My, my, so many questions from the last chapter!
JumpinArabLuvr33: Will Luke & Mara go through with the wedding since they're so upset at each other? Welcome! So you don't think they'll kiss and make-up before the wedding?
Da Mess Maker: Are Luke and Mara going to complete the mission they were assigned or will they just return to HQ after their wedding? You're assuming they'll be able to get off the planet. You'll know by the end of book two.
Celtic Circle When they get back to the rebel head quarters I wonder how everyone is going to take Luke and Mara's marriage? And when are Liea and Han going to find out what Mara Jade really did when she was under the emporer's rein? How will they react? ― All will be answered in Book Three. So I hope you're patient. And welcome!
Mara look-a-like and Elessar-Lover: Thanks! Those villagers have quite a lot they can teach our heroes.
Here we go, one of my favorite chapters. And a couple questions may even be answered here.
A Journey of Discovery -- Book Two: Pledge
Chapter Eight
Mara wasn't at all sure where she was headed when she stormed away from Luke, only that she needed to put as much space between herself and that know-it-all Jedi as she could. The nerve of him, treating her like an insolent child. Why, he...
A melodious voice rang out. "Mara!"
Mara looked up to see a young woman stepping lightly through the snow, her blonde curls bouncing against her small shoulders.
"I was hopin' ye'd come to the Festival," the newcomer said, smiling gaily.
Mara eyed the vaguely familiar-looking girl suspiciously.
Nonplussed by Mara's apprehensive demeanor, the girl introduced herself. "I'm Aerie. Aerie Modesa. We met this mornin' when ye were helpin' Merta bring pies over."
"Oh, yes, of course," the redhead returned, as Luke's recent lecture on being friendly echoed in her mind.
"Is yer beau with ye?" Aerie continued, looking behind Mara. "I thought I might get to meet him."
"No, he's over there," Mara gestured over her shoulder with a grimace, "busy knocking down bottles."
Aerie laughed merrily. "Then he's at me husband Jaco's booth. Jaco runs the general goods shop with his brother, but he always puts up a stand fer the Festival." She leaned closer and grinned. "Those menfolk could spend all day fritterin' away their time at those games. I meself prefer somethin' with a little more action."
Mara looked at the young woman in surprise. "Such as?"
"Well, I was on me way over to the fishin' pond, to go glidin'."
"Gliding?" Mara noticed the pair of thin metal blades Aerie had slung over her shoulder.
"Aye. The pond is frozen o'er solid, and is near perfect fer ice glidin'. Would ye like to join me?"
"Yes, that sounds like fun," Mara consented. She wasn't sure exactly what ice gliding consisted of, but it had to beat wandering along, dwelling on her argument with Luke. So she and Aerie set off across the white-blanketed Festival grounds, pausing on their way to watch a group of children enthusiastically carving imaginative sculptures out of compacted snow.
"Look at that one!" Aerie grinned, pointing to an especially large figure. "Ain't that a sight?"
Mara squinted at the snowy effigy of some type of quadruped. "What is it supposed to be?"
Aerie gave her a strange look. "Why, it's a feraline," she said. "And a right good likeness. Don't tell me ye've never seen one."
Mara's mind raced. Obviously this was some common animal. Once again Luke's exhortation about fitting in sprang unbidden to her mind. "Yes, of course I have," she answered with a smile. "I meant, what do you think it's supposed to be doing?"
"Oh." Aerie didn't sound quite convinced by Mara's reply, but she let it pass. "Let's ask. Thal!" she called to one of the boys patting snow on a leg of the beast. "What is yer feraline doin'? Climbin' a hill?"
"No!" The buck-toothed boy of about twelve snorted indignantly. "It's about to attack a rishhare, and tear it limb from limb with its big teeth." The boy made an exaggerated roaring noise.
"Oh, my!" The blonde woman put a hand to her mouth in mock fright. "How dangerous!"
"Aye, so ye better watch out!" Thal growled, pawing his hand in the air before turning back to his handiwork.
"Charming lad," Mara commented dryly, as the two women resumed their trek to the outskirts of the village.
"Humph." Aerie smirked in agreement. "That one's a scalawag, fer sure. Ahh, here we be."
Mara looked ahead to see a moderate-sized body of water, its surface completely frozen. Strings of colored streamers decorated oil lamps set on high posts surrounding the pond, casting colorful reflections across the frosty expanse. Young and old observers alike crowded on wooden benches, taking advantage of the unobstructed view of the swirling action.
Aerie immediately struck up conversations with several Festival visitors, each of them greeting Mara warmly. Offers to lend the newcomer a pair of blades appeared from all directions. Before she knew it, the redhead was gliding across the ice; both the Force and her own natural ability made keeping her balance effortless.
Mara had witnessed various forms of turbo-skating over the years, all on artificial rinks, and had even had the opportunity to go turbo-skiing once at Imperial Center's polar region. But neither compared to the soothing relaxation of leisurely sweeping along on the smooth, icy surface. Even warm-weather-loving Luke would enjoy this, Mara thought suddenly, a sense of emptiness creeping into her being that he was not beside her.
Mara glanced aside as Aerie flew past, her gleeful laughter betraying her unfettered delight. Suddenly the young blonde spun to an abrupt halt, shards of ice flying, as a shrill voice screeched her name from the bank.
"Aerie Modesa! What in stars' sake do ye think yer doin!"
Mara noted a thin, long-faced woman glaring harshly at her companion.
"Me Aunt Pit," Aerie whispered, as she slowly glided toward the elder woman.
"Have ye no sense at all rattlin' 'round in that empty head of yers?" the dowager ranted.
"I'm doin' just fine, Auntie." Aerie tried to reassure her over-protective relative. "I been glidin' since I could walk."
"Ye've got more than yerself to think of now, child. Ye can't be takin' risks like this."
"I won't fall," the younger woman declared emphatically, her mouth set in grim determination. "I'm just with child, not an invalid," she called behind her as she resumed her graceful motions.
Keeping up with her new friend's steady pace, Mara gave a wide-eyed sweeping gaze at Aerie's figure, which was swathed with heavy clothing. "You're pregnant?"
"Aye." The bubbly blonde smiled broadly, the cold, brisk wind reddening her cheeks. "I'm just over halfway along."
"Your first?" Mara asked, berating herself for not noticing.
Aerie nodded affirmatively. "Jaco and me were bonded at the last Festival." She gave Mara a sly sideways grin, then turned and began gliding backwards. "Perhaps ye'll be expectin' a wee one this time next year?"
"Oh, I don't think—" Suddenly Mara's danger sense flared. A small girl flew toward them, her concentration directed toward keeping her balance rather than watching out for others. Aerie cried out as she collided with the youngster, and a hard fall seemed inevitable, until an invisible force reached out to steady them both.
"Are you all right?" Mara questioned worriedly, as she quickly clasped Aerie by the elbow.
"Aye," the blonde murmured in relief and confusion. A quick check satisfied everyone that the little girl was also unharmed, and was now on her way to face the reprimanding tongue of her mother.
"Come, let's rest a bit," Mara advised, guiding her friend over to an unoccupied bench along the bank.
"I know I shouldna' been glidin' backwards, but, Mara," Aerie turned wide-eyed to her companion, "it was like a spirit held me up! Just before ye touched me, I could feel... somethin'... keepin' me from fallin'."
"Maybe you're just better at balancing yourself than you thought." Mara was hoping to dissuade her friend from the idea of mysterious spirits. These people were superstitious enough as it was, without the Force being involved too.
"Maybe," Aerie agreed, although a doubtful frown still filled her expression before she shook it off. "I think I've had me fill of glidin' tonight. What say we go taste some sweets, 'fore me Auntie gets wind of me nearly breakin' me stubborn neck?"
"Sure," Mara replied, already slipping off her blades. "I've worked up an appetite anyway."
"Oh, me too! But then, I'm always hungry now." Aerie patted her abdomen with a laugh, and after returning Mara's borrowed blades, the two set off for a nearby brightly lit building.
―――
Nearly two hours later, Mara had bid Aerie goodnight and was headed back toward Merta's inn, her head swirling with jumbled thoughts as she automatically exchanged greetings with those she passed. Though she had, surprisingly enough, enjoyed her time with the effervescent Aerie Modesa, the image of Luke's pained expression at the gaming booth never left her mind. Arguing with each other had become somewhat of a pastime for the two of them over the last couple months, and getting engaged apparently had not dissolved that tendency. But this was the first time she could remember regretting her sharp rebukes.
All evening, every passing sight of a man and a woman gliding across the ice arm in arm, or stuffing flavorful treats in each other's mouths, had made her long to share those experiences with Luke. She didn't need to consciously reach out with the Force to know he hadn't returned to the inn yet, and she refrained from using their bond to check on his whereabouts. Discovering he was currently involved in, or worse yet, delighting in, some macho competitive diversion would do nothing to improve her melancholy mood, she decided. Especially when she herself knew no rivals in the realm of competitiveness.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
It was just as well Mara hadn't used the Force to eavesdrop on her fiancé, since at that moment Luke was indeed vying in a boisterous contest of skill. For the first hour after Mara's resentful, indignant departure, he both brooded over their argument and reflected on the other men's well-meaning assertions as to the underlying cause of their bickering. Hiley, Efam, and the rest of the group took note of Luke's dispirited demeanor and endeavored, successfully, to include him in their merry-making. After making the rounds at the various gaming booths, which netted the Jedi a sizable collection of dekas, the group moved to the Lucky Red Bone Pub. There the contest of choice consisted of hurling small metal projectiles at concentric circles painted on a large board hanging on one wall. These tackdarts, as they were called, were small stylus-shaped picks, sharpened to a keen point, with brightly-colored feathers added for balance.
Luke had tossed his share of photon darts over the years ― a favorite pastime in pilots' lounges and second-rate bars. Even Fixer had had an old tracedart game in the back room of Tosche Station. Tackdarts turned out to be merely a primitive version of the same thing.
Luke's ability to hit the center circle with every throw earned him both the admiration of his fellow competitors, and an even heavier pocketful of the local currency. That the admiration didn't turn into envy Luke attributed to two facts ― that he would only be in Zembuhl a few more days, and, of course, his upcoming bonding.
Finally, though, the Jedi felt compelled to call a halt to his consistent winning streak. The locals, however, wouldn't hear of letting him sit on the sidelines. Instead, they began wagering amongst themselves as to how many perfect throws Luke could make in a row.
The young soon-to-be newlywed sat waiting while Efam collected the latest round of bets. Luke raised his mug for another swallow, and realized he had already finished it. He stared at the bottom of the empty tankard. How many of these did I drink? he thought. Five? Six? And that was just since the group had adjourned to the Red Bone. He vaguely remembered having several refills back at the festival booths.
"We're ready, lad," Hiley announced, gesturing toward the target. "I've got ye pegged fer sixteen more perfect tosses, so don't ye be lettin' me down."
Luke stood, a bit shakily, and took the quartet of tackdarts he was handed. Taking a deep breath to steady his hand... When had he ever had to consciously steady his hand?... Luke let loose the volley in rapid succession. Four bull's-eyes. Just like shooting womprats...
Efam stepped forward to refill the Jedi's tankard.
"No, no thanks." Luke waved him off. "I've had enough." More than enough, he thought, as he prepared to throw again.
"Just six more, Luke!" called out Jaco, who had relinquished temporary management of his gaming booth to his cousin.
"No, eight," put in Gerd, his wrinkled face grinning in anticipation of a substantial payoff.
"Let the lad concentrate," Hiley ordered the others, before quietly adding aside to Luke, "A dozen more, son."
Luke nodded as he toed the mark on the worn floor. He wouldn't deliberately favor anyone's wagered number. He knew from past rounds the men would simply put down new bets on higher guesses when he surpassed their current speculations.
The blond youth squinted as he eyed the gameboard. Why did it seem a little blurry? No matter, he could do this with his eyes closed. He reached back, then let go. Bull's-eye again. Just barely. As he rolled the second tackdart in his fingers, Luke had an odd, queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Had he eaten something that didn't agree with him? Come to think of it, had he eaten anything at all this evening?
"Ye gonna throw that thing?" someone called out from a corner of the room.
Luke blinked again, and the dart left his hand. His head rather hurt, too, he reflected, as he braced himself for the clapping that had been accompanying every toss for the last hour. But silence filled the room.
"He missed," someone near him whispered. Luke turned to look at the speaker, then moved slowly to peer at the target. The tackdart had caught only the edge of the outermost circle. He had missed!
A lone cheer suddenly issued from a ruddy-faced farmer perched near the bar. "I win! A hunnard and fourteen bull's-eyes! I win the pot!"
Luke slowly sat as Efam counted out the farmer's winnings. He had actually missed! How pompous had he been, thinking he could never fail to hit the center? True, he hadn't been actively using the Force. That would be cheating. But he had always had excellent aim, even before he'd ever heard of the Force. In fact, his past contests with both fellow Tatooine cohorts and Rebel pilots usually evolved into Luke competing against himself, as no one cared to risk their credits on the slim chance of beating him.
The Jedi looked up as he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm headin' back to the inn," Gerd said quietly. "If yer ready, I thought we could walk together."
The prospect of returning to the inn suddenly seemed very inviting. Luke and Gerd exited the pub, the frigid night air assaulting the younger man's senses and noticeably reviving him. As he walked beside the elderly gentleman, Luke's thoughts turned once more to Mara, as they had throughout the evening. Would she be in their room when he got there? Would she accept his apology? What had she been doing, while he'd been competing in the segregated contests? Luke had reached out for her through the Force not long after she had stalked off. He had felt she had been enjoying herself, whatever she was doing, until she took note of his eavesdropping. Mara had slammed up her barriers tightly at that. He probably could have breached the wall, if he'd really wanted to, but had decided it wasn't in his best interest to do so.
Gerd broke into Luke's musings. "Here we be, lad."
The Jedi's step slowed as they entered the warmth of the boarding house. Gerd bid his farewell as he headed to his own room, and for the first time since his arrival, Luke used the railing to pull himself up the stairway.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Mara had already changed into her nightgown and was stoking the flames in the old fireplace when she felt Luke's presence appear downstairs. A presence that, oddly enough, felt rather cloudy. An inordinate amount of time later, the door to their quarters creaked open, and she looked up to watch Luke shuffle in quietly. Arms hanging at his side, he stood just to the right of the door, as if he wanted to dissolve into the wall he was leaning against.
Mara finally broke the silence, all thoughts of renewing their argument suddenly unimportant. "Hello."
"Hi," Luke croaked, and his slight form seemed to shrink into the heavy coat he wore. Mara thought he looked... vulnerable.
"Are you all right?" she asked, stepping closer to perceive his features in the shadows. "You look a little... green."
"I'm... okay," Luke stammered, though he felt just the opposite.
Mara drew within a dozen centimeters of him, and her eyes widened as she sniffed suspiciously. "Are you drunk?" she blurted out in accusation.
"No!" Luke denied. "I shust... just... feel... really sick." Without warning, he bolted for the refresher.
Mara's jaw dropped, then she hurried to follow, stopping short as her eyes fell on her fiancé, kneeling on the floor and retching miserably into one of the metal buckets.
"Luke!" Mara pumped some cool water onto a small cloth. After helping him shrug off his coat, she tenderly wiped at his sweat-beaded forehead.
"What have you done to yourself?" she scolded, though her voice was gentle and soothing.
Luke shook his head, and winced at the movement. "I guess... I drank... too mush... much... ale." The words were barely out when a second round of nausea hit him, and Mara brushed back his hair as he made use of the bucket once more.
"So, Skywalker, you are human after all," she chided softly.
He raised bleary eyes to her. "I'm... sorry," he moaned.
"Shhhh." She filled a glass with water and handed it to him with the order, "Rinse." He didn't need to be told twice.
"Better?" she asked, and he gave a silent nod. Mara went into the outer room, then returned moments later wearing boots and a coat over her gown. Luke gave her a quizzical look until she started to pick up the bucket, then he laid a hand on her arm.
"I'll... I'll take care of that."
"Nonsense," she countered. "You've been taking all the turns with the chamberpot. Besides...," she leaned over and kissed his temple, "I wouldn't trust you not to fall down the steps."
Mara paused by the doorway as Luke rose to his feet. "I'll expect you to be in bed when I get back."
He nodded once more, and Mara was relieved to see his color already returning to normal.
―――――
When Mara re-entered their room a short time later, she frowned as she noted Luke had not followed her last instruction. He had donned his sleep pants and a thin homespun shirt, but was now sitting cross-legged on a braided rug next to the bed, apparently meditating. He opened his eyes and looked up as Mara drew close.
"What are you doing?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. "You should be in bed sleeping."
"Sleeping... it off?" He cocked an eyebrow in amusement. "I'm... cleansing... the alcohol from my body," he went on, taking his time to enunciate each word. "Yoda showed me how to do this... for poisoning. I'm hoping... the same principle... will apply."
"Is it working?"
"I... can't tell yet."
Mara hung her coat on a hook behind the door and pulled off her boots. "May I follow what you're doing, to learn the technique, too?"
"Of course." He scooted over to make room for her on the rug. "Though I can't imagine... you being foolish enough... to over-imbibe."
"Oh, I don't know." Mara winked. "Being married to you may drive me to drinking."
"I shertain... certainy..." Luke stammered, his expression one of embarrassment as he stumbled over the word, "... hope not."
Mara chuckled aloud at his slip. "Keep cleansing, Jedi." She matched his position and clasped one of his hands, then effortlessly reached into their Force link to follow Luke's methodic eradicating of the alcohol molecules from his system.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
It was more than an hour later when Luke again opened his eyes, feeling more fatigued than refreshed, but relieved that he could sense no lingering effects of the ale. Still clutching Mara's hand, he straightened his stiff legs and leaned back against the side of the bed. Almost simultaneously, Mara also stirred and gracefully stretched her muscles. She turned her head and smiled as Luke began speaking in a much more controlled voice.
"I can't believe I let that happen." He sighed wearily, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. "That has got to be the most humiliating spectacle I've made of myself in ages. And right in front of you, yet."
"Must be why they add that 'whether healthy or ill' part in the vows," Mara said with a snicker. "You never know how your partner may drag through the door."
Luke groaned in renewed chagrin.
She reached out and stroked his cheek. "They say every experience is a learning experience." She gave him a gentle kiss as he turned in her direction. "Did you learn anything?"
"Never to drink anymore of Efam's brew," he vowed. "That stuff has got to be ten times more potent than lomin ale."
Mara arched an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.
"I learned... I like having you take care of me," he added in a soft whisper. "I love you, Mara, and I need you."
"That's better. And perhaps someday," she added with a sly grin, "I'll get to return the favor... with bouts of morning sickness."
Luke sat up and stared in dumbfounded bewilderment at her, caught off guard by her last words. "Wh... what?"
She shrugged in casual indifference. "You never know."
He narrowed his eyes as he mulled over her uncharacteristic attitude. "Is there something we need to discuss?"
"Not yet!" Mara laughed sharply. "Last I checked, farmboy, you can't get a girl pregnant just by thinking about having sex with her."
"But you're not opposed to having children, eventually?" Luke had been renewing, in recent days, his old dreams of someday having a family of his own. He hadn't even considered that Mara might have other ideas.
"Eventually," she replied, vanquishing his fears. "Just give me time to get used to being a wife first. I can't remember ever being around a normal family. I think the idea of becoming parents is something we both need to ease into gradually."
Luke nodded in agreement, then worked his mouth awkwardly as he tried to formulate his next question. "So don't you think... I mean,... we need to take, er... plan..."
Mara smiled to herself at his nervousness. "You think we should talk about prevention meds."
"Exactly. We don't know if they even have such a thing here."
"You don't have to worry," she assured him. "I'm already using them."
"You are?" A mixture of relief and confusion settled in the pit of his stomach.
She squeezed his hand warmly. "For several years now. As soon as I started going out on missions, the Emperor sent me to his personal physician to make sure I was covered. Guess a pregnant assassin wouldn't have been very efficient." Feeling his growing concern, she went on. "Sometimes my... assignments... would involve luring men to their bedrooms, where they would let their guard down. Among other things," she added, laughing.
"But—"
"Don't worry. Nothing ever happened. I never let it get that far."
Luke let go of his bride-to-be's hand, instead putting his arm around her and hugging her close. He tried not to think about what Mara most likely did to permanently end each unwanted advance. "But, Mara," he continued, a nagging concern still clinging to his thoughts. "When we were together, in that suite in the palace, you told me Palpatine was hoping that you and I would... that we'd conceive a child. How...?"
"I was ordered to discontinue the meds then. They even gave me a fertility drug. I went back to using contraception afterwards, from one of your Emdee droids."
"Surely you didn't think we'd be sending you on assignments where there would be a chance..."
"No," she interrupted him softly. "I didn't think that."
Luke paused, as the implications of what she said sank in. "You thought maybe I would..." he trailed off. Had she been afraid that he would, or hoping that he would?
"I could never be afraid of you, Luke," she murmured, reading his thoughts.
"Guess I've been a disappointment," he mumbled, biting his lower lip.
"No, Luke, never think that." She hugged him fiercely. "I love you. You could never disappoint me."
He returned her embrace, and added a kiss. "Just remember that on our wedding night," he said wryly. He leaned back against the bed once more, Mara's head nestled on his shoulder. "I'm sorry about that argument we had at the Festival," he murmured after a few moments of silence. "I know being here is hard on you."
"Luke, you already apologized, unnecessarily, for our being stranded here." She raised her head and looked him in the eye. "You cannot keep taking the blame every time something goes wrong. Besides," she added, laying her head back on his shoulder, "I'm rather getting used to some of the customs and activities these people engage in."
"Really?" He leisurely stroked her hair, marveling not for the first time at its softness. "So what did you do this evening to keep busy, without me around to pester you?"
"Well, I stayed sober, for one thing." When he refused to reply to her teasing, she continued. "I went ice-gliding, with a friend."
"You found a friend here?" Luke queried suspiciously.
"Yes. Is that so hard to believe?"
"No, no," he backtracked hurriedly. "Go on."
"And then we sampled every sweet treat we could lay our hands on." Mara giggled at the memory. "Aerie really is a nice person, and she's expecting a baby, too."
"Ahh, so that's what brought that up..." Luke stopped when Mara elbowed him. He felt a certain amount of relief that this friend turned out to be a 'she.' He thought about the new friends he had made that evening as well, and then furrowed his brow in contemplation. "This Aerie, her last name wouldn't be Modesa, would it?"
"Yes." Mara raised her head in surprise. "How did you know?"
"I met her husband tonight. He was the fellow running that abhorrent males-only booth with the bottles to knock over."
"Yes, she told me."
"He turned out to be quite likeable, and very excited at the prospect of being a new father."
"I'm sure," she chortled dryly. "And what did you do to occupy yourself, besides tipping mugs of ale?"
Luke groaned to himself. She would never let him live that down. "Nothing interesting."
"Luke..."
He exhaled in resignation. "We tried out all the games at the Festival, then went back to the pub, and..."
"And what?"
"Threw tackdarts."
"Which are...?"
"Like photon darts, without the photons."
"Oh." She loved competing with photon darts, and knew that Luke was well aware of that fact. She could easily sense his regret that she wasn't able to join him at the contest, and graciously took it easy on him. "So did you win?"
Luke started to answer, then paused. Suddenly he sat up a little straighter and puffed out his chest with an exaggerated swagger. "Hey, it's me," he gloated. "You don't really think I could be beaten, do you? Even half-drunk?"
Mara laughed loudly as she pushed him over onto the floor. "I think you're still half-drunk! I suppose we can buy this whole village with the vast fortune you won."
"Of course..." Luke stopped and rolled to his knees, gawking around the room. "That reminds me, I wanted to show you something. Where's my coat?"
"Probably still in the 'fresher." Mara watched in confusion as Luke hopped up and scurried into the refresher, returning with his hand digging into the deep pockets of the old coat.
"Look at this." He thrust a handful of coins into her outstretched palm.
Mara turned one of the coins over, not sure what he was referring to.
"It's a deka," Luke pointed out.
"I gathered that much," she retorted. "So?"
"Look at the symbol on the back," he went on, his excitement obvious in his voice.
Mara flipped the deka to its reverse side, and studied the vaguely familiar emblem. "I've seen this before, I'm sure. I just can't..."
"It's the mark of the Old Republic!" Luke knelt back beside her, fidgeting with exuberance at his discovery.
Mara glanced at his flushed face, then squinted once more in the dim light at the enigma in her hand. "I'm sure you have some theory dreamed up for this, so you might as well spit it out," she groused, as she thought up and rejected several explanations in her own mind.
"Don't you see?" He pulled out a coin for himself. "This proves that this planet has ties to the rest of the galaxy."
"But these people have never heard of Coruscant, or any other planet. They don't even know there is such a thing as space travel," Mara objected.
"These people don't, but their ancestors had to." Luke's eyes sparkled as he outlined his hypothesis. "I think centuries ago, maybe even a millennia, settlers started a colony on this planet, and have been cut off from the rest of the galaxy ever since."
"But even so, they had to arrive in a ship. They had to come from another planet somewhere."
"That had me puzzled, too, but then I started learning the family names of some of the villagers, and several of them sounded familiar. I think I even recognized the name Zembuhl when I first heard it."
"Go on." The name of the village had tugged at her mind also, but she hadn't thought it significant enough to mention.
"I remember reading in school about a group of dissidents, around five hundred years ago, who rejected everything associated with modern civilization. They were quite radical; didn't believe in any kind of technology. They formed a kind of cult, and included several prominent citizens ― Lenzel, Zuleta, Abera, Modesa..." He rocked back on his heels. "Hiley Lenzel, Efam Zuleta, Jaco Modesa..."
"Merta's last name is Abera, and she did tell me her family has been here twenty generations, which could be around five hundred years," Mara put in, her voice laced with wonder. "And Zembuhl..."
"Was the leader of the cult," Luke finished. "I remember the group disappeared without a trace. Some thought they'd all committed suicide. I think, somehow, they found this planet, and put down roots."
"But the villagers should still be aware of..."
"Not if the original members made a pact never to pass down any knowledge of the galaxy to their children," Luke reasoned.
"But they're using a Republican symbol on their coins. That wouldn't make sense."
Luke shrugged. "Maybe someone years ago accidentally saw it on something, and no one even knew what it stood for anymore."
Mara nodded slowly in agreement. "After the founders died off, the succeeding generations would have no way to even suspect there were beings on other planets." She pursed her lips in thought. "But surely they would eventually evolve, on their own, to..."
"We don't know how primitively the first group lived. It's possible that they have been progressing at a natural rate."
"And the ship they first arrived in?"
"Most likely destroyed, to prevent anyone from changing their mind."
"What planet was this Zembuhl from?" Mara asked, trying to link all the clues together. "Somewhere with humans that spoke Basic, I take it?"
Luke searched his memory. "Mosigori, I think. Most of the group was from there..." he trailed off, as another thought struck him. "In fact, we had a pilot in Green Wing from Mosigori ― Wal Gypend ― and he had a similar accent." He looked up, grinning. "As a veteran of Green Wing, perhaps you remember him, Lieutenant Maiwara?"
"Very funny, flyboy." Mara stuck out her tongue at Luke for bringing up the fake identity she'd used the first day she met him, deep in an Imperial prison cell. "Speaking of accents, Aerie told me I talk funny."
"No funnier than me." Luke laughed. "Yeah, I've gotten some comments about my speech, too."
Mara leaned back, contemplating the possibilities. "So you think we're the first people to land here in five centuries?"
"This planet wasn't on any star charts, didn't even show up on the scopes until we were practically on top of it. We only stumbled on it because I could sense it through the Force. I doubt many ships ever venture into this nebula."
"If the founders wanted a good hiding place, they certainly found it." She looked up at Luke's self-satisfied smirk, his confidence shining through that they had solved the mystery of their hosts. "The only question I have is, how did you recall all these details? I had galactic history lessons too, from the best tutors, but I didn't remember all those names and other particulars."
He gave her an easy smile. "You probably weren't starved for information growing up like I was. I soaked up every scrap of knowledge I could lay my hands on. And the idea that a whole group of men and women would reject the very things I was dying to experience ― well, I guess that just stuck with me."
"So now what do we do, after we leave here? Who should we tell? And how do you propose we let these villagers know about the rest of the galaxy?"
Luke frowned in consternation. "I don't think we should tell anyone, here or anywhere else."
"But, Luke..."
"These people are happy here. They're satisfied with their lives." He shook his head. "They've never known war or suppression. Their biggest problem is whether someone will get bonded so they can have a good harvest. Mara, if we introduce them to the rest of civilization, they could lose all that."
"I see your point, though I'm not sure I agree." She bit her lip, contemplating his reasoning. "They would have relatives who may be interested in learning what happened to their ancestors."
"Relatives twenty generations removed," he reminded her.
Mara finally exhaled in acquiescence. "Okay, I'll yield to your wisdom, just this once." She wagged her finger at him before leaning back into his embrace.
"I've been meaning to ask you something," Mara suddenly spoke up a few minutes later, though she didn't loosen her hold around his waist.
"Hmmm?"
"Are Alliance pilots allowed to get married? It's generally frowned upon, for Imperial pilots. Supposedly it decreases their efficiency in combat. I've even heard tales of men being executed for getting married without permission." She raised her head, watching his face as he answered.
"I don't think they'll take me out and shoot me," he joked, but there was no mirth in his eyes. It still pained him to remember how Palpatine had subjugated Mara to service in that brutal regime. He drew up his knees and held her a little tighter as he continued. "It's not encouraged for pilots to have families, but it's not forbidden either. During the war many troopers had spouses and children left behind at home. Sometimes, I think they were the ones who fought the hardest, because they had the most to lose."
"So there won't be any flak when we return?"
Luke gave a light chuckle. "Only if I can't manage to salvage this Lorrd mission." He sighed quietly. "It's not actually going to matter, anyway."
"Why not?" she asked curiously.
"Because I'm going to resign from the military when we return. I had already decided that before we left."
Mara abruptly sat up, startled by his unexpected announcement. "You are? Don't you think this is something we should discuss together?"
"Did you want me to stay in the squadron?"
"No, not really. I've been surprised you've stayed this long. I just thought..."
"I wasn't keeping it a secret, though I haven't told anyone else." Luke trailed one hand suggestively over her slim shoulder and down her arm. "I've just had other things on my mind lately."
She swatted his hand away in feigned impatience and got back to the business at hand. "You're straying off course here. What are you going to do if you're not working for the Alliance?"
Luke shifted a little before answering. "I had intended to go off on my own, and do some Jedi research. But... this is our future now, not just mine." He paused hesitantly. "What do you think? What do you want to do?"
Mara leaned over and kissed him lightly. "I want to share your life, Luke, share in the joys of new discoveries and the frustrations of disappointments. You've been putting the Jedi side of you on hold for too long. Besides, spending more time out in the galaxy, away from Coruscant, sounds very appealing." She raised his hand to her lips and kissed it softly. "So what kind of research are we going to do?"
Luke stroked her cheek lightly. "Oh, look for anything about the Jedi of the Old Republic. Hidden records, maybe a treasure chest full of training manuals," he said with a wink.
"Sweetheart, I'm afraid the Emperor was pretty thorough in destroying everything."
"Hmmm." Luke pulled her closer. "I like the sound of that."
Mara cupped his chin before he could return a kiss. "You like the sound of Palpatine destroying Jedi records?"
"No." He broke free to descend on her mouth, his hand running up and down her back. "I like hearing you call me sweetheart."
"Humph." Mara gave a weak protest as he began nuzzling her neck. "I might be able to get into some of the Emperor's private files," she went on, determined to keep the conversation on track. "We'd be able to eliminate locations where the purges were complete."
"That would be helpful," Luke whispered in her ear, nibbling on it at the same time.
"Maybe we'd even be... able... to..." Mara let out a small moan as Luke's hands roamed over her body.
"Able to what?" Luke wanted to prove he was paying attention. Those split concentration exercises were finally coming in handy.
"To find locations on his agenda that... he hadn't... gotten to... yet..." A ragged breath escaped Mara. Why hadn't she paid more attention when he'd nagged her about practicing split concentration? "Didn't you want to talk about Jedi research?" she managed to get out.
"Later." Luke devoured her mouth with his own as one hand tentatively edged up under her nightgown.
(I thought you wanted to wait until we were married,) Mara sent, somewhat reluctantly.
Luke stopped abruptly. "I..." He pulled back, breathing heavily as waves of discomfort flowed through him. "I'm sorry, Mara." He looked deep into her sparkling emerald eyes. "I just... can't help..."
Mara grabbed his hand back, kissing his palm tenderly. "Luke, don't ever apologize for wanting me."
He pulled her tightly against him, smothering her with an unabashed embrace. "I don't deserve you," he whispered, burying his head in her silky hair.
"Be that as it may..." She managed to pull back enough to kiss his forehead. "You've got me, and you're stuck with me. Now," she cracked a smirk, "I think it's time we went to bed."
Luke allowed her to wriggle free, and they helped each other to their feet. "And that's supposed to get my mind off of sex?" he groused, as they slipped under the down-filled comforter. "With you lying next to me, all warm and soft..."
Mara scooted back a bit, breaking contact with his body. "You just have to not think of me like that. For two more nights, anyway." She grinned to herself as he buried his head in a pillow. "Concentrate on some repulsive image of me."
Luke turned his head enough to stare at her with one eye. "You're joking, right? There is no such thing."
"Of course there is. Everybody has some unattractive attribute."
He narrowed his eye suspiciously. "I suppose you've already got some disgusting image of me running through your head."
"Well..." she drawled. "You were kind enough to let me witness you puking into a bucket. That wasn't exactly a turn-on."
"Glad I could oblige," he deadpanned, his voice muffled once more by the pillow. "But I'm not sure even that would work in your case."
Mara turned on her back, staring at the flames reflecting off the ceiling and feeling Luke's struggle to dampen down his yearnings. She wasn't at all sure she could resist, either, if he were any closer.
"I have a terrible temper," she said, finally coming up with an idea. "Picture me having an angry fit."
"You're beautiful when you're angry," he muttered.
"You...," Mara hissed. "All right, remember when we waded through the sewers, and I got that sludge all over my feet. There was nothing appealing about that."
"But it made you angry," Luke countered. "And you're beautiful when..."
"Okay, okay." This was exasperating. "Think about when I stalked you at Jabba's, and how much I wanted to kill you."
"You are dangerous," Luke acknowledged with a feral grin. "Wild. Exciting." He rose up on one elbow and stroked her face. "Provocative. Tantalizing..."
"Skywalker!" She swatted him away, then fell back on the bed in a huff. "Maybe you should just think about yourself, spitting out those last dregs of—"
"Mara, this isn't going to work," he interrupted, having no intention of resorting to picturing his bout of nausea that evening.
"Do you have another solution?" she asked softly. "Other than going ahead and..."
"No," he whispered, rolling to face away from her.
Mara stared at the thin material of his shirt, now plastered to his clammy skin. "Luke?"
"Yes?" his motionless form returned.
"Why... have you never made love to a woman before?"
Luke was silent several moments before replying. "I hadn't met the right woman until I met you. It just never seemed..." He turned over once more to gaze at her lovely features in the flickering shadows. "You complete me. No one else ever came close, not in the way I'd always imagined lovers should be."
"What compelled you to suggest that we wait until our wedding?"
"I suppose," he began slowly, "it was something my uncle said to me once."
"Your Uncle Owen?" Mara blinked in surprise. "I thought all he did was scold you."
"Mostly, but this was one lecture that stuck with me. Maybe because for once he delivered it without raising his voice." Luke thought back in fond recollection. "When I was about fifteen or sixteen, there was another boy in Anchorhead who had gotten his girlfriend pregnant. Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru were discussing it over dinner, saying how the boy should have had more respect for the girl. I'm sure I must have made some condescending remark, about how that particular girl had never gone out of her way to earn any respect. Well, Uncle Owen very slowly laid down his fork and stared at me, and I knew I was in for it, again."
Luke rolled on his back, then reached over in the darkness and clasped Mara's hand. "He had me follow him outside, and we sat there in silence, watching the suns set. When he finally spoke, it was in this low, solemn voice I'd never heard him use before. He told me that all women were due the utmost consideration, no matter what. He said he understood how young men got... cravings... but that the act of sharing one's self, one's body, with a young lady was one of the most special things in the universe, and that it was paramount to make sure it was the right young lady. Anything less would only be shallow gratification. I can remember his next words verbatim ― 'Luke,' he said, 'the most honorable compliment you can bestow on a woman is to make love to her after you've made your commitment of lifelong love to her.'"
Luke squeezed Mara's hand lovingly in the stillness of the room. "So when any of the guys tried to 'fix me up,' Uncle Owen's words would come back to me, and I would just know... that this wasn't the right girl for me."
"I'm glad you waited... for me," Mara murmured quietly.
"So am I," he whispered back. "Though I used to wonder if Uncle Owen's real motive was to prevent me from passing along any Force-strong genes through an unsuspecting girl."
"You were lucky, Luke, to have two people who cared for you so much."
"I know," he returned. "I only wish I had appreciated them more, before I lost them." He pushed an errant strand of red-gold hair away from Mara's somber face. "I'm sorry you never had parents or guardians like them when you were growing up."
Mara nodded in appreciation of his sensitivity. "All we can do is to make sure our children receive the best guidance we can offer."
"They will," he assured her. "Now what about you?" His voice lifted in spirit. "Didn't you have handsome men drooling over you? Besides the ones you were assigned to... eliminate. I know I've observed several of the pilots looking you up and down."
"Humph." Mara snorted. "Only until they see you giving them the 'evil eye.' No, no one ever interested me enough to consider sleeping with him, until you came along. Must be that farmboy innocence."
"Must be." Luke yawned sleepily. "Have we talked half the night?"
"Wasn't that the plan?" Mara stifled a yawn herself. "Keep talking till we're too tired to do anything else?"
"I think it nearly worked." Luke pulled her close and gave her a soft kiss. "Goodnight, my love."
"Goodnight, Luke. I love you." Mara listened as Luke's quiet breathing settled into the peaceful rhythm of slumber. She could never thank the stars enough for giving her this exceptional man. He filled her empty soul like rare Alderaanian wine would fill an empty goblet. Would she ever feel worthy of his love?
