Part IX

13 standard days later

Mara stared into the Dark Lord's face. Not in person - a hologram of a death mask, more like, but she had never thought of it that way. Vader had never haunted her nightmares. She had never been stalked at night by flashing images of a frigid metal skull…He was not a symbol of fright. He was just…there. He always had been there; she did not remember a time when he hadn't. He had once been the only person who saw past her facade; one person she could talk to. With time, they had grown apart. He was now a mere acquaintance. His face was a familiar one, as was the Emperor's shriveled, rotten carcass of a visage.

Now it seemed alien. Twisted, unnatural, almost a perversion. And cold, so cold…distant, like a void, yet still there, like an impenetrable wall of stone. His eyes weren't black. They were a deep, bleeding red, like dying embers, like a festering scar. You could see through them…but not enough to see a face.

How had she missed this detail? Belatedly, she realized that she'd never spared him more than a fleeting glance. He had always revolted her. There was something about him…He was a machine of death. Steely. Unrelenting. Merciless. Feeling even less than her. As soulless as the late Emperor himself, sucking the life and warmth from everything, yet having none. A ghost of a doubt flickered inside.

"What do you want?" Weary. Poignant, almost. Lacking the formality, the menace, the aggression. A sigh? No. Just a trick of her ears. Just the static. The depth was ever-present. It never left him. Never would.

"Nothing. I do have something you might want." Said with a rare smile devoid of irony and contempt.

"I want nothing but for you to leave me in peace." Peace. What an empty word it was. He knew not peace. Nor did she.

"You remember Skywalker?" It would be pretty hard not to remember someone you were obsessively chasing around the galaxy for months on end.

"Yes." All that wistful irony infused into a single word.

She let out a breath. Should she tell him? No, stupid. Of course not. This was the Emperor – formerly known as Palpatine's lapdog. Why did it feel like he could be trusted? Irrational as it seemed, it was almost as if he was on her treasonous side…Almost. He was more like a reluctant ally. Jade, you are ridiculous. For kriff's sake, don't say it.

"You want him alive, don't you? I know where he is, he's—"

"What leads you to assume that I want him at all, dead or alive?"

"What if I told you he was half-crazy and using your side of the Force?" No reaction. Yes, she had been blunt, but Lord Vader was not easily stunned. Silence stretched from second to second to second.

"You'd be pretty crazy yourself to let a Jedi run around loose, wreaking havoc."

"I appear to have lost a significant part of my sanity." His voice was carved out of stone.

"He's on Naboo. I've been tracking him ever since he left the rebellion. I don't know what he would want to do there…Nar Shaddaa, I would understand, but Naboo…" Mara could have sworn she saw a spark of interest in the black-red lenses.

"I'm afraid your efforts were wasted. Skywalker is no longer your concern."

Mara sighed. Time to spill the beans…

"Look, I know you don't care whether he lives or dies, but I need you to do something for me. He's dying, you know. I watched him lose himself, piece by piece. I can't bring him back. I know nothing of your Force." Ringing silence and mechanized breathing answered.

"If…" Suddenly she grasped the absurdity of what she was saying. Idiot. Now you've done it.

"If anyone can bring him back, it's you. I know it's a lot to ask of you, but pleasedo it for me. Please."

"I have other duties to attend to. You know this." She was greatly tempted to turn off the comm.

"I'm sorry." He was. She could see that.

"So am I."


"You wanted to speak with me?" The princess of Alderaan wore a politician's smile.

"Yes, Your Highness." She motioned Mara to take a seat.

"None of that – my world has been dead for almost four years now. Call me Leia." Her ease at disposing of formalities was disconcerting. Perhaps she wasn't one hundred percent politician – there seemed to be a human being in there.

"Very well. This hasn't anything to do with the Alliance."

"Oh?" The princess – Organa – Leia – arched an eyebrow.

"It's about your friend Skywalker. Our friend. We both know he's listed as AWOL; some say he went off and killed himself. Well, I can assure you that he is alive at the moment, and half a galaxy away – on Naboo, if my tracking devices are accurate."

Wide mahogany eyes glistened with emotion. The colour drained from her cheeks; her lips slightly parted.

"Why?" Mara forced a tight, painful smile. Life couldn't always be so easily reduced to cause and effect.

"I don't know for sure why he chose to desert. I suppose it's because he knew he was dangerous. He chose to remove himself from everyone, to exile himself to somewhere where he could hurt no one – no one but himself," She took a deep breath. "I worry about him. He'll go mad if left to himself…Which is why I'd like to ask you to grant me leave." Organa blinked, then acquiesced.

"Of course. It might take a couple of days to clear you, but I'll do what I can."

"Thank you...Thank you very much." Mara got up to leave, but her feet were tightly bonded to Organa's office floor.

"I…have a confession to make. I hope you don't label me a traitor, and that this will not leave your office." A nod from Organa.

"Until about the time of Palpatine's death, I worked for him. I was an operative, one of the best. In other words, I did the dirty work Lord Vader was too obvious to do. I was sent here to assassinate someone by means of poison, or so I thought. What I soon found out was that the toxin in fact rendered the victim highly unstable." It was almost disturbing how her words seemed to always quiet everything.

"Do you know who I am talking about?" Another nod; no words. Mara swallowed the lump in her throat. The walls were closing in, seeking to suffocate the life out of her; her vision was blurring and fuzzing over like a broken comm unit. The monotonous music of the light fixtures permeated everything.

"I never told him," Again, the tight grimace accompanying the tight throat. "I never told him how sorry I was. He lost so much sleep wondering what was happening to him. It was killing him….And I said nothing." A deep, shuddering breath.

"I should come with you,"

"The Alliance needs you. And you need to find your pirate." A pitiful attempt at humour, but it brought a smile to both faces.


Some thirty-five hours later, Mara Jade, Rogue Four, left the base due to urgent personal matters that required her immediate attention. And they did – it was a race against time. Little did any of them know, the question was not whether she would arrive in time. It was who would get there first.