CHAPTER 4
Mara Jade stood in the hallway outside the Throne Room, waiting for an audience with her master. But unlike the last time she had been summoned to this place, she was more than eager to report to to the Emperor and receive her new orders. For the past three months she'd been stuck inside the Palace like a caged animal, eager to resume her duties as the Emperor's Hand and escape the monotony of Palace life. She enjoyed her days of physical activity, training in her private practice hall, but her days of action had unfortunately been punctuated by dull, boring nights attending Court. The Emperor had required her presence every night, and despite her displeasure, she obeyed his command as always. Before she had become the Emperor's Hand, Mara had never objected to attending Court, and she had considered each appearance to be a necessary part of her training. But in the past three months, she hadn't even been tasked with the opportunity to do something while attending Court, such as track a mark for the Emperor or even resume her old role as a dancer. Instead Mara had been forced to make idle chatter with members of the Royal Houses, pretending to be some vapid little girl and feeling like she was dressed up for some sort of masquerade. It took every last bit of her training to suppress the scowl that threatened to permanently overtake her face as a result of her ever-increasing frustrations.
Finally, when she feared she would not be able to handle one more evening with some arrogant, self-indulgent Academy graduate trying to woo her with his most unimpressive claims of power, Mara had been summoned by her master. Still clad in the jumpsuit that she wore for weapons training, she ran all the way to the Throne Room, not even bothering to stop by her quarters.
Mara remained stoic when Sate Pestage, one of the Emperor's closest aides, exited the Throne Room. They nodded to each other politely and Pestage gestured for Mara to go inside. She remained in place, however, refusing to move until she heard her master's call.
Come.
Giving Pestage another bow, she practically glided across the opulent Throne Room and fell gracefully to her knee before her master. She could feel Palpatine's amused stare, as he sensed her anxiety and desire to get out of the Palace. Mara quickly clamped down on those emotions, forcing herself to remain calm and collected in front of her Emperor.
"Rise, my child," he instructed. "I sense that you are ready to serve me again."
Mara nodded, and spoke out, "I am always serving you, master."
The Emperor openly smiled at that, and his approval washed over their bond. "Yes you are, my child. Very good." She immediately felt embarrassed for her negative attitude about attending Court. As the Emperor's Hand, she should be able to accomplish any task without discomfort. Her feelings and emotions were irrelevant. Perhaps her stay at the Palace was the Emperor's way of reminding her of that fact.
Mara glanced up and met the Emperor's gaze; he stared intently at her, as if sensing the thoughts swirling inside her head. She immediately cleared her mind and focused only on the man in front of her. A moment later he smiled again and reached out his hand. "Come closer, Mara," he ordered. "I have a very special assignment for you."
Her breath caught in her throat as she followed her master's command. Very rarely did he use her real name, only when he was granting her an important task or commendation.
"I have been carefully considering your concerns about Alderaan. I have come to the conclusion that you are correct; defections are inevitable and they must be quashed before the Rebellion profits from our losses. Therefore, I will be sending you to take care of such treason."
"Me, master?" Mara gasped, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice. Vader had suggested that Palpatine would send her to take care of the traitors as a result of Alderaan, but she hadn't taken him seriously. The Emperor tasked Mara to deal with threats to the Empire, but never the Rebels. That was Vader's arena, and Mara had no desire to infringe on Vader's mandate. But now her master was sending her to take care of defectors, who were Rebels in all but name. Again Mara felt an immense sense of pride, that the Emperor would trust her enough to send her on such an important mission.
"Of course, my child. You were brave enough to be honest with me about your concerns, and I always reward such honesty and ambition. You have been one of my most trusted servants and I know you will not disappoint me."
"Thank you, master," Mara said, bowing her head reverently, still overwhelmed at this assignment, and more eager than ever to leave the Palace and get started on her mission.
"And you will soon enough," the Emperor replied. Mara blushed, embarrassed that she had been caught with her shields down. She immediately corrected her mistake, and the Emperor nodded in approval. "For now, child, you will prepare for your mission. You will use my library to conduct your research. You have the freedom to go about your task in any way you deem necessary."
"Thank you, master. I won't fail you."
"I never believed that you would, Mara. Now, go and prepare for your mission. You will report to me before you leave."
"Yes, master." Mara bowed again and exited the Throne Room, heading towards Palpatine's private research facility. She knew why he had granted her such a privilege. Even though Mara could slice into any Imperial computer system in seconds, if she used standard search parameters then her search would eventually be uncovered by those in Intelligence or the secretive Security Bureau. It appeared that the Emperor wanted Mara's mission, along with her existence, to remain carefully hidden for the time being.
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Darth Vader sat alone in the Emperor's private library, staring intently at the data on the computer terminal in front of him. He had already known it was true, but now he had the confirmation he desired: Luke Skywalker was, without a shadow of a doubt, his son.
Considering his dishonesty to the Emperor about knowing the boy's identity, one might think that performing his research in the Emperor's library was a foolhardy move, but Vader knew better. Any query made from the Executor would be an automatic red flag for his master. And Vader knew ways to mask his search so that the Emperor would find his stay in the library to be nothing more than general information gathering on the Rebels, as Vader was prone to do whenever he was on Imperial Center.
And more than that, Vader knew that Palpatine would be indisposed for several hours, having audiences with several aides, followed by Vizier Sate Pestage, and then his precious Hand, Mara Jade. If his master did decide to check up on him later on, he would find his false search records and nothing at all indicating that Vader was, in fact, looking for information on a Rebel named Luke Skywalker.
Vader was not so foolish as to search for the name directly. Instead he called up Outer Rim data files, narrowing down information first to the Arkanis sector, then the Tatoo system. He searched records from the most populous settlements, including Mos Espa and Mos Eisley, but found no matches. Finally, he widened his search to include the smaller settlements outside of Mos Eisley, where he had once visited in another lifetime.
And then he found it—absolute, undeniable proof: Luke Skywalker, human male, born almost twenty years ago, no known parents, adopted child to Owen Lars and Beru Whitesun.
All Vader could think was that they hadn't even changed his name. They didn't have to, because Vader would never have thought to look for a son—why would he? His child had died, along with its mother. And of course, even if he had suspected…he would never have thought to look there.
His old master had known him so well.
Vader was lost in thought when he heard the door to the library slide open. Sensing who was approaching, he quickly erased the records on his screen and masked his search. Then he abruptly rose from his chair just in time to see the Emperor's Hand enter the library.
She paused momentarily, her shock at his appearance evident, but managed to immediately compose herself. Vader gave her credit for that, at least.
"Lord Vader," she said politely as she stepped towards him, her eyes flickering to the display screen behind him, but of course there was nothing there for her to see.
"Emperor's Hand." His displeasure that she had interrupted him was clear both in his greeting and through the Force. But she still did not flinch.
"The Emperor has granted me permission to do some research," she explained, answering his unspoken question.
"I am so pleased to hear," Vader replied, sarcasm dripping behind his deep tones. Mara's expression twitched ever so slightly.
"I'm glad, Lord Vader. I hope that when you hear my new assignment, you will not change your opinion."
Vader did not care one whit about whatever task she'd been given, but he decided to play along. "Is that so? Why would your next assignment concern me?"
She stared him straight in the eye—as much as she could through his helmet. She was definitely a bold one. "The Emperor has tasked me to eliminate defectors."
"Ah. So it appears my prediction was correct. Congratulations, Emperor's Hand." Vader's tone was still sarcastic and now mocking, knowing that it would frustrate the girl to no end—and also knowing that she would never rise to his bait. She knew that angering Lord Vader was a good way to earn the swift disapproval of their master.
"I was surprised, to be honest. Hunting the Rebels has always been your arena."
Ah, so that was her concern; she was still trying her hardest to get into Vader's good graces, and was worried that her new assignment would trouble him. She needn't worry; Vader disliked her for many reasons, but never because he questioned whether their master favored her over him. He was a Sith, after all; she was a mere assassin, no matter what special title she'd been given.
"They are defectors, Emperor's Hand," he reminded her. "Not Rebels."
"They will be if they are successful."
Vader stepped forward until he was mere centimeters from the girl and stared down at her imposingly. Even as he placed a gloved finger on her cheek, her controlled facade still did not crack…
Until Vader leaned down to whisper, "In that case, you should take care that you are the one who is successful, Emperor's Hand. I have no desire to clean up your mess." Her eyes widened as he caressed her cheek ever so slightly…
And then he swept out of the room, leaving her to stand alone.
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Silently seething, Mara stared at the Dark Lord's receding form. She was still clueless as to why he was so hostile towards her. She had never done anything to offend him, had never gotten in the way of his work, had never been rude or challenged him. And yet he treated her worse than he did any other random Imperial officer. It was maddening!
And worst of all was that Mara would never dare take her concerns to her master, for fear that he would believe her incapable of solving her own problems. And she refused to allow this issue with Vader to become a problem. She had her work to do, and he had his.
She heard the door close behind him. "Thank you for the advice, Lord Vader," she muttered to herself.
Taking a seat at her preferred computer terminal, she called up a search program and got to work. The Emperor had tasked her with finding and eliminating defectors, and the best way she knew to do that was to infiltrate their ranks and gain a position on a Star Destroyer.
It appeared that her endless nights at Court had served a purpose, after all. Mara had become aware of discontented rumblings among the fleet. Nobody would say it outright, for fear of immediate execution, but it was clear to Mara's trained ear that higher ranking officers in the Navy had not been pleased by the Emperor's precious Death Star. As such, Mara believed that she would be more likely to uncover mass defections in the fleet, rather than in the Army or among civilians.
So she had determined her strategy; now it was time to determine which Destroyer to infiltrate. After a few moments, the answer came to her. It was elegant in its simplicity, and that was its genius: she needed to find the ship with the highest number of Alderaanian officers.
She keyed her search, setting the parameters to find crew members that had been born on Alderaan or had one or more family members with Alderaanian backgrounds. Alderaanians were known as an inherently peaceful people, but there were still plenty of them in the military, and she soon had her answer.
The Star Destroyer Accuser.
She propped her chin on her fist, deep in thought, wondering about her next move. The Accuser had been recently assigned to Death Squadron, which could be very problematic. She did not want to come into contact with Vader during her mission. But when she checked the Accuser's upcoming schedule, it appeared that it was due to separate from the rest of Vader's fleet and begin its own tour of duty.
Connecting her datapad to the computer terminal, Mara began to copy the Accuser's database, considering how to proceed with her infiltration. She'd been trained in espionage and was well trained in Imperial military procedures, so she did not doubt her ability to fit in. The fact that she was female might gain some suspicion, but there were enough women in the military that it would not immediately ruin her chances.
What she needed to do was find the most likely person to lead a defection among the crew and gain his confidence. She needed someone with an Alderaanian background—preferably someone born on the planet himself—and who had ties to the planet until its destruction. She needed someone who had been out of the academy several years, but not old enough to have become fully entrenched in Imperial life.
After an hour of searching, she found the perfect candidate: Tycho Celchu, a TIE fighter pilot.
Celchu was twenty-one years of age, had graduated from the academy not long ago, and was born on Alderaan. His parents were wealthy, and it was reported that he had assaulted a fellow cadet after the cadet had insulted his Alderaanian heritage.
And most interesting of all, he had attended the academy with Biggs Darklighter and Derek Klivian, two known defectors who had taken over the Rand Ecliptic and joined the Rebel Alliance.
Mara could only assume that Celchu had refused to defect with his classmates, and now, after Alderaan's destruction, was regretting that decision. Indeed, he was the perfect candidate to lead a defection.
Her data transfer complete, Mara disconnected her datapad and began to input queries to Intelligence. She had no personal records in standard Imperial databases, so it would be simple for her to create a new identity. She'd use her real name—there was no reason for her to change it, and her reactions would be more realistic that way—but everything else would be fabricated. Within minutes, she'd become Mara Jade of Alderaan, recent academy graduate, TIE fighter pilot, newly transferred to the Accuser.
She leaned back in her chair and smiled. Celchu was slightly older than she, so it would be easy for her to fall into a "little sister" type of role and gain his trust. And after she had joined his group of defectors, she would strike and eliminate the treason once and for all.
Mara grabbed her datapad and turned to leave the library. She was more than a capable pilot, but she still wanted to get in some simulator practice before leaving for the Accuser.
But before she could leave, her attention turned to the computer terminal directly behind her—the one Lord Vader had been using. Her curiosity gaining the best of her, Mara took a seat at his station and attempted to call up the last program he'd used, but of course Vader had covered his tracks well. To the untrained eye, he had been doing innocent research on the Rebels, but Mara knew better. And there was a computer trick the Dark Lord might not how to block...
Sure enough, he didn't. Punching in the proper code, Mara pulled up the last file that had been accessed from the terminal.
He had been searching personnel records from the Outer Rim territories, careful never to input the exact search term, but instead narrowing down the results until he finally found what he had been looking for.
Her immediate thought was that Vader was searching for Prince Xizor's Black Sun connections again, and that the Emperor was going to be very annoyed that he was diverting his efforts from finding the Rebels. But to her surprise, the last file he'd been examining—and for a rather long time, according to the computer's records—contained information on a person she'd never heard of before.
Luke Skywalker.
Mara frowned, searching her memory, wondering if she had somehow forgotten that name, if he was one of the eager young officers she had met and later tried to forget in Court recently. But her memory was impeccable, and she was sure that she had never heard that name before. What could Vader want with this person?
She shook her head, ignoring that thought. She had her work to do, and Vader's interests were of no consequence to her. It would be best for her to forget that she'd ever checked up on him.
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Deep inside the catacombs of the planet Thila was the perfect location for a Rebel base, but living deep underground gave Leia Organa the creeps. She didn't like being stuck in a place where the Empire could sneak up on her. Sure, the base's commanders assured her that they had highly capable surveillance and security teams constantly on the lookout for impending attacks, but her nerves were still frayed at all times.
Nobody else seemed to be as disturbed by the base's location as she was, and that bothered her even more. Sure, there were leaders who wanted to stay mobile for security purposes, but they had no problem with the inherent location with the Thila base. It seemed like she was the only person bothered by living deep underground...except that wasn't entirely accurate—Luke had been on edge since they'd moved into the base, and had ordered Rogue Flight to be on patrol rotation at all times. Leia couldn't help but wonder why she and Luke were the only two people on base who wanted to get out of the mountains as soon as possible.
It was nearing the end of Leia's first Alliance Command meeting since before the Battle of Yavin, and she was more than ready to leave the briefing room and enjoy a nice, quiet evening to herself. She had been a member of Alliance High Command since before Alderaan, but since her father's death, she felt as if she had taken his place among the Alliance leadership. She struggled every day to fill the immense void he'd left in the group, and she often felt that she would never be able to succeed. She knew she had to keep herself from getting too stressed and having a nervous breakdown before the age of twenty-one.
Leia sighed and readjusted her focus as Mon Mothma, Commander in Chief of the Rebel Alliance, was about to bring up the topic on the agenda that most interested Leia—finding a permanent base. While some of the other Alliance leaders seemed comfortable here, others wanted to stay mobile or find a new base for security purposes.
"Now, with all that taken care of, I'd like to entertain discussion on possibilities for a permanent base," Mon said, looking regal as always despite their primitive living conditions. She had been stationed on the Thila base before the Battle of Yavin, and Leia had not had a conversation with the woman since long before Alderaan. Before the meeting began, Mon had taken Leia aside and they'd had a long talk about everything and nothing at all. Talking with Mon had given Leia some comfort about her place in the Alliance. She had known the Chandrilan senator since she was a child, and had been somewhat of her apprentice when she'd joined the senate. Mon had also been a confidante when Leia's mother had died; in fact, she was one of the few people still alive who knew that Leia was adopted. (Leia had also confided in Luke about her family history, mainly because he had been adopted as well and she felt a kinship with him.) Leia was very grateful that a woman like Mon Mothma was leading the Alliance, especially after the deaths of her father and Jan Dodonna.
"I still fail to see why a new base is necessary, Chief Mothma," Wesk Ruk'fey, Mothma's Chief of Staff, stated. The Bothan's fur rippled gently as he spoke. "Thila Command has been operating safely for several years."
General Airen Cracken, newly appointed director of Intelligence, shook his head. "That is exactly the reason why we need to move before the Empire finds us. The longer we stay in one place at a time, the closer the Empire comes to finding us and wiping out the entire command structure. I still advocate keeping Alliance Command with the fleet on a permanent basis."
"I concur with General Cracken," the director of Fleet Command, Admiral Ackbar, agreed. A Mon Calamari, he had recently escaped from slavery to the deceased Grand Moff Tarkin. "The fleet would be the safest place for all of us in Alliance Command, especially you, Chief Mothma."
Carlist Rieekan, another High Councilor, spoke up from beside Leia. "I still do not believe that the fleet is strong enough to act as a mobile base. Until we can muster a considerable number more capital ships and snubfighters, we would be better off staying on a planetary base."
Leia listened to the debate with interest, still unsure of her opinion on the matter, even though she knew she wanted to leave Thila as soon as possible. On the one hand, the Death Star had demonstrated the inherent weakness in having Alliance Command stationed in one permanent location. However, General Rieekan was also correct; the Alliance fleet was not yet strong enough to defend against an attack. And if the Imperials were to find them, they'd be facing an attack by none other than Darth Vader's forces. The Alliance fleet might be capable of escaping Vader's grasp, but if he were able to lock them in one place, they would be annihilated.
"I appreciate your concerns, General Cracken and Admiral Ackbar. I agree that it would be a good idea to stay as mobile as possible; however, I also have to agree with General Rieekan. I believe that it would be best for the Alliance to operate out of a planetary base for the time being."
General Cracken nodded slowly, still disagreeing with Mon but respecting her decision. "If we are to establish a new base, I will have to insist on several parameters for security purposes."
"Of course, General Cracken. Please work on that and forward them to me as soon as possible. In the meantime, may I entertain any suggestions for the location of a new base?" Nobody made any suggestions; there were plenty of smaller Rebel bases throughout the galaxy, but nothing that jumped to Leia's mind as the ideal place to hide the majority of the Alliance forces. As such, she was startled when Mon asked for her opinion on the subject.
"Me, ma'am?" Leia stammered, feeling utterly foolish in front of the older, more experienced members of Alliance Command.
The older woman gave her an encouraging smile. "I'm sorry, Chief Mothma, nothing jumps to mind at the moment." Then she got an idea… "But I could ask for Rogue Flight to scout out possible locations while they're on supply runs."
"Excellent idea, Princess Leia," Admiral Ackbar said. "We should contact all the starfighter squadrons, and have them focus on the same task."
General Amun Bryl, a Sullustan and the director of Starfighter Command, chittered in agreement. "I will pass along the instructions to all squadron commanders."
"It's settled, then. Alliance Command will continue to operate from the Thila base until a suitable replacement for the Yavin IV base can be located. In the meantime, General Cracken will continue to update us on Imperial activity in the area, and in the event an evacuation is required, we will rendezvous at the fleet. Any objections?"
Nobody had any, so Leia began to gather up her belongings, but a cough from Mon Mothma kept her in her seat. "Unfortunately, we have one more piece of business to take care of before I can adjourn the meeting. With General Dodonna's death, we now have a vacant Minister of War position. I would like to entertain nominations to succeed him."
The mood in the briefing room turned somber as each member of Alliance Command took a moment of silence to honor General Dodonna. Then, Admiral Ackbar spoke up. "Chief Mothma, I would like to nominate General Rieekan. He has been one of the Alliance's most decorated leaders and is more than capable of taking such a position."
"And I would like to nominate Admiral Ackbar for the same reasons," General Rieekan replied.
"Duly noted. Any other nominations? No? In that case, I will entertain a vote. All those in favor of General Rieekan, please raise your hands." Thirteen hands, all but General Rieekan's, rose in the air. The middle-aged general shook his head in amused exasperation. "Alright, all those in favor of Admiral Ackbar, please raise your hands."
General Rieekan's two hands shot up in the air.
Mon gave him a cheeky smile. "I'm sorry, General Rieekan, but you've been outvoted thirteen to two. Congratulations, Minister." She stood up to shake his hand.
"Thank you for the honor, ma'am. I hope to do Jan proud."
"I'm sure you will, Carlist."
With that, Mon adjourned the meeting and everyone else in the room swarmed around General Rieekan to offer congratulations. Once Leia had spoken to him, she left the room in a hurry, wanting to speak to Luke about Rogue Flight's impending assignment.
To her complete surprise, she found Han Solo waiting outside the briefing room, lounging against the wall and looking utterly bored. He straightened up at her appearance and approached her casually. "Hey, Princess. How was the meeting?"
"Fine, thank you," she replied, eyeing him suspiciously. "Did you and Chewbacca have a successful supply run?"
"I'm standing here in one piece, aren't I?" Han returned, his trademark lopsided grin coming to his mouth. Leia found it hard not to smile back when he did that. "Anyway. Are you hungry? I haven't eaten yet. I thought we could catch up over dinner."
"Really?" Leia was honestly taken aback. Han was being nice to her? Had the nine Corellian hells frozen over? Or was he just really intoxicated? She leaned forward slightly; his breath didn't smell like alcohol, so she concluded that it had to be the former.
"Yes, really. What, you got something better to do?"
"As a matter of fact, I do. I need to speak to Luke about an upcoming assignment."
"Oh. Luke. Right. Well, sure thing, Princess. Enjoy your meal with Luke."
"Captain Solo!" she exclaimed. He turned around and glared at her, hands on his hips, and she stalked towards him until they were face to face. "What is your problem?"
"I don't got a problem, sweetheart. What's yours?"
"I don't have to stand here and listen to this." She gave an exasperated sigh and tried to turn away, but he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her back to him. She felt her body flush at his touch and she mentally cursed herself for her involuntary reactions. She was a leader in the Rebel Alliance and yet she was allowing this scoundrel to affect her like she was some vapid schoolgirl. It was utterly embarrassing and had to stop!
"Just answer me one question, Princess. What's Luke got that I don't?"
"What?" Leia sputtered. "You're jealous? Of Luke?"
"Don't pretend you ain't noticed him mooning over you."
"We're friends, Captain Solo. That's all."
"Well, you might want to tell him that before he gets the wrong idea."
"This is ridiculous, Han! We're fighting a war! There are much more important things to worry about than personal relationships."
That lopsided grin came to Han's face again, and he leaned against the wall, practically gloating. "What?" Leia questioned, suddenly guarded.
His smile grew even bigger, and he leaned in, placing his hand on her shoulder. "You called me Han."
Leia blanched, realizing her mistake. She had told herself that as long as she called him Captain Solo their relationship would remain strictly formal. She cursed herself again and pushed away his hand. "Yes, so? That is your name, is it not?"
"Sure…Leia." Han brushed past her and sauntered down the hallway; Leia went to call out to him, but he turned around before she could open her mouth. "You go have a good dinner with Luke." He winked at her, and then he was gone.
After several moments, Leia let out a frustrated scream and began to stalk towards the mess.
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"Hey Luke, come sit down, we're taking bets!" Wes Janson called, waving Luke over to the table where the rest of Rogue Flight was eating dinner.
"What's going on?" Luke asked as he began to shovel food down his throat. Wes glared at him incredulously for a short moment—all of the Rogues seemed to be perpetually amused at Luke's voracious appetite—then shook his head and pointed at Hobbie.
"We're taking bets on how many times Hobbie's gonna have to get dipped in bacta before he turns twenty-five. I say fourteen."
"And I say that you are way underestimating," Wedge interjected. "Have you seen Hobbie's medical records?"
"Thanks, guys. Thanks a lot." The Ralltiir native had become to brunt of Wes' jokes since joining the Rogues, and the other pilots had swiftly followed suit. Even the normally quiet Zev Senesca couldn't resist a round of Hobbie-baiting. Luke had been tempted to put a stop to it at first, worried that it would damage Hobbie's morale, but to his surprise it seemed that the pessimistic pilot actually didn't mind being the brunt of their jokes. Perhaps he was destined to be the dour one.
"Ah, don't worry Hobbie. I'm sure it won't be more than ten times," Dack Ralter said. The youngest Rogue, he was even more exuberant than Luke, something that Wedge had admitted he didn't think could be possible. Luke knew he was still seen as an optimistic, somewhat naïve farm boy among others in the Alliance, but he knew that his experience as a commander and his history in battle was already starting to harden him. He would never allow himself to lose his optimistic characteristics, and would always strive to see the good in people, but he would never be as innocent as he'd been the day before he found his aunt and uncle's dead bodies outside his old homestead.
Luke did his best to smile at the other Rogues' banter, but could feel that familiar fog of guilt starting to hover over him, and knew there was little he could do to stop it. Perhaps when dinner was over he would try to get in some lightsaber practice. Maybe that would take his concentration off his guilt.
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As soon as she walked into the mess, Leia could tell that Luke was in a bad mood. He was surrounded by his pilots, but seemingly closed off to the rest of the galaxy. Lieutenant Janson was ribbing Lieutenant Klivian about something ridiculous, causing uproarious laughter from the other Rogues—all but Luke, who was smiling quietly into his glass to feign interest, but his eyes were distant and unfocused, betraying his true feelings. Lieutenant Antilles kept trying to pull his best friend into the conversation, but it was to no avail. Of course Luke, wanting to be a supportive and engaged commanding officer even in his foul mood, refused to leave the mess until all his pilots were finished eating. Eventually they began to trickle out of the room, leaving Luke alone at the table, silently brooding.
Leia took a deep breath and crossed the room, seating herself in the chair across from Luke. He was so lost in thought that he didn't even notice her. It wasn't until Leia reached over and stole a sip from his drink that he finally glanced up, startled. "Oh, hi, Leia. Sorry, I didn't see you come in."
"So I noticed." She had come to talk to him about the Rogues' new mandate, but his poor mood became her first concern. "Is everything alright, Luke?"
"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?" Luke said automatically.
"Because I know you. Something's the matter. Come on, you can tell me," she prodded, placing her hand over his comfortingly. Luke glanced down at their hands for a moment, then sighed.
"I'm supposed to be a Jedi, and I can't even tell when my friend is sneaking up on me," he mumbled, chastising himself.
Leia arched a brow. "Is that really what this is about, Luke?"
He sighed heavily. "Not really. But I am supposed to be a Jedi…and yet I let all those people die. Maybe I just don't have what it takes."
"What people?" Leia questioned. She knew that Luke had grown depressed days after the Death Star's destruction, suddenly realizing that he had been responsible for the deaths of every Imperial soldier on that battle station. He knew that not everyone on board was evil, or deserved to die. Many of them were innocent young men, like himself, merely doing their jobs as ordered.
But Leia had experienced the worst survivor's guilt of all in the Alliance, and she had comforted Luke to the best of her ability, reminding him that the Death Star needed to be destroyed for the greater good. Luke had eventually come around, accepting his responsibility as well as the necessity of his act, but now Leia wondered if he was falling back into his old guilt.
Apparently, that was not the case. "General Dodonna," Luke whispered, running his hand through his hair. "Everyone else on the base. Only three transports got through…the Falcon was one of them…the rest of them were killed. We could have gotten them out, Leia. The Renegades were there, too, and Gold Squadron…we could have gone back and helped them—"
"And what good would that have done?" Leia cut him off. "You were six snubfighters; you really think you could have taken out Vader's forces? Luke, you're a wonderful pilot—all of you are! But this is war, and sacrifices have to be made. You didn't let General Dodonna, or anyone else in the base, die. They stayed behind to make sure everyone else got out safely. Don't trivialize their sacrifices by blaming yourself."
At first, Leia thought Luke was going to continue protesting, but then he sighed, again looking embarrassed. "You're right, Leia. I guess I just still hate all this fighting."
"You will always hate the fighting, but that's what makes you Luke Skywalker. I would fear for the galaxy if you ever stop."
Luke looked up gratefully, and the two shared a tender smile. Leia once again leaned over to take Luke's hand. "And I know one other thing about you, Luke: if you had to sacrifice yourself for the greater good, you would…wouldn't you?"
He didn't even hesitate to answer. "Of course."
Leia squeezed his hand and grinned. "And you say you don't have what it takes to be a Jedi. Now cheer up; Chief Mothma's got another task for you Rogues."