CHAPTER EIGHT
Han awoke knowing he was alone on the cot even before he opened his eyes. When he did, he saw Leia pacing back and forth in the middle of the small durafabric tent, nervously chewing on the end of a fistful of her long brown hair. "Princess?"
She continued to pace.
"Princess?" he said a little bit louder this time.
Still she paced.
It was possible she hadn't heard him. He raised his voice. "Leia?"
She stopped in place and spun to face him. "Huh? What?" She blinked a few times. "I'm sorry. Did you say something?"
"Great," Han groaned when he saw the anxious look in her eyes. "Buyer's remorse. This always happens to me."
"What are you talking about?"
He laughed. "Like you don't know. You don't have to hide what's coming next." He blew out a frustrated sigh. "It was a mistake. You're sorry. You never meant to hurt me. Yeah, yeah."
"Han, stop it!" she snapped. She quickly walked the four paces over to the cot and sat down on its edge. "That's not it at all."
"Really?"
"Yes, really," she insisted. She reached out and caressed the fading bruises on his cheek. "It's not about you."
"Okay," he sighed. He didn't think she was lying, and the tenderness of her touch and affectionate gaze in her eyes definitely didn't seem regretful about their night together. "Leia?"
"Yes?"
He reached up and held her hand in his. "I lo…"
"No!" she barked, leaping to her feet again and backing away from him. "Don't say it. Don't you dare say it."
"What?" He couldn't figure her out at all right now. "What?"
"I know what you were going to say," she said sharply. "And don't. I don't care if right now you even think it's true. Just don't."
He didn't think it was true; he knew it was true. He also knew she was in no mood to argue, so he raised his hands defensively. "Okay, Your Worshipfulness. You win."
She began to pace and chew on her hair again.
If she wasn't upset about him, then it had to be something else. Something so disturbing she was willing to stop him from saying aloud what he knew full well they both had thought and felt with staggering intensity last night. And he had no idea what it could possibly be. But he knew one thing for certain – he loved her, and he would do anything to help her. So he steeled himself for a backlash.
"Tell me what's going on," Han demanded with a sternness that left no room at all for argument.
Leia stared at him, taken aback by his tone. But instead of lashing out at him, her face fell and her eyes welled up. "It's Luke. Something's wrong. I can feel it."
"How?" he asked quietly. "I thought you weren't strong in the Force."
"I'm not," she said as she began to pace again. "Not like a Jedi. But he's my twin, Han. I can always tell when he's in pain, no matter how far away he is. Or when he's really happy. Anything really powerful like that. I can always tell."
"And this morning…" His voice trailed off.
"I don't know," she said, wiping her eyes to keep from crying. "I can't explain it. I just know something's wrong. Something's very, very wrong."
Han rose and walked over to her. "I'm sorry," he whispered as he kissed her neck and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. "I'm really sorry."
"Thanks," she replied sadly, pressing her body into him and covering his hands with hers. She leaned her head backward and rested it on his shoulder. "I need to go to the Falcon," she whispered back. "I need to contact Coruscant right away. I need to find out what I can. I don't have a choice."
Han squeezed her tightly and kissed her neck again. "I'll go with you."
---
Padmé paced at the window of the small conference room in her office suite. The first session of the Senate after the Vyhrragian devastation of Alderaan was scheduled to begin shortly. It had been only a few days since Trellem's assassination and Millius' election as Chancellor, and now the crisis had escalated even further. Despite her urging Millius had departed Coruscant for his homeworld to make a political statement to the Republic and the enemy. Senator Firren of Sullust, the newly designated chair of the Rules Committee and a close ally of Millius, would preside over the session in his absence.
It would be an historic session indeed. An hour ago the leadership council of the defense faction had voted unanimously to move a Declaration of War as the first order of business. It would be the first such motion in the Senate in over four hundred years.
From the group seated at the table behind her, Padmé heard an anxious voice.
"What's going to happen now, Mom?" asked Nalé Bellion.
"Well, first Chairman Firren will recognize one of us to make the motion," explained Sabé calmly. "Then there will be a debate. When it ends, there will be a vote on the motion, and if it carries then it means there will officially be a state of war between the Republic and Argis' government."
"And what's that mean?" The girl's eyes were filled with apprehension. "How does that change things?"
Sabé took a deep breath and sighed. "It doesn't change very much in the Senate. Appropriations still have to be voted on to pay for the war. Trade embargoes or conscription of planetary militias also need a vote. New recruitment efforts or additional requisitions for the Army and Navy do too. Really the only significant change is an operational one for the military. Without a declaration of war, the Senate has to approve all major deployments and engagements, like we have been doing so far. But now Millius will be able to give orders more quickly and efficiently to let the commanders do what they think is best to defeat Argis as quickly as possible, and they won't have to wait for us to act."
"Okay," Nalé said softly, but she didn't seem convinced.
"Your mother's right to a certain extent," Bail Organa said gently from across the table. "Here on Coruscant we won't see much difference. But many citizens of the Republic have the same reaction you do, Nalé. Declaring war is a very big deal because of the message it sends. The entire Republic has the same enemy, and we will be fighting long and hard against them. There are always little conflicts here and there in the Republic, and the Army and Navy or the Jedi are sent in to settle them, and usually it is over quickly before too many people are killed. But this is very different. Argis already has killed many millions of innocent civilians, and now many thousands of our troops are going to be on the front lines doing battle with the Vyhrragians. This is going to be the first major war the Republic has fought in several centuries. It's understandable to be worried about what will happen. I am too."
Sabé shook her head sadly. "Yes, Bail, you're absolutely right. I'm so caught up in the Senate's business, I sometimes forget about the big picture." She looked closely at her daughter. "We're all worried about the war, sweetheart. It's a terrible thing that the Republic has to go to war."
"I know," Nalé whispered as her eyes welled up. "Mostly I'm just really scared for Bryon."
"We all are," Padmé whispered too. Unconsciously she reached up her hand to clutch the faded japoor snippet pendant hanging from a thin chain at the base of her throat. "We all are."
The heavy pause was broken when Representative Tickis, the young Gungan, spoke up quietly. "A state of war also permits the use of Jedi in military operations, doesn't it?"
"Yes, it does," Padmé answered from where she still stood by the window. She knew every detail of every regulation relating to the authorization of Jedi missions. "Ordinarily Jedi may be sent only for peacekeeping duties and the Senate must specifically approve any participation in hostilities on behalf of the Republic. One of the Chancellor's war powers is the authority to request the Jedi Council to deploy Jedi to command or serve alongside military units." She paused to clear her throat. "And I am certain Mill will do that."
"Padmé, mesa wondering something," said Jar Jar. "This declaration, what is there about the Crusaders of Justice? Will the Jedi go after them too?"
"I'm not sure," Padmé frowned. "I don't remember."
Sabé glanced down at her datapad and retrieved the text of the motion. "Yes, Jar Jar," she replied after a moment. "There is a clause in here about the Crusaders. The Chancellor will be able to use the Jedi against them."
"Good," Jar Jar nodded. "Mesa relieved."
"As am I," Bail Organa agreed. "I am convinced the Crusaders… Well, the Sith, are playing a greater role in Argis' plans than many in the Senate are willing to admit. Even some in your faction have not accepted it yet."
"I know," Padmé grumbled. "But I'm sure this language will not be struck from the text. If anyone even notices it there." Then she looked to the far end of the table to Jenny. "Still no word yet?"
"No, Padmé," her Chief of Staff apologized. "Not yet."
"I wonder what's taking so long?"
"This is quite a prize, you know," Sabé reminded her. "The Senator who introduces the motion will be shown on the Holonet over and over again. It's of great benefit for reelection. And for being remembered in history. Those are things many of our colleagues value greatly."
"You're right, of course," Padmé sighed. "I'm just tired of waiting."
Jenny laughed. "Ask and you shall receive. They're hailing you." When Padmé nodded, Jenny tapped the button to activate the intercom system in the middle of the table.
"Skywalker and Bellion here," Padmé said with a raised voice to the open microphone.
"Padmé, it's Rigginall Firren," the deep male voice responded. "I'll spare you the details."
"Good," she laughed. "If I had wanted them, I wouldn't have let you all negotiate this without me."
"I thought so, but I wanted to be sure," he chuckled too. "Here's the agreement. Corellia will move the motion. Dathomir will second. Bothawui and Duros will also support. When we reach debate, it will be Padmé, then Kashyyyk, Ansion, and Muunilinst, and then Naboo. I'm sorry you come last, Sabé, but as you're only Acting Senator we felt it was best for appearance's sake."
"I agree completely, Rigginall, I truly do," Sabé said firmly. "No offense taken."
"You are a good woman and a superb colleague, Senator Bellion," the disembodied voice said. "We are all very grateful for your understanding."
Padmé strode to the edge of the table and leaned in toward the microphone. "How are the numbers?"
"Excellent. The motion will carry by at least five hundred. Maybe more."
"Exactly what I wanted to hear, my friend. I gather we had best be on our way to the chamber, then?"
"As soon as you can, yes," he answered. "I'm going to issue the call to assemble in about ten minutes."
"Very well, Rigginall. May the Force be with you up there at the podium."
"Thank you, Padmé," he said humbly. "And also with you."
Jenny tapped off the feed and six seated individuals rose from their chairs. "Padmé, do you need me to help you with your hair?"
"No," Padmé shook her head as she ran her fingers through the unbound tresses of long brown hair that hung loose around her shoulders. "Today's motion speaks for itself. Anything elaborate will only detract from the issues."
Jenny nodded and headed out toward the outer office to alert the staff that the group was about to depart to the Senate chamber.
"Jenny will be with me, and Representative Tickis and Nalé will join Sabé in the Naboo pod," Padmé said to Jar Jar and Bail Organa. "Would either of you like to join me in mine?"
"I appreciate your offer," Bail Organa smiled, "but I've already agreed to join some dear friends from my old staff in the gallery."
"Mesa come along, then," Jar Jar said exuberantly. "Mesa be honored."
"Very good," Padmé nodded. "No reason to wait. Let's go."
A few minutes later Padmé stopped in the open doorway to her pod, smoothed out the front of her elegant blue gown, and took a deep breath. For once it was a relief to enter the chamber with the desired outcome preordained. As much as she dreaded the coming war, she knew Argis and the Sith had given the Republic no alternative. She believed every word she had spoken to the Senate when supporting Millius' candidacy, and now the necessity of all-out war against the Vyhrragians was even greater. After far too long a delay, the Republic finally would be heading down the road to victory.
She straightened her shoulders, took another deep breath, and strode confidently into the pod with Jenny and Jar Jar following behind her.
---
"I'll be there in a second, Chewie," Han hollered down an open mechanical compartment in the Falcon's main hold. "Keeping working on that stabilizer."
Quickly he walked through the freighter's cramped passageways to the cockpit, where Leia had gone to see what she could find out about her twin brother. He poked his head through the open doorway to see her sitting in the pilot's chair, clutching her arms over her chest and rocking back and forth. "Princess?"
"I was able to reach my mother," she said quietly, nodding toward the co-pilot's seat.
He sat down across from her. "And?"
"She doesn't know anything about Luke. He's on Tatooine, apparently. He and Mara were sent there after Corellia." She took a deep breath and continued. "My father would probably know more, but he went on a mission too so I can't contact him."
Han raised his eyebrows. "Your father is on a mission? Isn't that…"
"Yes," she nodded weakly. "It must be something really dangerous for him to go without Mara."
"Yeah."
"There's something else," she sighed. "The Vyhrragians got a small fleet into the Core. They attacked Alderaan. An orbital bombardment. It's still unclear how many were killed, but it's in the millions."
"The millions?" Han's heart sank. That kind of loss of life was incomprehensible. And in the back of his mind he felt guilty – he should be out there with the Navy, fighting to defeat the enemy. Not that he regretted a single moment he had been able to spend with Leia. But the Navy was his career, and in this of all times he ought to be playing his part. And apparently the morons in Fleet Command weren't doing very well without him. "How could that happen? How come we didn't detect that fleet? I don't get it!"
"I wish I knew, Han," she whispered. "I wish I knew." Leia reached out and took his hands. "I'm expecting a transmission from the Chancellor. Apparently he wanted to speak with me about how to proceed from here."
"Okay," he agreed. "I'll just go and…"
At that moment the holographic transmitter buzzed. Leia tapped the button and a small blue image of the Supreme Chancellor wavered into view above the side console. "Bail, I'm so sorry to hear about the attack. You have my deepest sympathies," Leia said calmly.
Han was amazed at how quickly she had regained her composure. She really was a remarkable woman. He leaned back in Chewie's over-sized chair to be sure he would be out of view for the outgoing transmission.
"Thank you, Leia. It means a great deal to me," Millius smiled sadly. "Your mother told me you contacted her, and she passed along your coordinates."
"Yes, she told me she would."
"Leia, I need you to end your mission and return to Coruscant. We will need to organize an immediate response to this brutal crime against civilization. Your participation is imperative."
Leia shook her head. "I know you value my opinion, Bail, but my investigation here is not concluded. I will need at least a few more days to learn all that I…"
"I'm sure you feel that way, Leia. But I am not leaving this up to you. Consider this an Executive Order. Your mission is hereby terminated and you shall return to the capital forthwith."
Leia frowned, but she nodded. "Understood, Your Excellency." She smashed her palm to the console in frustration to terminate the transmission. "That settles that."
"I'm sorry," Han said softly as he reached over to massage her shoulders. "I guess we should go get the things from the camp, huh?"
---
The grim figure in Mandalorian armor checked the charge of his blaster rifle, then turned to the tall man standing next to him. "They'll be coming by momentarily," Boba Fett explained. "I need Solo alive. The rest are none of my concern."
"Sure thing, boss," One-Eye grinned deviously. He hefted his blaster rifle and patted its barrel. "We'll take care of that for ya this time, don't worry."
"You'd better," Fett snarled. "If Solo dies, so do you."
One-Eye gulped and nodded again. "Right."
---
As he dueled the young man with the blazing scarlet lightsaber, Obi-Wan reached the same conclusion he suspected Anakin had: that the Sith apprentice had been instructed to do nothing more than keep him from interfering with the showdown between Anakin and the Master.
Obi-Wan's turquoise blade effortlessly parried away a series of strikes from his opponent's laser sword. The young man was talented; of that he had no doubt. But he wasn't highly skilled either – certainly he was an inferior fencer to Luke or Mara, and he had shown nothing of the frightening precision demonstrated by the young blonde Sith whom Luke had slain on Xixus half a year ago. And Obi-Wan doubted the young man was holding back, or at least not very much.
Obi-Wan took a deep breath and launched a pattern of intricate strikes at the Sith Lord. The red blade snapped them all aside, but not easily. Whatever the apprentice's orders were about taking the offensive, no doubt he had been instructed to keep himself alive. So if his defenses were struggling against that comparatively sedate attack, then he was not much of a danger.
As he prepared for another offensive, Obi-Wan tried to form a strategy that might enable him to defeat the young man and go to assist Anakin.
---
Anakin dropped his mind deeply into the Force and took his weapon in both hands. He didn't even bother unlatching his billowing brown cloak as he charged the Sith Master with his shimmering turquoise laser sword whirling in front of him. Immediately he put her defenses to the most severe possible test, unleashing a blindingly fast barrage of swings and slices with his blade.
The evil champion with the face of his lost friend Cimma parried away his assault with ease. She spun away from him, set her feet, and held her ground as he came at her again.
Anakin struck high, then low, then high once more. A driving thrust nearly hit home, but she whirled away at the last instant. When he lunged forward to attack, she snapped his blade to the side and took the offensive.
He backtracked a few long strides as his humming weapon arced through the air without conscious thought. It took only seconds for him to use the momentum of her attacks to bring her blade out of position and grab control of their duel for himself again. The first strike of his counter-offensive was only inches from severing her leg when it clashed into her blade with an ear-splitting screech.
---
Darth Barbarus quickly took a deep breath as he fended off the last swing of Kenobi's assault. Fencing was not his strength, so he was pleased it had been Kenobi and not the Chosen One's son or apprentice who was the other Jedi present. Even the relatively simple task of ensuring a diversion would have been much more difficult against them.
He didn't perceive any gaps in the old man's defenses – but he didn't have to kill him. With a quick step to the side he set up a devious pattern of arcs that just might leave Kenobi out of position.
But the white-bearded Jedi Master anticipated the technique and parried it away without creating the vulnerability. Darth Barbarus tumbled into a smooth roll to evade the counter-attack, then sprang to his feet again and swung a strong blow toward Kenobi's neck.
He felt a jolt crack through his body as his red blade smashed into the Jedi's blue one. It felt like running face-first into a stone wall. For someone so old, Kenobi certainly had a lot of fight in him.
---
Darth Vengous pounded away Skywalker's latest offensive. He was indeed supremely skilled with the lightsaber, as she had known he would be. She was holding him in a deadlock for now, and believed she probably could for quite some time. The longer they fought, however, the less she stood to benefit. Although at some point she might make a mistake that he could exploit to kill her, the odds of him leaving her an opening were close to zero.
And besides, she didn't need to win. She only needed to escape with her life.
After two quick back-steps to avoid another charging barrage of strikes from the turquoise blade, she set her defenses again and changed her strategy. "Don't you see, Skywalker?" she sneered. "You will never defeat me, not even using your greatest talent. The power of the dark side is too great."
"Now it is you who assumes too much," he chuckled. "The lightsaber is but an extension of my power in the Force. It is not the limit of my abilities."
"You have given up so much as a Jedi," she said grimly. "Why hamper yourself with the shackles and chains of the Order? You have more strength in the Force than almost anyone who has ever lived. Why weaken yourself? Why give up that power? It is within you, Skywalker. All you must do is seize it."
"Do you really think," he laughed, "that I will be tempted by your words? That I am not aware of what I am capable of doing, should I choose to do it? If such idle seductions are the best you have to offer, the Sith have become sorely weak indeed."
"Someday you will need our power again, Skywalker," she vowed. "And when that time comes, you will use it. Mark my words – the darkness within you cannot be vanquished."
Skywalker did not say a word as he surged forward and swung a two-handed blow of incredible strength straight for her neck. Darth Vengous ducked backward to safety, then spun away across the enormous empty hangar bay.
---
Stepping aside to avoid another lunging strike from the young man, Obi-Wan noticed that during the course of the duel they had moved nearly halfway across the hangar bay toward its gaping opening to the spaceport beyond. Outside the last flickers of sunlight rose into the sky and the dark colors of night had begun to drape over the buildings and starships and bustling maintenance droids.
Obi-Wan perceived a small hole in the Sith's defenses and charged ahead immediately to exploit it. As soon as he did it closed, and now they were even closer to the open air.
---
The duel had lasted quite some time now and Anakin could see the tiredness beginning to appear on the Sith Master's face and in her technique. Even though he was tiring too he saw no evidence that she was capable of defeating him, at least as long as they fought with blades.
She must have determined the same thing, because a moment later she began to use the Force to supplement her attacks against him. Without breaking the movement of her blade to defend his attacks and launch offensives of her own, she snatched loose machinery with the Force and flung it at him at high speed.
He did not lessen his concentration on the duel one iota as he punched the incoming hunks of metal with the Force to deflect them aside. Loud crashing sounds echoed away into the high ceilings of the hangar bay as the equipment collided with the floor or walls.
Even with five or six objects hurtling toward him at once Anakin did not weaken. He continued to repel her lightsaber onslaught while not a single airborne threat came within a half-meter of his body.
When the last metal crate smashed to the ground, the Sith Master quickly spun apart from the duel and in several long strides took up a position several meters away, almost at the mouth of the hangar bay. "You will not defeat me, Skywalker. Not now; not ever. I have mastered the dark side of the Force, and your insignificant Jedi powers will never be sufficient to overcome them."
In an instant she released her right hand from her laser sword and flicked her palm toward him. The air erupted with the crackling heat of the blue Sith lightning. The sparking currents of energy screamed toward him with the raw power of diabolical hatred.
And yet to Anakin it seemed to come in slow motion. He shifted his blade into his left hand and raised his palm outward directly into the path of the malicious exercise of the Force. Even though his face, short gray hair, and Jedi robes were by now drenched in sweat, the flow of the light side of the Force through his body and spirit gave him all the strength he needed.
As the Sith lightning arrived Anakin concentrated on its flow and drew it all into his palm. He shaped the brilliant electricity into a rapidly rotating ball of pure energy. Once the last incoming sparks had been absorbed he pushed with his mind and projected the crackling arcs of lightning directly back at the Sith Master.
She whipped her scarlet blade in front of her and absorbed all of the dark energy into its shimmering edge.
Anakin grinned. "You still have much to learn."
Just then he heard the distinctive rumbling roar of a starship engine and looked up into the sky outside the hangar bay. To the side he sensed Obi-Wan's identical reaction. Swooping into view was a sleek black starship about fifty meters long, a shining dagger of obsidian with no visible armament. Anakin thought it looked like a heavily modified SoroSuub star yacht. The cockpit was illuminated – and empty. As it slowed into a hover midway up the hangar bay's opening, a boarding ramp lowered from the belly of the craft.
Simultaneously the Sith Master and her young apprentice launched themselves into soaring backflips with the Force. Before Anakin or Obi-Wan could react they had landed on the edge of the ramp and rushed inside the vessel. With a mighty growl the engines spewed fire and the ship sped away into the dark nighttime sky.
Anakin stood in place as Obi-Wan paced over to him. "I don't know how she summoned it," he sighed when his old friend arrived. "I just don't know."
"Nor do I," Obi-Wan said quietly. "And I do not believe I saw the apprentice signal for it either."
"Something to keep in mind for next time," Anakin frowned.
"Indeed."
"But something else troubles me even more."
Obi-Wan put a hand on Anakin's shoulder. "What's that?"
"Why was she here?" Anakin took a deep breath to keep his legs from trembling beneath him. "Why was she on Naboo? What could she… why would she… what could they be planning…"
Obi-Wan nodded understandingly. "I don't know, Anakin. I don't know if Naboo is threatened."
Anakin shook his head and took another deep breath. "I will need to meditate on everything we have learned here, everything that happened in the duel, before I can even hope to discover that."
"That's true," Obi-Wan agreed calmly. For a long moment they both stared out into the dark night, drawing on each other's presence to clear their minds and calm their spirits from the exhausting intensity of the fierce combat in which they had just participated. When they were at peace again, Obi-Wan spoke. "What do you want to do now?"
"Eat," Anakin laughed. "I want to eat. And I know just the place."
---
The group of six walked quickly along the dirt path of Refugee Camp Two. With one trip to the Falcon completed, they were returning with the last of their gear before the departure. Chewie, Lando, and Han each carried a metal crate, while Leia and Sarré tried to remain on guard for any trouble. With their time at the camp at an end Sarré had insisted on bringing two blaster pistols along, which she had tucked in the back of her belt and hidden beneath the shirt of her azure flight suit.
While they walked, Threepio continued to yammer on about the mission. "I must say, for a refugee facility the conditions are remarkably pleasant," he said to no one in particular. "Ordinarily is quite easy for dirt and grime to interfere with my circuits, but I have encountered no such problem here. I wonder how they have managed…"
Chewie looked over at Lando and growled. "Yeah, no kidding," he laughed. "But I don't think it's physically possible for a droid to be strangled."
Chewie wroofed another idea. "Ripping his arms off? Sure, I'd be in favor of that."
The Wookiee grumbled and shrugged. "I suppose that's true," Lando frowned. "I doubt Senator Organa would appreciate us destroying her droid."
---
"There they are! Go, go, go," One-Eye shouted to his four companions. "I want the reward this bounty hunter is promising, so let's not botch it this time, guys."
With a soaring war cry the five men burst around a tent and opened fire.
---
Han heard the holler and the first shots and glanced back to see the unidentifiable charging enemies about fifty meters behind them. "Not again!"
Leia looked at him sharply. "Again? This happens to you frequently?"
"Very funny, Princess."
Sarré already had whipped out the blaster pistols and was returning fire with the one in her right hand. "Save the bickering for the bedroom. Who wants the other pistol?"
"Chewie, take this!" ordered Han, heaving his crate atop the one already in the Wookiee's massive arms. "Alright, give it here."
Without hesitation Sarré tossed him the extra weapon. "Leia, run!" she snapped. "Now!"
Leia looked like she was considering arguing, but then a blaster bolt sailed past her head. She spun around and chased after Chewie and Lando, who already had begun to sprint as quickly as they could with their loads.
Han gave her a moment's head start before he began to run after them, firing over his shoulder as he went. At his side Sarré was doing the same. "Wonder how big a bribe they had to pay to get those rifles in here?"
"How much did we pay to sneak in these pistols?" Leia's blonde friend laughed.
"Fair point." Han ducked to avoid an incoming shot. Bolts were striking precariously close to his feet, and he had seen several get very near to his three friends further ahead. And the enemies were closing distance rapidly. "At least their aim isn't very good," he chuckled.
Sarré smirked. "I haven't seen you do any better."
"I'm beginning to see why you and Leia get along so great!" Without breaking stride he hit one of their pursuers squarely in the chest.
Her next shot dropped another, almost as if she was daring him to match her accuracy. "That we do," she winked.
As blaster bolts slammed into the dirt around them, the Falcon finally came into sight. "Just a bit longer," he said with relief. Ahead of him the trio burst up the boarding ramp. "Go," he said to Sarré. "I'll hold them off from here."
The handmaiden agreed with a nod and scampered up the ramp too. A few paces from its base Han sent a flurry of shots at the three remaining opponents, who were by now only about twenty meters away. When he realized one of them was One-Eye, he concentrated his fire on his earlier attacker.
The freighter's engines revved to fully capacity. Han was about to run up the ramp when he
heard a frantic call.
"Wait! Sir, wait!" It was Threepio. "Wait for me!"
"Hurry up, Goldenrod," Han hollered over the sound of the blaster fire, "or you're going to be a permanent resident!"
When the protocol droid finally ambled into the ship, Han followed on his heels, slammed the controls to raise the ramp, and dashed straight to the cockpit.
He flew into his seat and grabbed the controls. "Let's go!"
Chewie growled. "What do you mean we can't take off?" Han snapped. "I thought you fixed that!"
Leia leaned forward from the chair behind him. "Would it help if I got out and pushed?"
"It might." Han flicked a few more switches. "This baby's got a few surprises left in her, sweetheart." Beneath them a small laser cannon lowered from the belly of the freighter and opened fire. The three men were nearly within spitting distance by now, so they had to dive and roll to evade the large green bolts from the gun.
Simultaneously Chewie wrawled triumphantly. "About time, furball," Han grumbled. He flicked two switches above his head and grabbed the controls. With a shudder the Falcon lifted a few feet off the ground, and Han immediately slammed the drive levers downward. Its landing gear retracting as it climbed, the starship soared into the sky.
---
"They got away," Boba Fett said grimly from beneath his helmet. "You failed."
"Hey, we did our best, boss," One-Eye proclaimed boldly.
"Your best is inadequate," Fett spat. In an instant he shot the three men dead. "From now on I do this myself." With a reluctant shrug he slung his blaster rifle's strap over his shoulder and strode away. The tracking device he had planted on the Millennium Falcon's hull the night before would give him all the information he needed.
---
It was just past sundown and Mara knew she had to figure out something quickly. She was exhausted, and she could sense in the Force that Luke was too. They were trudging aimlessly through the shadowy streets of Mos Eisley. It was accomplishing nothing. The only sensible thing to do at this point was to try to somehow put aside their grief and get some sleep. As they continued walking, she decided they should stop at the next inn they found.
After they had hastened away from the scene of the failed rescue with the bodies of their slain friends, Luke had gone to the market to buy some blankets while Mara had stood guard over the corpses in an alley. They had carried the reverently wrapped bodies far out into the desert. On a rocky outcropping they had used their lightsabers to ignite the makeshift funeral pyre and had stood by solemnly until the last embers had been carried away in the desert winds. Then they had trekked back across the scorching sand to the city.
They were covered in sweat and sand and soot from the pyre. Their hands were stained with grime and caked with the blood of their friends. Their muscles ached and they were weak from hunger. And most of all their spirits were filled with agony that they had not been able to protect their friends.
Mara noticed a small wooden sign hanging above an opening doorway. Camie's Place. She reached out and took Luke's hand. "We can't do anything more tonight," she said hoarsely. "I'll see what they have."
"Okay," he agreed with a tired, sad nod. These were the first words they had spoken since the pyre had started burning hours ago.
Hand-in-hand they walked inside. The young woman behind the low mud-brick wall that served as a reception desk startled visibly at the sight of the two dirtied, dark-clad figures entering the establishment. After a moment, though, she put on a smile and greeted them. "How may I help you?"
"We need…" Mara paused, and Luke squeezed her hand reassuringly. "We need a room, if you have it."
"Well, you're in luck, then," the woman grinned. "It just so happens we have one room left tonight."
Mara only had been to Tatooine once before, a mission nearly a decade ago with her Master. She struggled to remember what he had taught her about the customs of commerce here. And since the proprietress had not proposed a price, she assumed it was her responsibility to start the negotiations. "How about three hundred?"
The woman did a poor job of concealing her amazement at the number. "And how will you be paying?"
Mara reached her free hand to her utility belt and withdrew a datacard. "I have a transfer chip with Republic credits."
The woman nodded graciously. "Credits will do fine."
Then Mara remembered something else. "And we'll need some clean towels and a basin of water," she said. Water was scarce on Tatooine, of course, and there was no reason to start being stingy now. "Another hundred?"
"Certainly," the woman smiled. "If you give me a few minutes, I'll have those brought in beforehand so you won't have to be disturbed. And I'll throw in some bread and pallies on the house."
"Thank you," Mara said.
"You can wait over there," the woman explained, motioning toward a bench a few paces down a side hallway. "I'll be back as soon everything is ready."
As promised, a few minutes later the proprietress showed them to the room. Mara closed the door behind them and set the manual locks. Silently they hung their cloaks on the hook by the door.
The room was small, only a few meters square. It had a single tiny, open window on the far wall through which the cool nighttime desert breeze was blowing gently. Beneath the window was a round table an arm's length in diameter; atop it sat the single glowlamp that dimly illuminated the space, the plate containing the foodstuffs, and a pitcher of water with two glasses. The bed was not very wide, not for two people, but the white linens at least appeared to be fresh. On the opposite wall was a narrow doorway covered by a hanging sheet, which led to what no doubt was a very primitive lavatory. And near the door was a pile of a half dozen clean blue towels and a shallow metal basin filled with water.
"We should clean up first, I guess," she said quietly.
"Yeah," Luke agreed sadly.
Mara walked the few paces over to the table, unclipped her lightsaber handle from her belt, and put it down next to the plate. Luke unclipped his handle too and passed the weapon to her; she set it down next to hers.
Then she kneeled at the basin and began to wipe down her robes with a towel; Luke did the same. She couldn't get much of the dirt and grime out of the fabric, but at least it made the attire a bit more presentable. After a few minutes they had done all they could about the appearance of their clothing.
She didn't feel clean, not at all. And she could tell Luke didn't either.
She knew what she had to do, and her heart started pounding at the idea. Blinking hard, she tried to convince herself that this was no big deal – while it was far from hedonistic, the Temple did not teach excessive modesty either. For that matter, over the last dozen years she had been in all manner of states of undress around her Master at various times, and it never once had bothered her.
But this was different. This was Luke. She had feelings for him. Strong feelings. Her relationship with her Master was strictly professional. Her daydreams about Luke most certainly were not.
But she had no choice.
Still kneeling on the floor and without saying a word, Mara reached down to her utility belt and took it off. She arranged it carefully on the floor, then removed the black outer layer of her robes. With a quick glance to the side she saw Luke undressing from his indigo robes too, and in the Force she could sense that he was as unsure and anxious as she was. She shrugged off the underlying layers of crimson robes from her shoulders and pulled them out from around her legs. After folding them neatly and putting them down with the rest, she looked down at herself. Her sleeveless white top was soaked through with sweat, as were her white shorts.
She nearly sprang into the air when Luke spoke.
"Here," he said simply.
She looked over to see him offering her the bar of soap the proprietress must have included with the towels. His shorts and sleeveless shirt clung to his skin too. The sight made her heart skip a beat. "Thanks," she nodded.
First she thoroughly washed her hands and face, then wiped them clean with a damp towel. She wordlessly offered the soap to Luke, who followed suit. Without speaking they took turns as they cleaned their arms and legs. The entire time there were furtive glances at one another, but they scrupulously avoided making eye contact.
When it was her turn again, Mara balked. She could sense a glimmer of expectation emanating from Luke, and it made her feel incredibly self-conscious. She turned away from him and began to clean beneath the front of her shirt. The burst of his disappointment in the Force was palpable. She passed the soap behind her back to him before she wiped down with the towel.
"Do you mind," he asked softly, "if I just…"
She looked over her shoulder to see him indicating that he was going to remove his shirt. "No," she gulped. "Go ahead."
"Thanks," he said.
She tore her eyes away. He wanted her to look at him; she knew he did. And she wanted desperately to look at him, but something was holding her back. She was doubting herself and her feelings for him. And, too, his feelings for her. They hadn't talked about their relationship – if there even was one – at all, and now their grief might be clouding their better judgment. Or it might be making them see a truth that they had been denying. Her heart was pounding out of control and the urge to spin around was almost overwhelming. She didn't know what to do.
He cleared his throat. "Do you want me to get your back?"
Somehow her heart found a way to speed up even more. She was too tired to make any effort to conceal her emotions from him, so she knew he could perceive in the Force exactly what she was feeling. "Um… yeah…" she sputtered. "I guess so."
She trembled when his fingers clasped the bottom of her shirt and pushed it up her back to her shoulders. Very tenderly he began to run his hand across her skin, coating her with a thin layer of the suds. Her breathing quickened and a shiver ran down her spine. Only a few seconds later, though, his hand finished its gentle path and pulled away. Then she felt the moist towel run up and down and his hands tug her shirt into place again.
Mara took a deep breath and turned around. And stared. Luke's hair was hanging down over his eyes. His bare chest glistened from its remaining moisture. The shadows cast on his body by the dim glowlamp defined the toned muscles of his arms and legs. The image left almost nothing to her imagination.
She swallowed hard. "I'll get you," she offered.
"Thanks." He shifted on his knees and faced his bare back toward her.
Her hands were shaking as she lathered them up. She had to take a few deep breaths, and even then she was far from calm. Finally she forced herself to place her hands on his shoulders. As gently as she could she slid her fingers along his skin, massaging the soap over his muscles. When she reached his lower back she didn't want to stop touching his skin. But she did. She used his towel to wipe him clean.
They stood and faced each other again. Neither one said a word as they walked to the table and began to devour the bread and pallies. When the last morsels were gone, they simply stood there.
The distraction of eating had restored a measure of composure to her emotions, and Mara was peering calmly out the tiny window at the stars when Luke took her hand a long while later. "I'm sorry I failed today," he said softly.
"No, you didn't," she insisted. "You did the best you could, but… they just wouldn't listen." With her free hand she wiped her eyes. "Besides, this is all my fault. You were right, Luke. I should have listened to you."
"Don't think that way, Mara," he chastised her firmly as he gently squeezed her hand. "If we hadn't gone after them, they would have been killed anyway. You were right about that, I know you were. We had to do what we did. But I should have been strong enough to protect them."
"No, Luke," she said. "No. I won't let you blame yourself for this."
He smiled weakly. "And how do you plan to stop me?"
She chuckled a little. "I don't know. But trust me, I'll think of something."
"Oh, that's very intimidating," he chuckled too.
Mara suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion shudder through her body. "I'm tired," she whispered, "I need to lie down now."
"Okay," he agreed. With only the slightest bit of guidance in his grasp he led her to the bed.
She let him crawl in first and tried her best to arrange herself next to him. First she elbowed him in the ribs. Then she kicked him in the shin. After she nearly poked him in the eye, he inadvertently pinned her hair underneath his arm. Finally they ended up lying on their sides, face to face, one of his arms wrapped around her back and one of hers tucked around his waist.
She looked deeply into his blue eyes. He was suffering greatly over their loss. He was concerned for the future; no doubt this disaster of a mission would be a major setback to standing for the Trials. He was anxious about the impending war. Somewhere inside she knew he remained worried about Leia. And yet as he gazed back at her he seemed to be at peace. And her heartbeat was thundering in her chest again.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry."
With her free hand she reached up and brushed his long sandy-brown hair away from his eyes. "I know you are," she replied soothingly. "I'm sorry too."
His palm pressed against her back through her shirt while his other hand came to rest on her neck just beneath her ear. "It's going to be okay," he whispered. "It's going to be okay."
In the warmth of his embrace she believed him. She let her fingertips slowly caress the bare skin of his lower back, and he responded by very lightly stroking her neck with his. Without breaking their intense gaze she ran her fingers up to his shoulders and down again, and he slipped his hand beneath her shirt to begin caressing the skin of her back too. Without realizing she was doing it she pressed her body against his and felt him pull her even closer.
"Mara…"
"Luke…"
She wasn't sure if he kissed her or she kissed him or they kissed each other at the same time. But it didn't really matter. The delicate sensation of his lips on hers was the most wonderful thing she had felt in her life.
And suddenly she no longer felt tired at all.