She focused all of her attention on the hovering remote, her lightsaber
poised to block, concentrating all of her senses on discovering what it
would do next, where, it would go, what it would strike..
An image came to her mind, unbidden, of Luke and an unfamiliar woman embracing..
Mara's concentration shattered, and the remote chose that moment to spin in and shock her in the thigh. She swore. With an angry snarl, she swatted the remote out of the air with the pommel of her lightsaber, and it spun across the room to crash into the wall. She deactivated her saber, and threw it over to join it.
She allowed herself to collapse to her knees on the foam mat of the practice room. She hugged herself tightly, despair welling through her, but she did not allow herself to cry. Get a hold of yourself, Jade, she ordered sternly. You've been here before. You've lived through it.
But this is different, her heart cried. This is more..
She turned away from that part of herself. Since she and Luke had.. She shook her head. Since she had met Luke, she had slowly shaken off the part of herself that was cold and callous, discarding it like a reptile discards its outgrown skins. Now, since yesterday's events, she had found herself slowly creeping back into that part of herself. It protects me, she told herself fiercely. It keeps me from feeling the pain..
It also keeps me from feeling the Force.
She took a deep breath. This was ridiculous. She had to get a hold of herself. She had received a terrible shock yesterday, but she had to remind herself that it had doubtlessly been ten times worse for Luke. She had to talk to him.
You tried to last night, a small voice inside of her piped up, but he wouldn't even look at you.
"Shut up," she told herself. "Shut up and find Luke. He needs you." Her eyes misted briefly with tears, but she dashed them away impatiently. She reached out gingerly with the Force and felt Luke's presence, a burning brand in her mind. She brushed against him gently. ::Luke?::
Abruptly, all sense of him was cut off.
She suddenly felt very cold and alone. Her first instinct was to curl up in a ball and dissolve into tears, but she shook her head and climbed to her feet determinedly. "All right, farmboy," she muttered, retrieving her lightsaber from the floor and clipping it to her belt, "if that's the way you want to play it.."
* * *
Fayrelle awoke to the dim light of her cell. She had no windows, and they hadn't given her a chrono, so she couldn't tell what time of day it was. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. She was very tired; she wondered what had woken her.
::Fayrelle.::
She gave a terrified squeak and tried to burrow back under the thin prison blanket, thought she knew it was futile. She had just regained herself, she couldn't loose herself again so quickly, not again..
::Fayrelle, why are you trying to hide from me?::
She would resist. She had to resist. She had to remain herself, if only for a little while longer. She had promised to help Leia Organa Solo.. She had promised..
::Fayrelle.. My child, my darling, my love.. Whatever is the matter? Why are you hiding from me?::
"You don't love me," Fayrelle whispered fiercely. "You never have."
::Fayrelle! Don't be cruel. You know that you are everything to me.. You are the only thing that matters to me anymore.::
"No, no, I'm not! Your revenge is the only thing that matters to you. You want to kill Master Skywalker, not me! You-" The presence in her mind grew stronger, fueled by its rage. It choked off her words and left her gasping for air.
::NEVER,:: spat the bodiless voice, ::never mention that name in my presence. That man does not exist. Your task was to see that that statement was made true. You have failed, Fayrelle. I put my trust in you, and you have failed.::
Fayrelle's eyes grew wide with fear as she stared ahead at something that none but her could see. "No! No, Calli, don't! Calli, I'm sorry, Calli, don't! CALLI, DON'T!" Her scream lost all distinguishable syllables, and she collapsed onto her bed, eyes wide and staring. Her body gave a single, convulsive shiver, then was still.
* * *
Luke sat hunched over his warm glass of Corellian ale. He had been moving from bar to bar all day, he wasn't sure why. His mind seemed lost in some kind of white haze. The other patrons of his current haunt, The Tipsy Rancor, a seedy joint in the upper low levels of the Imperial Center, avoided him, instinctively sensing a man in desperate straits. His usually clear blue eyes were dull, with dark circles, and his blonde hair was mussed and untidy. His clothes looked like they had been slept in. A few customers glanced at him, and did a double take; didn't that man in the corner there look a bit like the famed Jedi Master Luke Skywalker? No.. With a second glance, they decided that no hero of the New Republic would allow himself to be seen in such a state.
One customer, however, did not ignore him.
With an energetic flash of red hair, Mara Jade stalked up to the Jedi Master, and snapped just loud enough for the entire bar to hear, "Skywalker, what the hell do you think you're doing?"
He looked up, startled, his dead eyes showing their first flash of life in the last twenty-four hours. "Mara..?"
"No," Mara snorted, "it's Han. Of course it's Mara, you half-wit Jedi!" Her eyes softened and her voice lowered. "Who else would tramp through half of the bars on Coruscant looking for you?"
His eyes cleared completely, and he looked around, a little dazed. The bar was almost completely silent, and every eye, sensorary horn and sight tentacle was trained on them. "Mara.." He looked down at his hands. "Mara, I'm sorry.." He looked up at her, his eyes full of emotion that he could not express. "Thank you." She understood what he had not said, and she nodded.
She knelt in front of him. "Come on, Luke," she said gently. "Let's go home."
He nodded, and struggled to his feet. He stumbled and fell against Mara, who supported him. "Farmboy," she said with some amusement, "you are smashed."
"No, I'm not," he protested, and took a few steps, only to nearly fall into a table of startled Bothans.
"Yes, you are," Mara corrected, steering him clear. She threw a handful of credits at the bar attendant. "Keep the change," she called over her shoulder.
When they reached the small apartment they were sharing, she keyed the door pad to open, and dragged him inside. She helped him into bed, pulled his boots off, then collapsed next to him. "Skywalker," she panted, "you are far too heavy."
"Getting out of shape, are we, Mara?" Luke murmured, his eyes half-closed.
Mara laughed. "You wish, farmboy!" She rolled half on top of him and studied his face. "Luke?" she asked. She suddenly felt inexplicably afraid.
"Mmm?"
She bit her lip. She didn't want to say it, but she had to know. "Do.. Do you-" Her voice caught. She felt an errant tear trickle down her face.
Luke propped himself up on one elbow, and tenderly wiped it away with his free hand. "Mara," he asked softly, cupping her face in his hand, "what's the matter?"
::Luke, do you still love me?:: She couldn't look at him. She was prepared for rejection, but she couldn't look him in the eye when he said no..
His eyes filled with tears. ::Oh, Mara..:: He sat up and reached forward, enfolding her in a tight embrace. ::Never ask that, Mara. Never.:: He turned her face up, so her eyes met his. ::I will love you forever. I promise.:: Their lips met.
Later, lying together with the sheet thrown carelessly over their intertwined bodies, Luke spoke quietly, "I have to go find her, Mara."
"I know," Mara answered, her head pillowed on his chest. "And you know I'm going with you."
Luke smiled and kissed her red-gold hair. "I know, Mara. I know."
An image came to her mind, unbidden, of Luke and an unfamiliar woman embracing..
Mara's concentration shattered, and the remote chose that moment to spin in and shock her in the thigh. She swore. With an angry snarl, she swatted the remote out of the air with the pommel of her lightsaber, and it spun across the room to crash into the wall. She deactivated her saber, and threw it over to join it.
She allowed herself to collapse to her knees on the foam mat of the practice room. She hugged herself tightly, despair welling through her, but she did not allow herself to cry. Get a hold of yourself, Jade, she ordered sternly. You've been here before. You've lived through it.
But this is different, her heart cried. This is more..
She turned away from that part of herself. Since she and Luke had.. She shook her head. Since she had met Luke, she had slowly shaken off the part of herself that was cold and callous, discarding it like a reptile discards its outgrown skins. Now, since yesterday's events, she had found herself slowly creeping back into that part of herself. It protects me, she told herself fiercely. It keeps me from feeling the pain..
It also keeps me from feeling the Force.
She took a deep breath. This was ridiculous. She had to get a hold of herself. She had received a terrible shock yesterday, but she had to remind herself that it had doubtlessly been ten times worse for Luke. She had to talk to him.
You tried to last night, a small voice inside of her piped up, but he wouldn't even look at you.
"Shut up," she told herself. "Shut up and find Luke. He needs you." Her eyes misted briefly with tears, but she dashed them away impatiently. She reached out gingerly with the Force and felt Luke's presence, a burning brand in her mind. She brushed against him gently. ::Luke?::
Abruptly, all sense of him was cut off.
She suddenly felt very cold and alone. Her first instinct was to curl up in a ball and dissolve into tears, but she shook her head and climbed to her feet determinedly. "All right, farmboy," she muttered, retrieving her lightsaber from the floor and clipping it to her belt, "if that's the way you want to play it.."
* * *
Fayrelle awoke to the dim light of her cell. She had no windows, and they hadn't given her a chrono, so she couldn't tell what time of day it was. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. She was very tired; she wondered what had woken her.
::Fayrelle.::
She gave a terrified squeak and tried to burrow back under the thin prison blanket, thought she knew it was futile. She had just regained herself, she couldn't loose herself again so quickly, not again..
::Fayrelle, why are you trying to hide from me?::
She would resist. She had to resist. She had to remain herself, if only for a little while longer. She had promised to help Leia Organa Solo.. She had promised..
::Fayrelle.. My child, my darling, my love.. Whatever is the matter? Why are you hiding from me?::
"You don't love me," Fayrelle whispered fiercely. "You never have."
::Fayrelle! Don't be cruel. You know that you are everything to me.. You are the only thing that matters to me anymore.::
"No, no, I'm not! Your revenge is the only thing that matters to you. You want to kill Master Skywalker, not me! You-" The presence in her mind grew stronger, fueled by its rage. It choked off her words and left her gasping for air.
::NEVER,:: spat the bodiless voice, ::never mention that name in my presence. That man does not exist. Your task was to see that that statement was made true. You have failed, Fayrelle. I put my trust in you, and you have failed.::
Fayrelle's eyes grew wide with fear as she stared ahead at something that none but her could see. "No! No, Calli, don't! Calli, I'm sorry, Calli, don't! CALLI, DON'T!" Her scream lost all distinguishable syllables, and she collapsed onto her bed, eyes wide and staring. Her body gave a single, convulsive shiver, then was still.
* * *
Luke sat hunched over his warm glass of Corellian ale. He had been moving from bar to bar all day, he wasn't sure why. His mind seemed lost in some kind of white haze. The other patrons of his current haunt, The Tipsy Rancor, a seedy joint in the upper low levels of the Imperial Center, avoided him, instinctively sensing a man in desperate straits. His usually clear blue eyes were dull, with dark circles, and his blonde hair was mussed and untidy. His clothes looked like they had been slept in. A few customers glanced at him, and did a double take; didn't that man in the corner there look a bit like the famed Jedi Master Luke Skywalker? No.. With a second glance, they decided that no hero of the New Republic would allow himself to be seen in such a state.
One customer, however, did not ignore him.
With an energetic flash of red hair, Mara Jade stalked up to the Jedi Master, and snapped just loud enough for the entire bar to hear, "Skywalker, what the hell do you think you're doing?"
He looked up, startled, his dead eyes showing their first flash of life in the last twenty-four hours. "Mara..?"
"No," Mara snorted, "it's Han. Of course it's Mara, you half-wit Jedi!" Her eyes softened and her voice lowered. "Who else would tramp through half of the bars on Coruscant looking for you?"
His eyes cleared completely, and he looked around, a little dazed. The bar was almost completely silent, and every eye, sensorary horn and sight tentacle was trained on them. "Mara.." He looked down at his hands. "Mara, I'm sorry.." He looked up at her, his eyes full of emotion that he could not express. "Thank you." She understood what he had not said, and she nodded.
She knelt in front of him. "Come on, Luke," she said gently. "Let's go home."
He nodded, and struggled to his feet. He stumbled and fell against Mara, who supported him. "Farmboy," she said with some amusement, "you are smashed."
"No, I'm not," he protested, and took a few steps, only to nearly fall into a table of startled Bothans.
"Yes, you are," Mara corrected, steering him clear. She threw a handful of credits at the bar attendant. "Keep the change," she called over her shoulder.
When they reached the small apartment they were sharing, she keyed the door pad to open, and dragged him inside. She helped him into bed, pulled his boots off, then collapsed next to him. "Skywalker," she panted, "you are far too heavy."
"Getting out of shape, are we, Mara?" Luke murmured, his eyes half-closed.
Mara laughed. "You wish, farmboy!" She rolled half on top of him and studied his face. "Luke?" she asked. She suddenly felt inexplicably afraid.
"Mmm?"
She bit her lip. She didn't want to say it, but she had to know. "Do.. Do you-" Her voice caught. She felt an errant tear trickle down her face.
Luke propped himself up on one elbow, and tenderly wiped it away with his free hand. "Mara," he asked softly, cupping her face in his hand, "what's the matter?"
::Luke, do you still love me?:: She couldn't look at him. She was prepared for rejection, but she couldn't look him in the eye when he said no..
His eyes filled with tears. ::Oh, Mara..:: He sat up and reached forward, enfolding her in a tight embrace. ::Never ask that, Mara. Never.:: He turned her face up, so her eyes met his. ::I will love you forever. I promise.:: Their lips met.
Later, lying together with the sheet thrown carelessly over their intertwined bodies, Luke spoke quietly, "I have to go find her, Mara."
"I know," Mara answered, her head pillowed on his chest. "And you know I'm going with you."
Luke smiled and kissed her red-gold hair. "I know, Mara. I know."