Cockpit
Millennium Falcon
In space outside Caamas
One hour later
"I still wish I could have stayed," young Luke Skywalker murmured sadly. "I've wanted to know my father my whole life."
"Believe me," his twin sister said bitterly, "You aren't missing a thing."
Older Leia placed a comforting arm around her younger self, "You have every right and reason to loathe the man, Leia. Don't deny yourself the right to grieve over your experience. But realize that your brother has been longing to know Anakin Skywalker his entire life."
"But he isn't Anakin Skywalker anymore, is he?"
"No, he isn't," her Alter agreed. "He's a screwed up, psychopathic, dark souled monstrosity who at some level really cares about his kids."
"That doesn't make much sense."
"He's a bizarre person and many things about him don't make sense."
"Are you sure he and Ben and the Other Luke and uh Mara won't need us to help them kill Palpatine? I want to help!" young Luke Skywalker commented worriedly.
Older Leia laughed kindly and slapped the youth on the shoulder, "Listen, Luke, you may have the Force power of the ages but realistically, you have had like one hour of Force training. There is no way an entirely untrained Force Sensitive can take on a trained Sith, let alone Palpatine. He'd kill you in about 3 seconds or worse yet, capture you."
"So we're just running away?" young Luke pouted.
"We're on a mission to Alderaan to pick up your twin's parents, and then we'll proceed to the Rebel Base," older Leia said patiently. "I will give you some training until I disappear back to my old timeline. Your Leia will get some healing after her ordeal on the Death Star at your mutual father's hands. Don't be a putz."
Luke slumped slightly, "I'm sorry, Leia."
"It's Ok," Leia replied wearily. "At least my planet didn't get blown up."
Older Leia winced, causing her younger counterpart to reach out a contrite hand, "I'm sorry."
"Look, all this family bonding is terrific," Han Solo grumbled, "but I wanna make it clear that once we land on Alderaan, I want my credits and then I'm outta here. I have a 1400 kg Huttese crime lord calling for my blood and by the Maw, I'm taking my money and running!"
Younger Leia stared at the smuggler incredulously and turned to her pregnant counterpart, "Are you absolutely sure about him? I mean, really?"
"I told you that we've changed the timeline ..."
"I know, but still, you actually married the Han Solo in your timeline."
"Yes."
"What!?" Solo gasped
"You are carrying his twin children," young Leia continued relentlessly.
"Again, yes. Han Solo is a fine man once you get his crusty, crabby, sardonic, sarcastic exterior."
Chewbacca roared with obvious amusement and smacked Solo on the shoulder.
"Yeah, laugh it up you overgrown walking carpet!" Solo snapped.
/
The Death Star control room
"Is it too late to say that perhaps this is a bad idea?" Obi-Wan Kenobi inquired mildly.
"I'm afraid so, Ben," Older Luke said with a chuckle. "You'd better strap in."
"Or do not," Vader replied coldly. "It is quite all right with me if your decrepit body is tossed around the command center and shattered like convor eggs."
Kenobi gazed sadly at his old friend and apprentice even as he strapped himself in. Luke compressed his lips but did not speak. There were oceans of bad blood between his father and Kenobi, but now was not the time to address it.
"Commence firing thrusters 56 through 334," Vader ordered.
Luke obeyed silently, his hands skipping across the controls.
"Do you mind if we just do a mind link?" he asked Vader cautiously. "I think it would save precious time."
The behemoth glanced briefly at his Alter son, hesitated, then nodded, "Very well."
The next few minutes were admittedly exhilarating for Luke. In all his various trips through time, he had never worked so closely with his father in a piloting endeavor. Well, of course not. No one in the history of the galaxy had ever tried to land a Death Star in a bog.
"I'm adjusting internal gravity," he told his father through their mind link.
"Very well. Thirty seconds to impact."
The Death Star trembled as the thrusters shifted under the gifted hands of father and son, and gently, tenderly, the great station lowered itself into the Caamasian muck. It sank softly and quietly into the great quagmire until the delicate balance between mud and Death Star's gravity and buoyancy found its rightful place. The great station became one with the mud.
It was done.
Luke heaved out a deep breath of relief and glanced at his wife, who had been sitting in a corner during the careful operation.
"How does it look, Mara?" he asked softly.
Mara was flipping through data almost faster than the eye could see, "It looks good, Luke. The battle station is maintaining integrity and the lower sections have not been breached, at least not yet."
"That is impressive," Luke admitted. "There must be a lot of pressure down there."
"I will give orders to the men on board regarding the appropriate chain of command before we depart," Vader rumbled.
/
Imperial Palace
Imperial City
Imperial Center
A week later
Mara Jade Skywalker hissed in disgust at the revolting slime now clinging to her boots.
"This is seriously nasty," she complained softly.
"I'm Ok with nasty," her husband replied, his gaze darting around carefully. "I'm just more concerned about being attacked by a dianoga."
"Once in a lifetime is probably enough for any man," Mara agreed, grabbing the rope and beginning the long climb up the side of the garbage chute.
"Father is approaching the elevator. I'd say we have about six minutes to reach the Royal Kitchen and sneak through it to the Throne Room."
"We'll make it."
/
Emperor's Throne Room
"Rise, Lord Vader," Darth Sidious hissed. He was in a seriously horrible mood. His Death Star was slowly sinking into a swamp on Caamas. His Death Star was sinking into a swamp.
And now Darth Vader, his apprentice, his second in command, the most powerful Force Sensitive of his generation, had the unmitigated gall to show up projecting genuine happiness. Happy, presumably, because he had a prisoner — namely, one Obi-Wan Kenobi, former Jedi Master, the man responsible for turning Darth Vader into a crispy critter.
Death Star: lost
Obi-Wan Kenobi: captured
It was not a reasonable trade.
The Emperor's fingers itched. He really wanted to blast Vader with Force Lightning but he was so incensed, so enraged, so furious, that he might accidentally kill the man and he needed information now about what happened to the Death Star. Because the last thing he knew, the battle station was about to fire on Alderaan and now it was sinking into a swamp.
A door slid open to the right and Palpatine bent a puzzled look toward the kitchens where cooks prepared him tasty food.
A moment later, to his increased bewilderment, his major domo entered the Throne Room bearing a ...
What was that? A Sic-Six Layer Cake? With myriad burning candles?
A group of dancing girls? Singing dancing girls? Dressed in vibrant green?
He hated green! Green reminded him of life! Black was the way to go!
"Happy Life Day, Great Emperor! Glorious, Mighty, Brilliant, and Wise! We salute you! We adore you!" the women sang as they danced in step.
Palpatine rose shakily to his feet, his fury mitigated by bewilderment. He hadn't asked for a cake, or a bevy of singing slave girls! What was this? It wasn't even his real Life Day!
He turned to Vader, who was standing silent and disapproving next to Obi-Wan Kenobi, who was gazing at the gyrating chorus with a definite smirk on his face.
Outrageous!
There was a sudden hiss of lightsabers and Palpatine turned with even more amazement as two figures strode into the room from the kitchens, one with a blue lightsaber, the other with a green one. The black clad male promptly leaped to the elevator and began chopping his red guards into pieces. The woman, a familiar looking redhead, sliced through the chinks of armor of the nearest Royal Guard.
The six dancing girls, previously focused on pleasing their lord and master, stopped their movement and song and began shrieking in terror.
Darth Vader strode toward Palpatine and lit his lightsaber just as Obi-Wan Kenobi divested himself of his chains and pulled his own lightsaber from his drab garments.
It was an assassination attempt!
There were screams, and howls, and Palpatine lifted his arms and began shooting Vader with Force Lightning, which the junior Sith deflected, and the guards were striking with their Force pikes, and dying where they stood, and Kenobi was herding the hapless girls into a safe corner and there was suddenly cake in Palpatine's face and the last thing he saw.
The last thing he ever felt ...
And heard ...
Was a red lightsaber running through his chest ...
And the sound of a bass voice ...
"For Padme!"
/
Mara Jade's Quarters
Imperial City
Imperial Center
4 hours later
Mara Jade, 18 standard years of age, rocked rhythmically in her bed. She really wanted to bang her head against the wall, but that was probably excessively dramatic.
Her time traveling counterpart regarded her sympathetically before diving an experienced hand under her bed and pulling out a bedraggled loth cat plushie.
"Here."
"How did you know ...?" the younger woman asked feebly, then shook her head, "Right, you're me."
"I am you from nine years in the future and another timeline," Mara Jade Skywalker corrected. "We've changed this timeline so your life will no doubt be quite different than mine. Here, have something to drink."
She floated a hip flask over to her younger counterpart, who took it with wide eyes, "You've had a hard day."
"Yes, I have," young Mara murmured, taking a large sip. A moment later, she spewed blue milk onto the floor, her eyes wide in horror.
"What in all the galaxies?" she sputtered. "Is this blue milk?!"
The elder Mara winced openly, "I'm so sorry. I forgot I hated blue milk at your age."
Now young Mara looked deeply suspicious, "You like blue milk? It seems impossible that you could really be me because blue milk is the most repugnant, disgusting, nasty liquid in the galaxy!"
"Not that you're melodramatic or anything. But yeah, again, I'm sorry. I really did forget my former distaste. My husband introduced me to fresh blue milk after our marriage, and once I got pregnant it was the only thing that reliably stayed down the first twelve weeks."
"You're married and pregnant?!"
"Married, yes, pregnant, no. Our son is over a year old now."
"You have a son."
"Uh-huh," older Mara said cheerfully, pulling out her holocube and switching it on. An image projected into the air showing Luke, Mara, and baby Biggs.
Young Mara slumped against a wall and ran a shaking hand over her face, "I can't believe you got married."
"It was a surprise to me as well."
The girl squinted at Luke's face, "I don't know him, do I?"
"No."
"Name?"
"Luke Skywalker, but keep in mind you don't have to marry the Luke Skywalker from this timeline. We've changed things."
"Where is this timeline's Luke Skywalker?"
"With the Rebels somewhere."
"He's a Rebel?"
"Yes."
"So he's some random Rebel and you just happened to meet him and fall in love and marry and have a baby."
"Um, it was a bit more complicated than that. Luke is the most powerful Force Sensitive in our galaxy. He was responsible for the death of Palpatine"
"So he was stronger than Palpatine?"
"I would say yes, though he wasn't as experienced, of course."
"What about Vader?"
"He's dead in our timeline, alive in this one."
"So I assume this Skywalker person isn't nearly as powerful as Vader?"
"Er ... he is, because, um, Luke is Vader's son."
Mara stared at her Alter and began banging her head against the wall. Softly.
"Don't do that."
"Vader has a kid."
"Two of them, actually. Luke has a twin sister."
"You married Darth Vader's son."
"He's a great guy."
"Please tell me that I have been injured in some mission and that this is all just some delusional nightmare and I'm really hooked up to a bacta bag in a med ward."
"No, this is real. Look, Mara, Palpatine stunk. He was a horrible, evil despot. He ordered his agents to kidnap you as a child and murder your family. He's dead because Luke and I came back in time and worked with Vader and an old Jedi to sink the Death Star into a bog. Then we hacked into the Imperial network on Imperial Center and ordered dancing girls and a cake to show up in the Throne Room and we climbed up the garbage chute into the kitchen and attacked ..."
She trailed off and scooted over to her younger counterpart, pulling her into an embrace, "It's Ok, Mara. It's Ok. Hug your plushie."
Mara did.
/
Author Note: Stay safe, stay healthy. Thanks for reading and reviewing! Thanks to my wonderful editor/husband!