The Author's Notes: Not much to report. It looks like the speed of the updates might have to slow down a little since I've got classes starting again on Monday and my profs all love to assign MASSIVE amounts of reading and corresponding papers.

This chapter kinda came out a little flightier than I meant . . . almost like a limbo. I guess that's just me setting my facts in stone, but we get back to forward propulsion in the next chapter, which is just about halfway done. This chapter, though, was more of me establishing the "two steps forward, one step back" stuff that Mara's got going on emotionally with Luke.

I was trying to determine how many chapters I was going to craft this into. Originally that number was around ten . . . but since I'm no where near the halfway point, it has the potential to stretch out much longer than that. Chapter lengths might tend to vary, too, but I seem to linger right around 5 or 6 pages.

So that's the news. . . back to the story.

Disclaimer: Star Wars is copywrite its respective owners and creators (in this case in particular, Timothy Zahn and George Lucas). I have no intent of making money off of this piece (it wouldn't sell in the first place), nor do I seek to deliberately infringe on copywrite laws. This is just some fun I cooked up in my somewhat twisted little mind.

[thank you to the reviewers:] ariapaige, Deja Know I've Been Lookin For Vu, and kayladie, another big thank you! Paige, I totally feel you about spring break. Writing is my doing nothing . . . well, that and napping. ^,^ Deja, I like saber battles, too! Sorry the updates have to slow down, but it shouldn't be too dramatic of a slowing. Kayladie, I was really nervous about that part with Wedge, Leia and Han. Wedge is one of those characters I love to read about but never really made an integral part of a story before, so I wanted to include him more and I know he and the big three are good friends, so I wanted a more approachable side to Wedge through them. Man, that was a long sentence. Anyway. The lightsaber battle was playing itself over and over in my head—I just had to put it in there. Glad it was easy to follow!

Thanks again!

Eye of the Beholder

Chapter 5

Leia and Han waved as Wedge left after finishing his drink, and then politician turned her husband. One eyebrow was arched as she regarded him, and he knew he'd been caught.

"So, where did you get that theory about Fey'lya?" she asked. "Though I think I already know."

"What makes you think it was fed to me?" he asked defensively, eyes wide in feigned innocence.

"Because I'm the politician of the family, and I know how politicians think, but you aren't quite as familiar with the way they work."

"Yeah, but I was a smuggler, and we're pretty underhanded," he replied.

"Alright. Did you come up with that theory on your own?" she asked. Han shrugged sheepishly.

"No. That was what Lando called about. His 'contacts' put it together—but he wouldn't tell me who those contacts are."

"Sounds like Lando," Leia muttered with an eye-roll.

"He knows you're thinking about the Presidency."

She blinked at him. "How can he possibly know that?"

Han shrugged. "It's Lando. I gave up trying to figure him out years ago."

Leia sank into bed, looking tired. Han joined her, stretching out before turning on his side and closing his eyes. In just a few moments, he looked like he was going to be deeply asleep. She shook her head, wishing slumber came that easily to her.

"Should we call Luke?" she asked, tucking herself against Han's warm body.

"We've got time—we can at least give him 'til morning."

She nodded and listened as his breathing deepened, letting that comforting pattern lull her to sleep as well.

-*-

Two in the morning found Mara in the galley, putting together a late-night snack. She almost never slept a whole night through anymore, but that was more beneficial than anything in her line of work. She felt safe at this early hour, able to drop her tight composure, so she danced around the kitchen. It had been a long time since she'd just danced, moved just for herself. She'd been to more than a few balls and had posed as a dancer in a couple of information-gathering missions, but she hadn't simply danced to dance in what felt like an eternity.

She had a sinking suspicion that Skywalker was somehow at the root of that urge, which was almost upsetting enough to make her stop dancing. On the other hand, after their sparring matches it felt good to let her muscles move and stretch. In the end, her body won out over her bitter heart. She continued to dance as she made her way to the cockpit—the starlines of hyperspace always helped to lull her back to sleep—and stopped short at the open door. So far, she'd been moving silently, and she kept that stealth as she crept forward.

Luke was there, leaning back in the copilots chair. His position was unguarded and casual, with his arms clasped behind his head and his body tucked into the embrace of the chair. His eyes were only half-open and he looked to be watching the starlines. There was an aura of calm about him that she could detect even without a Force probe of his sense. His black glove, always covering his artificial right hand, hung from its limp fingers—completely off. She realized he'd been looking at his own hand for some reason.

She turned to disappear back down the hall and into her quarters, but his sleep-husky voice stopped her.

"Hello, Mara," he murmured. "Can't sleep?"

"No," she replied. She watched him again and noted something else—as relaxed as the rest of him was, his face had never fully lost its tension. He'd been thinking about something, something that struck home, when Mara had interrupted.

Luke slowly rolled off of the chair, his eyes open now but strangely veiled. The Emperor's eyes had often had that look after he'd had a vision, and Mara shuddered at the similarity.

"Well, I'll let you try and get some sleep, then," he said, and offered her the chair he'd just vacated. Her eyes slid to his uncovered right hand, troubling memories swirling around her. Then she purposefully went to the pilot's chair and curled up there. Luke watched her with that creepy, veiled expression, then seemed to shrug mentally and left.

She was glad he was gone. He'd managed to give her the creeps on just the first night of their trip. She hadn't seen him so off-kilter since Joruus C'boath had played with his head. And that almost-blank look he'd had, so like the Emperor's, still had her skin crawling. Was that the kind of power Luke had?

Mara realized then that it wasn't just Luke's ties to the New Republic that kept her from wanting to get close, it was the unconscious comparisons to the Emperor that kept her at bay. Never again would someone have access to her the way the Emperor had.

She was still wracking with tiny, almost unperceivable tremors when Luke returned. Unwilling to face that blank gaze again, she closed her eyes and feigned sleep. He seemed to hesitated, as if trying to decide if she was really sleeping or not, before tucking a blanket in around her. He must have mistaken her earlier shudders for cold.

A blanket. Mara let her eyes drift open as he trailed back toward his quarters. The gesture surprised her. No one had ever bothered to cover her with a blanket before—and she couldn't remember ever being tucked in, either.

He'd tucked in his assassin.

Her eyes closed again, her mind warring against itself. One part told her he could be just like the Emperor, whose power was a thing to be feared and mistrusted; the other told her he was a simple farm boy from a simpler planet, whose only motive was to tuck people in when they were cold.

Still raging that battle, she too found sleep.

--

She didn't mention the blanket the next morning when Luke rejoined her in the cockpit, and he didn't bother to bring up the subject either. His fingers were curled around a cup of caf, and his eyes were bright and clear.

"Did you get to sleep?" he asked instead. Mara gave a short nod and gestured to the computer.

"We should be meeting with Aves tomorrow. We were going to stop at the base, but to conserve time, he's bringing the Wild Karrde and meeting us halfway. He'll have whatever supplies we don't. Then we can set course for the Rim."

The Jedi nodded, sipping at his caf thoughtfully. She decided that he was probably trying to determine a likely planet on the Rim to go. Trouble was, though there weren't too many planets on the Rim worthwhile to go, the ones that did make the list were widely spread. And they didn't know what Karrde had been after when he'd left. Aves had told her that the boss had been deliberately vague about his reasons for leaving. Vague enough to leave them with no more than a general direction.

She caught Luke frown from the corner of her eyes. "What is it?" she asked.

"I was trying to find some echo of Karrde's sense in the Force, but we must be too far away."

Ah. So he'd been tapping into the Force to find her boss. Somehow, she hadn't thought that was a possibility.

It was a relief to know that his power had limits.

"Any ideas on what he might have wanted on the Rim?" he asked, turning those bright eyes her way. Mara shook her head.

"No. Though I suspect it might have something to do with the Smuggler's Alliance. After all, that's the only thing we'd talked about for days before hand," she told him.

"So it's possible he was looking for someone?"

Mara's eyes narrowed in concentration. "It's possible. I don't remember him mentioning any names, though."

"No old contacts he might want to get back into touch with? Nobody who might be able to help the negotiations along?"

She eyed incredulously. "No one can help those negotiations along."

He actually laughed, a warm and welcome sound that echoed in the close cockpit.

"You've got a point," he conceded. "I wish your boss wasn't always so close-lipped. But when we get out to the Rim, I might be able to find him with the Force."

Mara nodded. "We'll have to think of a disguise for you," she murmured thoughtfully. Luke grimaced, remembering the last time she'd thought of a disguise.

"No plants," he told her firmly. A feral grin spread across her face at the memory.

"But you pulled off the puffy look so well," she argued.

"No."

"Suit yourself," she said nonchalantly. "We'll just have to think of something else."

There was a long silence, and then she snapped her fingers excitedly. He glanced at her as she leapt up from her seat and disappeared to some other part of the ship. Five minutes later, she returned with a make-up kit in hand—the largest make-up kit he'd ever seen.

Eyeing it warily, he asked, "And just what are you planning to do with all of that?"

"Don't worry, you'd make an ugly woman," she told him, popping the top open and searching through a myriad of colors. "But we might be able to pass you off of a Corellian."

Luke looked amused as she mixed a couple of pigments together. "A Corellian?"

She shrugged. "Your brother-in-law is a Corellian. Do you think you can pull the attitude off?"

"I flew with the Rogues—some of my closest friends are Corellians—I think I can pull it off."

She began to rub his face with the makeup, darkening his skin. After blending it into his cheek, she sat back to admire her handiwork.

"We might just pull this off," she said. "We'll have to cut and darken your hair, and we should change your eye color too, just in case."

"Sounds good. If anyone recognizes me, I've got the Force as a fallback," he replied.

Mara nodded and gathered her case back together. "All right. Before we hit the Rim, I'll make you look like a complete stranger."

She left him, disappearing yet again. Luke scrubbed the makeup off of his cheek and sat back, left alone in silence. He let the calm of it wash over him and fell into a trance, hoping to find some answers.

-*-

The twins were squalling, and though Han tried valiantly to make them happy, they weren't satisfied with his efforts. He bounced them on his knees and strained to peek into the next room—where his wife was entertaining Mon Mothma.

"All I'm asking is that you keep an eye on him," Leia was saying. "He's making dangerous accusations of this government's greatest heroes. These men are not criminals. They are our champions."

Mon Mothma gave Leia a long-suffering gaze. "Leia, I am no more happy about these proceedings than you are, but I am bound by the law—law that you half create—to determine if these men need to be punished for their actions. They can't be held exempt because of their status."

"I know that, but Bel Iblis—" Leia interrupted herself mid-thought. She knew of the long time amnesty between the two, and though they were on much better terms than they had been in years, she decided that bringing in the headstrong Corellian general into her defense.

"I have no doubt that Han, Luke, and Wedge were acting in the best interests of the New Republic, and this will all blow over very quickly. Unless there's something else you'd like to tell me?"

"Of course not," Leia said, looking almost insulted.

"Than you've got nothing to worry about. Trust this government, and do try to relax and enjoy your maternity leave," the older woman said. Leia looked ready to argue, but let her shoulders fall in defeat before things escalated out of control. She saw Mon Mothma out gracefully, then walked into the nursery and took Jacen.

"That didn't go as well as planned," Han muttered, rubbing Jaina's back soothingly.

"No, it didn't." Leia frowned. "What I'm worried about is how many senators may agree with Fey'lya about the reemergence of the Jedi. Luke may have more of a battle than he bargained for."

"If there's one thing Luke can handle, it's a fight."

Leia situated her self to better feed her son, and let out a long sigh. "He shouldn't have to fight—least of all against a slander campaign."

"I agree with you there, but Luke will be able to cope. Too many people admire him."

"Admire him." She glanced at him with tired brown eyes. "And fear him."

-*-

Mara watched as Luke drifted through his trance, a bit wary. She'd only ever seen the Emperor go into a trance-like state, and that was usually only before he ordered her off on some mission or another. For a brief moment, fear and anger at that fear flared up in her. It was that fear that shook Luke out of his trance.

For a moment, blue eyes as depthless and open as the sky regarded her, searing into her, as if her mind was a rare book laid open before him. She squirmed uncomfortably, and felt an echo of his hurt at her burst of emotions.

"It's not exactly easy for me, you know," she snapped aloud, trying to squash her guilty conscious. "You're sitting there, in a trance, just like him."

"And that scares you."

"Yes," she grumbled, settling into her chair.

"You think I'll end up like him."

"It's not up for discussion."

Luke shook his head, his eyes intent upon her face, which was turned slightly away from him.

"To be frank," he said softly, "I'm scared, too."

Her emerald eyes shot up to his, full of questions and suspicions. He continued, holding her gaze with steely blue bonds.

"I'm afraid of turning out like them—Vader and the Emperor. When I found out . . ." He trailed off for a moment, his throat working with the memory of powerful emotion. "When I found out that Vader was my father, I thought it was inevitable. That I was certain to turn into a monster. I still fight it. It goes without saying that anger and aggression are of the dark side, and I fight those things every day . . . But the other aspect—the fear—that's a lot harder to fight.

"How do you stop your heart from pounding when someone you love is in danger? How do you keep from giving in to the ice that grips you when you know you're going to die? Or—worse—the fear that you'll give into those darker urges that are already clutching at you? I'm in almost constant danger of falling into fear. Fear for my loved ones, and fear for my own soul."

Mara stared at him, overwhelmed by his confessions. Old emotions—the ones squashed out by years of relentless training—rose in her. Sympathy and remorse rolled through her before she could pin them down. The fear lingered, too, but no longer was it a fear simply for herself. A small, sad smile touched his lips then.

"I'm winning," he told her simply. "But it's hard and lonely. And if I ever lose, I know at least one person will have the guts to take care of the problem."

It was the end of the conversation. It left Mara strangely off-kilter, put her companion in a whole new perspective, and added to her list of the skeletons in his closet. He had, she decided, a big closet.

She felt choked sitting there, being dragged into him without her consent, so she stood and headed for the galley.

"We'll meet up with the Wild Karrde in the morning," she told him neutrally, and disappeared down the hall. Luke let out a long breath and turned his attention to the starlines, wondering what impact his confessions had on her. He had no doubt that the Force was forging a bond between them, for what purpose he did not know. He knew she wouldn't be happy to learn of it, but he was certain it would prove itself invaluable.

He moved down the hall to his own quarters, deciding to give her space. His mind trailed off to Wedge. The young pilot had been his friend right from Luke's early days in the Rebellion. And while Luke knew there was little he could do for his friend from the Rim, he knew Wedge would appreciate the thought. Besides, thinking about Wedge's court martial kept his mind off of some of the more colorful visions that had plagued his meditation.