Authors: Co-written by rhonderoo and Jedi Trace
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Lucasfilm, Ltd. No money is being made and no infringement is intended.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Feedback is appreciated.
CHAPTER TWO
Elastic starlines snapped back to pinpoints as the modified Z-95t Headhunter reverted to realspace just outside the Malastare System. Mara had appropriated... more so stolen... the snubfighter from the Imperial Intelligence hangar on Coruscant, and wanted to ensure that she wasn't being tailed by making a series of jumps and microjumps to her intended destination. Intelligence had uncovered a small band of Alliance pilots at M'Haeli, and the Devastator was moving in from Sullust to intercept.
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TIE fighters poured from the Devastator as Mara's Headhunter decanted from hyperspace some distance away from the battle. Tiny lines of red and green announced the beginning of the battle. Mara nosed her snubfighter towards the melee at full throttle, which still proved to be too slow. She checked her computer, and despite the danger of jumping so close to M'Haeli's mass shadow, she keyed the coordinates and went to lightspeed.
Mara came out of hyperspace right at the edge of the main battle, and right in the middle of a smaller dogfight. To call it a dogfight was being kind, as it was more like a predator hunting wounded prey. Mara's sensors showed the X-wing's shields were failing fast as the three TIEs who were in pursuit closed in on its tail. The X-wing's pilot juked erratically as he tried to avoid blast after blast, but his efforts were unsuccessful, and his shields shrank as he took hit after hit.
One of the TIEs broke off from the pursuit and headed towards her, firing as it closed in. A self-satisfying smirk formed on Mara's face as she thought, You just signed your own death warrant, my friend. Mara flipped the Z-95t on it port side and dived towards the planet. As the TIE dived after her, she ruddered hard to the starboard side and swung herself back towards space, and right into the path of the fleeing X-wing. She did a quick spin as the distance between her Headhunter and the X-wing closed, the TIE pilot firing constantly behind her. She was within meters of crashing into the oncoming Alliance snubfighter when she flipped her craft so that her cockpit was adjacent to his. She passed so close to the X-wing that she could make out the terrified expression on the pilot's face. Panicking, he dived away from her. Mara did the same, leaving her pursuer right in the path of the oncoming TIEs' laser blasts. She caught the explosion out of the corner of her eye as she swung around to help the Alliance pilot. Catching up with the chase, she urged every bit of speed she could from the Z-95t.
Bringing her ship up behind the TIEs, Mara armed her proton torpedoes. She keyed in a firing sequence as she allowed the TIE pilots enough time to know that she had a target-lock on them. The two TIEs broke in opposite directions to escape destruction. The first TIE veered sharply to port as her first missile rocketed towards him. Mara ruddered hard to starboard as her second missile fired and immediately triggered her quad lasers. The second missile, programmed to go a few meters to the left of the first, found its target as her quads burned through the cockpit of the other TIE. Mara flew between the twin fireballs, catching a bit of shrapnel as the explosions blossomed beside her. Bits of metal bounced harmlessly of her shields, but a larger chunk punched a hole in her starboard S-foil. The damage not severe enough to impede her mission, she caught up with the X-wing.
The Alliance pilot's static-laden voice came across her comm as they both headed away from the battle. "Thanks. I would've been space-dust if you hadn't come along. Any way I can repay you?"
"I took a few hits back there... and I think that blast may have fried my targeting system. I could use some repairs." Mara lied as she pulled her blaster out of its holster and readied a fire extinguisher.
"Give me a secure channel and I can send you some coordinates. I'm sure the Alliance would be more than happy to fix your ship." She could feel the sincerity pouring from the young man.
"Copy that." Mara replied. "Transmit on tight-beam channel three-one-six. Short burst only. That should be secure enough to get us out of here."
"Sending jump coordinates now." He said. "When you get there, make sure you to tell them you're with me. My name is Dack Ralter."
Mara answered only with a single click of her comm. She fired once into her targeting computer and quickly extinguished the fire. She then keyed in the coordinates Dack had sent her and jumped into hyperspace to her new destination - Ord Mantell.
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Mara landed in the hanger and climbed out of the battered Headhunter. Dack was waiting for her.
"Are you okay? Thanks again for your help out there." He forced himself to look at the damaged ship and not at the slim figure in the flight suit standing in front of him. "It doesn't look too bad. I'm sure we can help you repair it before..." his voice trailed off.
She had removed her helmet and was pushing a stray lock of red-gold hair away from the most beautiful green eyes he'd ever seen. He swallowed. "...before you go home," he finished weakly.
Adopting her most mournful expression, Mara lowered her head, "I can't go home. The Empire destroyed it. I just barely got away, but my parents didn't -" she covered her mouth with her hand and paused for effect.
Dack murmured something about being sorry.
Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and stepped closer to him. "I want to join the Alliance," she declared, hoping she had added the right amount of sincerity and zealousness to her voice.
Dack's face lit up like a nightclub on Coruscant. "Well, um, I didn't catch your name."
"Alyssa," she smiled.
"Well, Alyssa. I think that can be arranged."
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Mara sat in the mess hall the next morning and picked at the painful excuse for a meal. Pilots, crew, and officers mingled freely among the tables. It was a far cry from the strict formality and organization to which she was accustomed.
A tray landed on the table and she looked up to see Dack standing over her. "Mind if I join you?" he grinned.
"Not at all," she smiled. She'd probably smiled more in the last 24 hours than she had in her entire life and her face was starting to hurt.
He sat across from her and attacked his food like he hadn't eaten in years. "I told the captain about your fancy flying out there," he spoke between mouthfuls, "and he was pretty impressed. Said you could go out on our next training mission with Skywalker. If you can fly an X-wing, that is."
"I can fly anything." Dack raised his eyebrows. "At least, that's what my Pa said," she added quickly, cursing her carelessness. It was true, though. She'd learned from the best.
"Who's Skywalker?" she asked.
"Luke Skywalker," he answered. "They've put him in charge of forming a new fighter squadron since we lost almost everyone at the Death Star."
Now we're getting somewhere, she thought.
"Were you at the Death Star?" she asked, lacing the question with fabricated awe.
"No," he looked disappointed. "I joined right after. Luke was there, though. He said it was intense."
"Well, he must be pretty good if he made it through," Mara prodded casually, taking a sip from her cup.
"Oh, he made it all right," Dack laughed. "He's the one who blew the thing up."
Mara hoped this guy wasn't Force-sensitive. She knew she hadn't shielded her surprise fast enough and just barely managed not to spit her drink out all over the table as it was.
"Really?"
"Oh, yeah. Luke's my roommate," he bragged. "Told me all about it."
Mara no longer had to feign interest as she memorized everything Dack told her about Luke Skywalker. The irony of the situation was not lost on her. She'd spent twenty years training in every known form of Imperial espionage, and the practice of 'engaging in mess hall conversation' had never once been mentioned.
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After three days of studying activity patterns inside the rebel base, Mara had decided that early morning was the best time to hack into the central computer. The tech on duty was easily distracted by a Force-generated power surge down the corridor and she slipped into the command center unnoticed.
The base's central computer system was jury-rigged from several antiquated pieces of Old Republic equipment. At the heart of the system, and the newest piece by at least 50 years, was an outdated Imperial RTT-7000 central processing unit. Mara smiled to herself as she sat down at the terminal and hit the required seven keys simultaneously.
The holoscreen before her went blank for a few seconds before it queried, "ENTER BLUENEK AUTHORIZATION CODE". Not even the galaxy's best slicers knew about the secret backdoor Palpatine had installed in every Imperial, and a nearly every private, computer network and system. She entered "AUTHORIZATION BLUENEK TWO SEVEN ITHOR FOUR NINE NABOO", and the computer listed a complete film map of the network. Finding the enlistment roster, she typed in the name "Skywalker", and was rewarded with two files flashing on the screen.
She pulled up the most recent file and Luke Skywalker's record appeared, complete with a holo. Slapping a datacard into the console, she studied his image as the file downloaded. He was young, probably close to her age, with blue eyes and unkempt hair. Not much to look at, she thought.
The short download complete, she pulled up the second "Skywalker" file. The screen flashed a garbled image and went blank. Whatever information had been there once was gone now, the data corrupted.
"Hey!" the tech had returned and was standing indignantly in the doorway. "What are you doing?"
Mara calmly removed the datacard and tucked it into a pouch on her belt.
The tech continued, "You're not authorized -"
THUD!
He bounced off the wall and collapsed, the bridge of his nose shattered into his brain. He'd never seen it coming. Mara dragged his body into a supply closet. She'd be long gone from the rebel base before anyone found him.
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Mara entered the main hangar wearing what had to be the ugliest flight suit she'd ever seen. She wasn't the type to concern herself with fashion, but orange? She rolled her eyes disgust, glad that this charade was almost over. Today was the first training mission for the squadron to which she'd been assigned. She quickly located her designated X-wing...right next to Skywalker's.
She recognized him immediately from the holo. Opening an access panel on her ship's hull, she pretended to make adjustments while watching Skywalker out of the corner of her eye. He would be targeted for capture as soon as the Empire discovered his identity, and Mara would not risk the humiliation of fingering the wrong man.
Vader had felt his presence above the Death Star and there was only one way to know for sure. Closing her eyes, she inhaled and stretched out with the Force. When she opened her eyes, Skywalker had lit up like a beacon, his Force signature pulsing with power.
Skywalker froze. Abruptly, he turned his head as if expecting to find someone behind him.
"Shavit!" Mara swore. Shielding her presence, she turned away and collided into Dack.
"Hey Alyssa," he grinned. "Ready to go?"
"You bet," she answered, smiling perhaps a bit too much.
He frowned. "You look nervous. Need some help?"
"No," she closed the panel on the hull. "I did sims all day yesterday. I'm good."
Securing her crash harness inside the cockpit, Mara ignored the training coordinates being relayed through her astromech droid. After that day, "Alyssa's" Alliance personnel file would indicate her status as A.W.O.L.
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A small light appeared on the console of the holoprojector in Vader's meditation chamber on board the Executor. It was more than enough to break his concentration, as the last couple of months had left him distracted. His thoughts still dwelled on the Rebel pilot, and his failure at Yavin. He gave the computer the necessary instructions for the replacement of his helmet, the apparatus sealing his helmet and mask with a vicious hiss, making him complete again. He pushed the lighted button on the console and waited. Seconds later, the transparent image of Admiral Ozzel appeared on the holoprojector viewer.
"Lord Vader, you have a notification of transmission on your private channel."
Vader felt an unfamiliar leap of his heart. Could it be? He hadn't expected Mara to return so soon. Was she able to find the identity of the young pilot so quickly? Surely it was so, as Mara Jade didn't return from important missions without complete success. It was not in her nature. "Send me the transmission, Admiral."
The image of Admiral Ozzel gave a slight nod. "Right away, my Lord." The holoprojector image faded.
The image of Mara Jade appeared on the holoviewer. "I have the information you requested, Master."
"Come to my quarters. The entry code is being transmitted." Vader relayed the code to Mara's datapad.
Mara moved silently through the corridors of the Executor, careful to stay in shadows. The Emperor had eyes and ears everywhere and it would not do for her to be seen entering her master's chamber.
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The door to Vader's chamber slid open and his lithe young apprentice came inside. She bowed at the waist and prepared to kneel, Vader stopped her with a wave of his hand. "You may dispense with pleasantries, my apprentice. Tell me what you have learned."
Mara stood. "Yes, Master. The pilot was a moisture farmer from Tatooine and new to the Rebellion. He was recruited by Princess Leia Organa. Apparently, he was one of the rebels who helped the princess escape from the Death Star."
Although the mention of his home planet was an unwanted reminder, Vader bristled visibly at the name "Leia Organa". She had perpetuated the attack on the Death Star by bringing the plans to the Rebellion. He had used a truth serum to gain the location of the stolen plans, but the stubborn princess had refused to give in. While he begrudgingly respected her courage and conviction, her traitorous nature had been the bane of his former supervisor, Grand Moff Tarkin. The events of that day had resulted in the destruction of her planet. While he more than likely couldn't have stopped Tarkin from the destruction of Alderaan, he felt it was a waste, and had earlier crossed the line of insubordination when speaking his thoughts on the matter.
If he had been the weak man he was in his former life, he would have been shattered by the useless destruction of an entire planet and the grief of the young girl. She had won a certain unwarranted respect from him with her dignified response to the travesty. As it was, he had made sure that her inclination to attack Tarkin physically was thwarted by holding her to him during the whole ordeal. It would have been suicide.
Vader turned his attention back to Mara, who waited patiently for the signal to go on. "His name?"
She removed the pirated datacard from her belt and inserted it into the viewer. The file holo and data appeared on screen, "His name is Luke Skywalker."
Darth Vader stared at the sandy-haired youth in the holo and struggled to find breath. Silence permeated the air, the hiss of Vader's breathing apparatus eerie in the quiet. Mara wondered briefly if it had malfunctioned.
She paused, assuming her master simply needed time to soak in the knowledge of the Rebel pilot who had cost him so much. She doubted that assumption almost immediately as a strange pressure began to build inside her head. Her master's hands, which had been resting on his knees, had balled themselves into dangerous looking fists. Involuntarily, she backed against the wall.
Vader's temper was infamous. In truth, having become closer to him, she realized the episodic loss of patience with subordinates was not as far as her master could be pushed. Choking a subordinate for their inadequacy as an officer was one thing, this seemed to be much different.
Static was building in the room, the almost crushing weight of the Force gathering around him, around them both. Instinct told her that she was about to witness the full wrath of Darth Vader. The pressure in her head was almost unbearable. A taste of blood filled her mouth as she inadvertently bit her tongue, fighting the urge to flee. She waited, not wanting to break protocol, and hoped that she hadn't been naive all these years about her master's ability to control himself. One never knew with the Dark Side.
Vader finally spoke, the dismissal short, "Go."
Mara turned and stumbled toward the door. She fled the chamber at a dead run as the walls started to shake.
Skywalker... the name roared through his mind like the sandstorms of the Tatooine dessert. He had not known. He was a Sith and he had not known, he seethed. His breathing finally regulated, he felt the storm subsiding around him as he digested the information his apprentice had just given him. Could it be? Had the traitorous Jedi somehow hidden his child from him? He would have given Obi-Wan much credit, but never with something like this.
He thought of his wife. Padme. The name was wrenched from somewhere inside of him. It came from a place that refused to let her be tainted by darkness. Guarded by someone he no longer knew, or cared to. This memory now held him captive, and he feared that it would rend his well-placed order and indifference into pieces. A voice from far inside him howled at the transgression, its secret now open and vulnerable, open to far more dangerous evils than his own.
Unbeknownst to him, she must have delivered the child in hiding. The direction his thoughts were going was treacherous. He forced himself to slow down and make sure he was shielding his thoughts. The Emperor would be aware of the disturbance in the Force if he were not careful. Luke Skywalker..., the name like a litany in his mind, a child's taunt. A moisture farmer on Tatooine... Had Padme left their child with the Lars family on Tatooine? He fought the compulsion to give voice to the thoughts whirling in his mind.
Apparently, he was one of the rebels who helped the princess escape from the Death Star. Obi-Wan. The boy had been with Obi-Wan. He vaguely remembered, through the haze of blaster fire, a young man standing at the foot of the rebel ship's landing ramp. Right in front of him.
A slow, burning desperation was building inside him. He must find his son.
