carpeted floor. With the blade momentarily out of the way, Mara hooked her foot behind the clone's legs and dumped the woman on the ground. Arienne began to roll back onto her feet, but Mara caught her on the blue blade, the thick stench of seared flesh in the air. The clone didn't even cry out in pain or anger as her body collapsed boneless on the ground. The hilt of her lightsaber clattered on a broken tabletop and fell onto the floor, the blade extinguished.
Out of habit, Mara glanced around, double-checking the location of everyone in the room. She gripped her lightsaber, ready to jump in and help Luke when she heard a familiar snap-hiss behind her. Pivoting on her left foot, she barely managed to block the magenta blade from bisecting her.
