Oswalth Rotulle scowled as he took the thick cigarra from his mouth and
blew a smoke ring into the air. "Of course I remember where I got the
ship," he retorted, sounding slightly miffed. "Though I don't see what
this has to do with anything."
"Just answer the question," Mara ordered. "I need the location."
Rotulle laughed nervously. "This is ridiculous. Why do you want--"
Mara was losing patience. "Either you report to me or to Vader himself," she told him. "He will doubtlessly employ a faster method of making you talk than I am. The choice is yours. I don't have all day."
Rotulle seemed to get the message. "Sure," he nodded, trying to appear at ease. "What does it matter, anyway? I was on Derra IV, in the capital city of Kraull."
"Do you know the identity of the person who sold you the ship?"
"No--I promise I have no idea," He added defensively as she speared him with an interrogative expression.
"Give me a physical description, then," Mara told him.
Rotulle shrugged. "Average height, light hair, blue eyes, I think. Young guy--early twenties."
At this, Mara went cold.
The smuggler saw her expression and interpreted her recognition. "Oh, I get it. He's the guy you're looking for? A pilot that decided to defect and do as much damage as he could on the way out, huh?" He nodded knowingly.
Mara didn't reply. She fumbled with a small holocube of Luke, taken a couple days after the destruction of the Death Star, and showed it to Rotulle. "Do you recognize this person?"
"Yeah. He's the very one that sold me the ship," the smuggler nodded. "I don't forget faces."
She wondered vaguely why this news filled her with such an unexplained sense of foreboding. She was getting closer to Skywalker's location. Why should that bother her? Wasn't the purpose in searching for him to find him?
"What other details did you gather from meeting with him?" Mara asked quietly. It was highly doubtful that Luke would have given any accidental clues of his present whereabouts to a smuggler, but she had to ask.
"Nothing of the sort," Rotulle replied. "But if you're still looking for him, I would place my bets that he is still on Derra IV."
"What makes you so certain that he's still on the planet?" she asked.
Rotulle grinned. "I bought the ship from him for five-thousand credits," he replied. "So, unless he had a bank account somewhere, stole some money from someone or stole another ship, there's no one on this side of the galaxy that would take him off-planet for such a low price." The smuggler spread his hands. "He'd be stranded."
Mara considered for a moment. Rotulle did have a point. With anyone else, she wouldn't have counted on their moral sensibilities to keep them in a place hazardous to their health, but Luke Skywalker possessed a strange sense of ethics and a powerful sense of right and wrong.
"You paid only five-thousand for that ship?" she asked. "And he took you up on it?" He had no friends to call on for funds or assistance, except for the members of the Rebel Alliance. But, according to all reports, he had made no attempt to contact them in any way or even let them know that he was alive. It was almost admirable the way he tried to keep them out of this and keep them safe from danger, even when that danger was [i]him[/i]. No, she mused. Luke would not embezzle someone's funds or steal a person's ship. He would not manipulate innocent people in any way for his own personal gain, even though he possessed the power to do so.
Rotulle shrugged and smiled. "I pegged that guy for an idiot the moment I met him. It probably never occurred to him to try to haggle the price, just as it probably never occurred to him to make himself scarce. In fact, I'm willing to place bets that he never even left Kraull. Really," he shrugged. "Can you blame me for taking advantage of someone like that?"
Mara bristled, hoping belatedly that it didn't show that his comment offended her more than she would have cared to admit. "Thank you," she said coldly. "I believe that's all I need from you."
And there it was: she had found him. After nearly eight weeks of searching, she held in her hand the power to destroy Skywalker's life forever, like she had wanted to do when the Emperor had ordered her seven months before.
"Ma'am," the dark-haired intelligence officer murmured from where he'd been standing silently behind her. "Do you wish me to inform Lord Vader of the news?"
Mara focused on him. "No, Captain." She straightened. "You have your men take care of our prisoner here," she nodded to Rotulle. "I will tell Lord Vader myself."
*****
Benjamin sat up at the kitchen counter on a chair not quite high enough for him, a look of concentration on his face as he ate his breakfast. His short legs, not quite touching the floor, swung cheerfully against the side of the cabinet with a rhythmic banging sound.
"For crying out loud, Benjamin," Connah began, wiping her hands on her apron. "You're driving me out of my mind--please just eat."
The boy stopped banging, and they both looked up to see Aram enter the small kitchen, stamping his boots and shaking his dripping parka over the clean floor. Connah chose not to notice. "So?" She asked. "Did you hear anything?"
Her husband sighed, wiping the water dripping from his graying hair out of his eyes. "Several of the city's generators are out," he told her. "They're working to get them back on line as fast as they can. Spaceport traffic is congested and backed up about four hours, and schools are closed because of power outages." He came forward and kissed her hello. "Does that about sum it all up?"
"You mean I don't have to go to school?" Benjamin brightened. "I can play today?"
"I guess so," Connah nodded, seizing a rag and wiping the countertop as she eyed the weather, cold and dismal, outside the window. The rain had slackened off to a bare trickle, though the sky was still heavy with dark clouds, but the ground was littered with the carnage of the night's gale: garbage strewn across streets and lawns, felled tree branches and random pieces of debris. "I'm not sure what kind of day it will be for playing, though," she told him.
"Can Luke take me to the playground today?" Benjamin asked.
Connah shook her head. "Your uncle and Mr. Lars have work to do."
"Yeah, and we'll have to go get that speeder this morning." Aram checked his chrono. "Speaking of Luke, where is he?"
Connah continued scrubbing at the cabinets, wiping away invisible dirt. "Who knows?" She asked, a trace of unwarranted bitterness tingeing her voice. "He might not even be here anymore. The fact is, I will be surprised if we actually do ever see our speeder again. He's probably long gone with it by now."
"I think Luke must be sleeping in," Benjamin piped helpfully. "'Cause I haven't seen him this morning."
Aram looked from his wife to his nephew and sighed. "Benjamin, why don't you go knock on his door and wake Luke up for us, okay?"
"Sure!" The boy bounded off his chair and out of the kitchen, banging the door shut behind him. Aram turned to his wife.
"What would prompt you to think that Luke would do something like steal our speeder?" he asked.
"The breakdown in the middle of the storm was timed conveniently, don't you think?" she raised a questioning eyebrow at him. "A good way to slip it away from us, hide it somewhere and get sympathy from us to boot."
"You think he would trudge two hours in the freezing rain just for that?"
"He could have stood under the downpour for two minutes to look like he did," she replied. "And if he were really stranded, why didn't he call or spend the night somewhere?"
"If he were really stealing it, then why did he come back?" Aram retorted. He shook his head. "No, I cannot picture him doing such a thing."
She leveled her gaze at him. "Does it seem so farfetched?" She asked. "Have you ever stopped to think about what you really know about this person?"
"He's a hard worker," Aram reminded her. "A good worker. He's polite, courteous. Benjamin adores him like an older brother. Just what else would you have him be?"
"All that could be an act," she pointed out. "He could be a criminal--a wanted fugitive for all we know."
"I think you're getting a little bit carried away--"
Connah shook her head. "I don't trust him," she said quietly. "I don't like his eyes. He's hiding something."
"Well, we all are entitled to our secrets."
"And you are far too trusting for your own good."
"Don't worry," he assured her. "I'm a good judge of character."
"Even if that character is in the process of constructing a weapon in the room above your shop?"
He frowned. "A weapon?"
She nodded. "I ran across it while cleaning the other day. It's built in a cylindrical casing with wires sticking out both ends. I don't think it's finished yet, but it looks like it could be a bomb of some sort."
"So my employee is either going to steal my speeder or blow up my shop?" He asked.
"Or both."
*****
"Come on, Luke!" Benjamin tugged impatiently at the Jedi's hand. "You have to see what the storm did-tons of stuff blew into our yard. Oh, and guess what--I don't have school today, so we can go play at the playground. Hurry! My uncle says he needs you to help him."
Luke allowed himself to be led by the 7-year-old, nodding and smiling vaguely in response to the chattering boy. He felt generally like he had been run over by a Star Destroyer in the night. He was exhausted and had a fever. A dull throbbing was already forming in his temples for what promised to be a killer headache, and every limb felt as if they were dragging lead weights.
Benjamin towed Luke into the kitchen, exclaiming triumphantly, "I found him! Here he is--I told him you needed him, Uncle Aram."
The atmosphere of the kitchen suddenly changed as Luke entered, as if the couple had been discussing something and were suddenly interrupted. Aram turned, a belated smile coming to his kindly features, as Connah just shot Luke an unrecognizable look and began washing the cabinet tops.
"Ah, Luke. I'm sorry for the rude awakening," the older man apologized. "I was thinking that now would be a good time to go and get the speeder."
The Jedi nodded warily. "All right."
"Did you want something to eat first?" Connah asked, turning, her glance begrudging a small amount of courtesy.
Luke didn't meet her eyes. "No, thank you," he declined politely. "I'm not very hungry this morning." He did not miss the look she flashed her husband before turning back to the cabinets.
"Well, then we'll be going," Aram announced, his voice breaking the unspoken tension in the room. "Be back soon."
They stepped out, wordlessly, walking across the green lawn, the color of which seemed to be enhanced and vividly brightened by the recent moisture. The rain that was still falling was like a heavy mist that shrouded everything in a spider's web of water. The sky showed no signs of sunlight, but at least the wind had subsided.
"That was a pretty fierce storm we had last night," Aram commented as they climbed into his speeder. This one was newer and sleeker and buffed a glossy black; their family vehicle.
"Yes," Luke nodded. "Do you get those very often?"
The older man chuckled as he started the engine. "Well, they are more prevalent this time of year. Oh, I forgot to ask you last night--were you able to fix the hotel's droids all right?"
"Yes, it went fine," Luke said. "Took a little longer than I had expected, but it went fine." he leaned his head back on the rigid neck-rest. "I hadn't anticipated that I was so far from here or I would have walked back to the hotel and tried to call instead of trying to hike all night through a storm."
"I'm sorry I wasn't there to help," Aram apologized. "That old speeder has been known to break down before."
"It's okay."
Aram glanced sidelong at the young man, noting how his features looked pale and strained. "Are you sure?" he asked. "You look sick or something."
Luke nodded. "I'm fine," he answered. "Just a little tired."
******
She had told Vader that she would inform him immediately when there was any new information, and this certainly qualified, but the dark lord still had not been called.
It had been several hours since Rotulle's interrogation, and Mara had found herself taking a walk through the historic parts of one of Caleight's old mining towns. She needed to report to Vader. This was important news that he needed to know.
Still, she could not shake the unmistakable sense of dread that accompanied that task. She could not bring herself to do it. Why? What was wrong with her? That she felt sympathetic for Skywalker was unmistakable. The Emperor had promised the Jedi that an attempt to escape would warrant severe punishment. She did not wish that on him. She could not understand how Vader, as Luke's father, could wish that on him.
Still, what was the Jedi to her? She needed to take care in forming attachments to people like Skywalker. Such things were dangerous weaknesses. She knew that after being captured, Skywalker was not likely to ever be the same again. Palpatine would most assuredly break him, mold him to use in the very manner that horrified and frightened the Jedi most: turn him in to an unrecognizable tool of the Dark Side.
Mara kicked casually at a rock. She had once accused Luke of being delusional and stubborn for sticking to his pointless standard of the 'light side'. She hadn't understood his reasons or his determination. Now, however, she was beginning to see: It was the genuine goodness in him that was the light side. It was his searing conscience, his thought of others before himself. All these things were things she quietly admired about him, she realized. All of it came from the light side.
Mara did not want to see Skywalker hurt. She did not want to see his soul and personality altered beyond recognition. All these things would happen if she turned in her report to Vader.
The Emperor's Hand suddenly turned back to her ship, something purposeful now in her stride. It might take a week for her to get to Derra IV. She would have to set out immediately.
Luke deserved something from her, even if it was only a friendly warning and the means of getting off-planet. And as for Vader, well, she wasn't above lying to the dark lord.
********
Do you want more??? Cuz I have more where that came from...
"Just answer the question," Mara ordered. "I need the location."
Rotulle laughed nervously. "This is ridiculous. Why do you want--"
Mara was losing patience. "Either you report to me or to Vader himself," she told him. "He will doubtlessly employ a faster method of making you talk than I am. The choice is yours. I don't have all day."
Rotulle seemed to get the message. "Sure," he nodded, trying to appear at ease. "What does it matter, anyway? I was on Derra IV, in the capital city of Kraull."
"Do you know the identity of the person who sold you the ship?"
"No--I promise I have no idea," He added defensively as she speared him with an interrogative expression.
"Give me a physical description, then," Mara told him.
Rotulle shrugged. "Average height, light hair, blue eyes, I think. Young guy--early twenties."
At this, Mara went cold.
The smuggler saw her expression and interpreted her recognition. "Oh, I get it. He's the guy you're looking for? A pilot that decided to defect and do as much damage as he could on the way out, huh?" He nodded knowingly.
Mara didn't reply. She fumbled with a small holocube of Luke, taken a couple days after the destruction of the Death Star, and showed it to Rotulle. "Do you recognize this person?"
"Yeah. He's the very one that sold me the ship," the smuggler nodded. "I don't forget faces."
She wondered vaguely why this news filled her with such an unexplained sense of foreboding. She was getting closer to Skywalker's location. Why should that bother her? Wasn't the purpose in searching for him to find him?
"What other details did you gather from meeting with him?" Mara asked quietly. It was highly doubtful that Luke would have given any accidental clues of his present whereabouts to a smuggler, but she had to ask.
"Nothing of the sort," Rotulle replied. "But if you're still looking for him, I would place my bets that he is still on Derra IV."
"What makes you so certain that he's still on the planet?" she asked.
Rotulle grinned. "I bought the ship from him for five-thousand credits," he replied. "So, unless he had a bank account somewhere, stole some money from someone or stole another ship, there's no one on this side of the galaxy that would take him off-planet for such a low price." The smuggler spread his hands. "He'd be stranded."
Mara considered for a moment. Rotulle did have a point. With anyone else, she wouldn't have counted on their moral sensibilities to keep them in a place hazardous to their health, but Luke Skywalker possessed a strange sense of ethics and a powerful sense of right and wrong.
"You paid only five-thousand for that ship?" she asked. "And he took you up on it?" He had no friends to call on for funds or assistance, except for the members of the Rebel Alliance. But, according to all reports, he had made no attempt to contact them in any way or even let them know that he was alive. It was almost admirable the way he tried to keep them out of this and keep them safe from danger, even when that danger was [i]him[/i]. No, she mused. Luke would not embezzle someone's funds or steal a person's ship. He would not manipulate innocent people in any way for his own personal gain, even though he possessed the power to do so.
Rotulle shrugged and smiled. "I pegged that guy for an idiot the moment I met him. It probably never occurred to him to try to haggle the price, just as it probably never occurred to him to make himself scarce. In fact, I'm willing to place bets that he never even left Kraull. Really," he shrugged. "Can you blame me for taking advantage of someone like that?"
Mara bristled, hoping belatedly that it didn't show that his comment offended her more than she would have cared to admit. "Thank you," she said coldly. "I believe that's all I need from you."
And there it was: she had found him. After nearly eight weeks of searching, she held in her hand the power to destroy Skywalker's life forever, like she had wanted to do when the Emperor had ordered her seven months before.
"Ma'am," the dark-haired intelligence officer murmured from where he'd been standing silently behind her. "Do you wish me to inform Lord Vader of the news?"
Mara focused on him. "No, Captain." She straightened. "You have your men take care of our prisoner here," she nodded to Rotulle. "I will tell Lord Vader myself."
*****
Benjamin sat up at the kitchen counter on a chair not quite high enough for him, a look of concentration on his face as he ate his breakfast. His short legs, not quite touching the floor, swung cheerfully against the side of the cabinet with a rhythmic banging sound.
"For crying out loud, Benjamin," Connah began, wiping her hands on her apron. "You're driving me out of my mind--please just eat."
The boy stopped banging, and they both looked up to see Aram enter the small kitchen, stamping his boots and shaking his dripping parka over the clean floor. Connah chose not to notice. "So?" She asked. "Did you hear anything?"
Her husband sighed, wiping the water dripping from his graying hair out of his eyes. "Several of the city's generators are out," he told her. "They're working to get them back on line as fast as they can. Spaceport traffic is congested and backed up about four hours, and schools are closed because of power outages." He came forward and kissed her hello. "Does that about sum it all up?"
"You mean I don't have to go to school?" Benjamin brightened. "I can play today?"
"I guess so," Connah nodded, seizing a rag and wiping the countertop as she eyed the weather, cold and dismal, outside the window. The rain had slackened off to a bare trickle, though the sky was still heavy with dark clouds, but the ground was littered with the carnage of the night's gale: garbage strewn across streets and lawns, felled tree branches and random pieces of debris. "I'm not sure what kind of day it will be for playing, though," she told him.
"Can Luke take me to the playground today?" Benjamin asked.
Connah shook her head. "Your uncle and Mr. Lars have work to do."
"Yeah, and we'll have to go get that speeder this morning." Aram checked his chrono. "Speaking of Luke, where is he?"
Connah continued scrubbing at the cabinets, wiping away invisible dirt. "Who knows?" She asked, a trace of unwarranted bitterness tingeing her voice. "He might not even be here anymore. The fact is, I will be surprised if we actually do ever see our speeder again. He's probably long gone with it by now."
"I think Luke must be sleeping in," Benjamin piped helpfully. "'Cause I haven't seen him this morning."
Aram looked from his wife to his nephew and sighed. "Benjamin, why don't you go knock on his door and wake Luke up for us, okay?"
"Sure!" The boy bounded off his chair and out of the kitchen, banging the door shut behind him. Aram turned to his wife.
"What would prompt you to think that Luke would do something like steal our speeder?" he asked.
"The breakdown in the middle of the storm was timed conveniently, don't you think?" she raised a questioning eyebrow at him. "A good way to slip it away from us, hide it somewhere and get sympathy from us to boot."
"You think he would trudge two hours in the freezing rain just for that?"
"He could have stood under the downpour for two minutes to look like he did," she replied. "And if he were really stranded, why didn't he call or spend the night somewhere?"
"If he were really stealing it, then why did he come back?" Aram retorted. He shook his head. "No, I cannot picture him doing such a thing."
She leveled her gaze at him. "Does it seem so farfetched?" She asked. "Have you ever stopped to think about what you really know about this person?"
"He's a hard worker," Aram reminded her. "A good worker. He's polite, courteous. Benjamin adores him like an older brother. Just what else would you have him be?"
"All that could be an act," she pointed out. "He could be a criminal--a wanted fugitive for all we know."
"I think you're getting a little bit carried away--"
Connah shook her head. "I don't trust him," she said quietly. "I don't like his eyes. He's hiding something."
"Well, we all are entitled to our secrets."
"And you are far too trusting for your own good."
"Don't worry," he assured her. "I'm a good judge of character."
"Even if that character is in the process of constructing a weapon in the room above your shop?"
He frowned. "A weapon?"
She nodded. "I ran across it while cleaning the other day. It's built in a cylindrical casing with wires sticking out both ends. I don't think it's finished yet, but it looks like it could be a bomb of some sort."
"So my employee is either going to steal my speeder or blow up my shop?" He asked.
"Or both."
*****
"Come on, Luke!" Benjamin tugged impatiently at the Jedi's hand. "You have to see what the storm did-tons of stuff blew into our yard. Oh, and guess what--I don't have school today, so we can go play at the playground. Hurry! My uncle says he needs you to help him."
Luke allowed himself to be led by the 7-year-old, nodding and smiling vaguely in response to the chattering boy. He felt generally like he had been run over by a Star Destroyer in the night. He was exhausted and had a fever. A dull throbbing was already forming in his temples for what promised to be a killer headache, and every limb felt as if they were dragging lead weights.
Benjamin towed Luke into the kitchen, exclaiming triumphantly, "I found him! Here he is--I told him you needed him, Uncle Aram."
The atmosphere of the kitchen suddenly changed as Luke entered, as if the couple had been discussing something and were suddenly interrupted. Aram turned, a belated smile coming to his kindly features, as Connah just shot Luke an unrecognizable look and began washing the cabinet tops.
"Ah, Luke. I'm sorry for the rude awakening," the older man apologized. "I was thinking that now would be a good time to go and get the speeder."
The Jedi nodded warily. "All right."
"Did you want something to eat first?" Connah asked, turning, her glance begrudging a small amount of courtesy.
Luke didn't meet her eyes. "No, thank you," he declined politely. "I'm not very hungry this morning." He did not miss the look she flashed her husband before turning back to the cabinets.
"Well, then we'll be going," Aram announced, his voice breaking the unspoken tension in the room. "Be back soon."
They stepped out, wordlessly, walking across the green lawn, the color of which seemed to be enhanced and vividly brightened by the recent moisture. The rain that was still falling was like a heavy mist that shrouded everything in a spider's web of water. The sky showed no signs of sunlight, but at least the wind had subsided.
"That was a pretty fierce storm we had last night," Aram commented as they climbed into his speeder. This one was newer and sleeker and buffed a glossy black; their family vehicle.
"Yes," Luke nodded. "Do you get those very often?"
The older man chuckled as he started the engine. "Well, they are more prevalent this time of year. Oh, I forgot to ask you last night--were you able to fix the hotel's droids all right?"
"Yes, it went fine," Luke said. "Took a little longer than I had expected, but it went fine." he leaned his head back on the rigid neck-rest. "I hadn't anticipated that I was so far from here or I would have walked back to the hotel and tried to call instead of trying to hike all night through a storm."
"I'm sorry I wasn't there to help," Aram apologized. "That old speeder has been known to break down before."
"It's okay."
Aram glanced sidelong at the young man, noting how his features looked pale and strained. "Are you sure?" he asked. "You look sick or something."
Luke nodded. "I'm fine," he answered. "Just a little tired."
******
She had told Vader that she would inform him immediately when there was any new information, and this certainly qualified, but the dark lord still had not been called.
It had been several hours since Rotulle's interrogation, and Mara had found herself taking a walk through the historic parts of one of Caleight's old mining towns. She needed to report to Vader. This was important news that he needed to know.
Still, she could not shake the unmistakable sense of dread that accompanied that task. She could not bring herself to do it. Why? What was wrong with her? That she felt sympathetic for Skywalker was unmistakable. The Emperor had promised the Jedi that an attempt to escape would warrant severe punishment. She did not wish that on him. She could not understand how Vader, as Luke's father, could wish that on him.
Still, what was the Jedi to her? She needed to take care in forming attachments to people like Skywalker. Such things were dangerous weaknesses. She knew that after being captured, Skywalker was not likely to ever be the same again. Palpatine would most assuredly break him, mold him to use in the very manner that horrified and frightened the Jedi most: turn him in to an unrecognizable tool of the Dark Side.
Mara kicked casually at a rock. She had once accused Luke of being delusional and stubborn for sticking to his pointless standard of the 'light side'. She hadn't understood his reasons or his determination. Now, however, she was beginning to see: It was the genuine goodness in him that was the light side. It was his searing conscience, his thought of others before himself. All these things were things she quietly admired about him, she realized. All of it came from the light side.
Mara did not want to see Skywalker hurt. She did not want to see his soul and personality altered beyond recognition. All these things would happen if she turned in her report to Vader.
The Emperor's Hand suddenly turned back to her ship, something purposeful now in her stride. It might take a week for her to get to Derra IV. She would have to set out immediately.
Luke deserved something from her, even if it was only a friendly warning and the means of getting off-planet. And as for Vader, well, she wasn't above lying to the dark lord.
********
Do you want more??? Cuz I have more where that came from...
