CHAPTER 7
It was dark in the abandoned Rebel base, but Mara didn't mind. The darkness matched her mood.
Blowing out a breath, she rolled her eyes at herself. She needed to quit being so dramatic and just get the job done.
She'd been brooding ever since she and the others had left Commenor. Outwardly, she projected the image of a nervous lieutenant, worried about getting caught by the Empire but still anxious to join the Rebellion. Inwardly, she could not stop questioning how she could possibly do what she was about to do. The only thing that had gotten her through the days was her endless training as the Emperor's Hand, which kept her acting stoic and in control. Darillian and Ticarus had no idea that Mara was experiencing doubts. Tycho was still overly protective of her, but seemed to buy her assurances that she was okay.
She kept telling herself that she just needed to hold out a few hours longer. Then it would all be over.
Liar, a tiny voice inside her head hissed. She clenched her eyes shut, ignoring it, blocking out everything in the universe but what had become her mantra over the past several days:
You are the Emperor's Hand. Feelings, thoughts, and emotions do not matter. You serve the Empire and your Emperor. These men are traitors and deserve whatever happens to them.
She repeated this over and over until the butterflies in her belly finally started to subside. She could do this. She knew she could.
"—Rogues…classmate Klivian…leader Luke Skywalker…"
Mara's eyes snapped open. What name had Tycho just said? She went through all her memory enhancement techniques and, sure enough, he had mentioned Luke Skywalker. Wasn't that the person Darth Vader had been researching in the Emperor's library? He had gone through a lot of trouble to hide that fact. Perhaps Mara could now find out what was so special about this man…
Slowly, she made her way to where Tycho was talking to Darillian and Ticarus. They were eating some sort of dried rations and playing what looked to be sabacc. Tycho gave her an apologetic look when he saw her approaching. "We didn't wake you, did we?"
"No, I couldn't sleep." Tycho passed her a ration bar, and she gratefully accepted. She needed to build up her strength for tomorrow.
If he only knew that he was contributing to his downfall by being so nice to her…
"So what are you guys talking about?" Mara asked casually, hoping that Tycho would mention Skywalker again and she wouldn't have to awkwardly bring up the topic.
To her relief, he did. "I was just telling Rade and Zurel about some of the pilots who'll be picking us up."
"Oh?"
"I went to the academy with one of them—Hobbie Klivian. He's part of an elite group of pilots now, called Rogue Flight. There's only six of them, so who knows, maybe we'll be able to join their group."
"Maybe," Mara mused.
"Anyway, their leader is Luke Skywalker."
"Never heard of him," Mara lied. "Is he good?"
Tycho laughed. "You could say that. He came to the Alliance out of nowhere, and ended up getting their biggest kill yet."
Mara stared at him blankly for a moment…and then everything suddenly clicked. "You mean…the Death Star?" Her voice was incredulous, and she didn't even need to feign her surprise. Her master had tasked Vader with uncovering the Rebel pilot's identity, since Isard and the rest of Intelligence couldn't seem to come up with such a simple piece of information. Upon his attack on the Rebel base, Vader had said that all the Rebel leaders had been killed and he'd been unable to extract the information Palpatine wanted.
But yet Mara had met him in the Emperor's private library, and he'd been searching for this Luke Skywalker. It was too big of a coincidence. Vader knew the pilot's identity, and he had lied about it. To Palpatine! The implications were incredible.
Tycho nodded, unaware of Mara's internal revelation. "Like I said, he got the big one. As you can imagine, I'm hoping we'll get to show him our stuff. I feel like I've got a lot to make up for."
"We all do," Darillian agreed.
Beside him, Ticarus nodded. "Going from flying in a third-rate squadron to serving under the pilot who blew up the Death Star? Yeah, that sounds like a good trade to me."
"You think the Rebels have the same attitude towards women pilots as the Empire?" Mara asked, trying her best to be involved in the conversation despite the unease she was suddenly feeling.
"I should hope not," Tycho said. "Between Mon Mothma and Princess Leia, they've got their share of female leaders. If they do have something against female pilots, then they're pretty hypocritical, don't you think?"
"Yeah. So this Skywalker guy," she said, unable to drop the subject. "Besides blowing up the Death Star, what's so special about him?"
Tycho shrugged. "Hope of the Rebellion and all, I guess. I'm sure we'll find out more once we get there. Hobbie didn't want to give away too much in our conversations, just in case."
"That's probably smart," Mara said, once again unable to ignore the irony of the situation.
The three men started talking again, but Mara's mind was elsewhere. There had to be something more to this Skywalker than the fact that he blew up the Death Star. Not that it mattered, though; he'd be dead soon. The other implications swirled through her mind, however. She still could not comprehend that Vader had lied to the Emperor about knowing the pilot's identity! She was almost tempted to contact her master right now and let him know that Vader had been deceiving him.
But that could wait, she told herself. She had to get through her mission first. Tycho and the others would be taken into custody, and the Rebels—including Skywalker—would be killed. Then she would return to Imperial Center and inform the Emperor that Vader had in fact known the identity of the pilot who'd blown up the Death Star.
And then Palpatine would commend Mara for her successes and everything would go back the way it was. Maybe it would be even better, because after committing such unthinkable treachery, Vader would surely be gone.
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Leia was finally starting to become engrossed in the report she was reading when a loud roar coming from the hold caused her to jump and lose her place on her datapad.
For the fifteenth time.
Sighing, she slammed her datapad on what had become her bunk in the Millennium Falcon. Her room had previously been one of the ship's holds, but since Leia had been flying a lot with Han recently, it had been converted into spare quarters and had unofficially become hers. When she'd entered the ship a few days ago, the room even looked like it had been cleaned, and there were some artificial flowers on the makeshift bedside table.
Leia had to hand it to Han; he could be quite the charmer when he tried.
"Just move the damn piece, Chewie!"
But more than often, he was incredibly frustrating and annoying.
It was pointless to try to continue working, so Leia stomped her way to the hold. She stood in the entryway for long moments while Han and Chewbacca completely ignored her, so intent were they on playing their little holochess game. Even after she huffed several times, they still took no notice of her. Only after she stalked to the acceleration couch and plopped down next to Chewbacca did Han finally look up.
"Well, if it isn't the Princess! I was beginning to wonder if you would deign to show yourself to us peasants on this trip."
"I beg your pardon, Captain Solo, but as you are well aware I am the property of Princess Leia and therefore do not qualify as 'peasantry.'"
"Whatever you say, Goldenrod."
Leia rolled her eyes and reminded herself that she couldn't kill Captain Solo until after her mission was finished. But when they got back to the fleet…oh, Luke was going to have to keep her far away from this insolent, arrogant, infuriating man.
"Yes, well. I was trying to get some work done but found myself rather distracted."
"That's a pity, Your Highnessness." Leia made a face but Han ignored her, focusing intently on his next move. Chewbacca roared but Han put his hand out, cutting off his co-pilot. "Alright, alright! Don't get excited!"
"I'm terribly sorry sir, but Chewbacca is correct. That would have been an illegal move."
"Thanks for the advice, Professor."
"Oh, you're very welcome, sir."
The game continued on for several minutes longer. Leia tried to resume reading her datapad, but her attention kept getting stolen away by the game in front of her, which Han was horrible at. She couldn't help but smile at how frustrated he was getting. He was almost…appealing in such a state.
Oh, whatwas she thinking? Leia scowled at herself and placed her datapad in front of her face, trying to cover up the growing redness on her cheeks.
"Oh Captain Solo, I do believe that Chewbacca has won again!" Threepio exclaimed. Leia looked up just in time to see Han throw something across the room in disgust. "According to my records, Chewbacca has won six times while you have only won once. I must say that I am surprised. I would have expected someone of your background to be a much more competitive player—"
"That's enough!" Han growled. Beside him, the huge Wookiee placed his hands behind his head and wuffed a few times in amusement.
Leia grinned at the scene in front of her. "What's the matter, Captain Solo? Are you not a competitive holochess player?"
"Oh, don't you give me any lip, sweetheart. First of all, it's called dejarik."
"I know that," Leia snapped. "I am quite familiar with the game." It was a bold-faced lie, but Han didn't need to know that. He loved to insist that, despite her background in the Imperial senate and the Rebellion, there were still many things in the galaxy she was ignorant of. He would never let her hear the end of it if he knew she had never played dejarik.
"Sure you did. Well, if you're so familiar with dejarik, why don't we have a little friendly competition?"
"I'm sorry, but I have much more important things to do with my time."
"What, like have indecent thoughts about me while you watch me play dejarik?"
"Excuse me? That is highly inappropriate for you to say!"
"Hey, I'm not the one who was just blushing, sweetheart."
"Oh, shut up!"
Han glanced at Chewbacca and grinned. "'Shut up?' Wow, Chewie. I must have gotten her pretty upset for her to resort to such uncouth language."
Leia shook her head and vowed not to let him get the best of her. "Fine," she snapped, slamming her datapad on the couch next to her. "You want to play? Let's play."
"You're on, Princess." Han smiled and reset the board, his eyes twinkling mischievously the entire time. "Why don't we make this even more exciting?"
"Not that playing dejarik with you doesn't already promise to be the most exciting thing I've ever done in my life, but what do you propose, Captain Solo?"
"Oh, just a simple wager."
"I'm not gambling, if that's what you're suggesting."
"Oh, I would never suggest that the highly exalted Princess Leia Organa lower herself so much as to gamble with credits."
"Then what are you suggesting?" Leia asked, ignoring his incessant goading. It was almost like he enjoyed making her so angry!
"How about if you win, Chewie and I will be quiet for the rest of the trip." Chewbacca growled in protest but Han stopped him before he could continue "Now, now, Chewie, she's our guest, we need to make compromises. So, what do you say…Leia?"
It took all her strength to force herself not to glare vibroblades at him. She refused to let him see that he affected her so much. "That actually sounds lovely, Captain Solo. And if you win?"
"Oh, nothing special. How about if I win, I get to take you on a date?"
For a moment, there was silence. Then Leia threw her head back and laughed louder than she'd laughed in a very, very long time. She knew that such behavior was so unlike the Princess and leader of the Rebellion that she'd become, but she didn't care. It was too humorous not to laugh.
"What so funny?" Han demanded. He, apparently, did not see the humor in his suggestion at all.
"You want to take me on a date?"
"Why not? What, you think someone like me doesn't know how to treat a lady like you?"
In the back of her mind, Leia was aware that this was the most sincere compliment Han had ever given her, but she was still too amused to take it to heart. "Fine, Captain Solo. Your terms are acceptable."
Han gave her that lopsided grin. "Then the game is on, Princess."
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The game lasted longer than any of his games with Chewie, and Han actually had to try hard to compete with her. He had expected that it would be easy, but either Leia was a natural at dejarik, or she had been feigning ignorance before. Her moves indicated she knew what she was doing, and eventually Han realized that she had him cornered. That was nothing he could do.
Sure enough, Leia's piece walked over to his lone remaining creature, picked it up, and threw it on the floor.
She looked up and flashed him a brilliant smile, then sat back in the couch, looking entirely sure of herself. "Well, Captain Solo, I do believe that makes me the victor."
"Princess Leia is correct, Captain Solo. Her move terminates the game and makes her the winner. According to the terms of your bet, you must now remain quiet for the rest of the trip."
"Thanks, Threepio. I don't know what I'd do without you," Han deadpanned.
"Oh, you're quite welcome, sir!"
"Well, Captain." Leia stood, taking her datapad with her. "I'll be heading back to my quarters now, to get some work done. It was a pleasure doing business with you."
Han watched her retreating form as she left the hold, a rare sense of melancholy washing over him. Sensing his mood, Chewbacca pawed him and mumbled a soft question.
"I can't do that, Chewie," Han replied. "She's a Princess. You think she'd really give a guy like me the time of day?"
Han got up off the couch and headed towards the cockpit. The Wookiee got up to follow him, asking another question.
"She doesn't have any other choice," Han answered, shutting the cockpit door before Chewbacca could follow him inside.
The smuggler settled back in the captain's chair and watched the patterns of hyperspace out of the viewport. If she doesn't like you, why does she keep flying with you? his old friend had asked. Briefly, Han allowed himself to consider that Chewie was right. If Leia didn't like him, why else would she agree to fly with him on all these missions? She was a High Councilor in the Rebellion; surely she could demand a different escort if she really hated being around him so much.
Han huffed at himself and forced himself to forget about her. She was only flying with him so he'd stick around in the Rebellion. That was it. After all, she was a Princess, and he was a smuggler. She was infuriating, stuck-up, and conceited beyond belief. Definitely not the kind of woman he'd ever want to be with.
And he couldn't stop thinking about her.
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It was a beautiful morning on Dantooine. The perfect day to relax, have a picnic, or hike in the rolling meadows.
For Mara Jade, it was the perfect day to be the Emperor's Hand.
She glanced at her chrono again. Fifteen minutes now.
Her eyes closed, blocking out the view of the man sitting in front of her. The man she was about to betray. Could she do this? Could she really do this?
How could she not? This was who she was. She had no other choice.
Without even thinking, Mara pulled her vibroblade from its sheath on her upper thigh. She grabbed a sharpening rod from her pack and began to scrape it against the blade. The screeching, metallic sound was music to her ears. She'd picked up this habit long ago, when she'd first been sent on solo missions. Whenever she got bored, she'd sharpen her blade. It calmed her.
Mara had never before wondered what it said about her, that sharpening blades calmed her nerves. Now, it only seemed fitting.
"What are you doing?"
The soft voice jolted Mara from her activity. Tycho had turned around and was giving her a curious look.
Mara shrugged and did her best to pretend that nothing was wrong. "Calms the nerves."
Tycho smiled. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised that someone likes you finds sharpening blades to be calming."
Despite the gravity of the situation, a grin involuntarily tugged at her lips. He knew her so well…and yet he hardly knew her at all. "What can I say? I'm an open book, Tycho."
Her friend chuckled, then glanced at his chrono. "Ten minutes now," he announced to the others.
Mara nodded to herself. She'd be hearing from the fleet soon. They were supposed to home in on her signal, then swoop in and capture the traitors. If everything went right, Mara wouldn't have to raise a finger.
If it didn't…well, she was prepared to point her blaster at Tycho's back.
"Hey Tycho?" Mara asked suddenly, surprising herself with her words.
"Yeah?"
"I want to ask you something."
After a few moments, her Alderaanian friend settled down next to her. "What is it?" he asked softly.
She'd been thinking a lot about what he told her the night before they left the Accuser—that Palpatine was the cause of everything bad in the Empire. Deep down, Mara knew that everything that happened in the Empire was by the Emperor's will…but she'd never before blamed him for all the horrible things she'd learned went on the Empire. She'd never before associated him with people like Vader.
Her hands started shaking, and she sharpened her blade faster, trying to keep Tycho from noticing. "Do you really believe that everything bad in the Empire is Palpatine's fault?"
Tycho regarded her for a moment, a vacant expression on his face. "You don't?"
"I don't know," she replied honestly. "I've never really thought about it before."
Hesitantly, Tycho reached out and placed a hand over Mara's, stopping her movements. "It's difficult, isn't it?" he whispered. "Realizing that someone you once respected is actually the cause of all the bad things in the galaxy."
"You have no idea."
"I wish I'd figured it out sooner. I should have defected earlier, with Hobbie and Biggs. I should have flown against the Death Star. Instead…"
"Instead what?"
"…Instead I remained a loyal Imperial, and was speaking to my family via the HoloNet when Alderaan was destroyed."
"Oh gods, Tycho." Mara gaped at him for a moment. He had never divulged this information before. "That's…awful. I'm so sorry."
"We all lost people we loved that day. I didn't know it at the time…but I was watching them die. I just thought the feed had cut off for some reason. After I realized what the Empire had done, I couldn't stand to be there any longer."
"Because of Palpatine?"
"Because of Palpatine. Because of Tarkin and Vader. Everyone! Corruption starts at the top, Mara. I know that there are noble soldiers in the Empire. I met a lot of them at the academy; one of my instructors was one of the most honorable people I've ever met. But I realized that I couldn't stay in the Empire for them, not when someone like Palpatine was ruling with an iron fist. I mean, look at the people Palpatine surrounds himself with. Are they noble? Are they honorable? None of them are. And as my father always told me, you can tell a lot about a man by the people he surrounds himself with.
"Once I realized all that…I knew I couldn't surround myself with Imperials anymore. I had to get out. I had to fight for the Rebels, even if that meant signing my death mark. At least I'd be able to live with myself, no matter how short my life might be."
Mara opened her mouth to speak but couldn't find any words to say. Instead she nodded and began sharpening her blade again. "I know I'm doing the right thing," she said finally, more to herself than to Tycho. "It's just really hard."
Tycho nodded in understanding. "It'll be over soon, and then we'll be at the Rebellion. I'm sure all the guys will make you feel right at home."
"Sure," Mara replied absently.
They grew quiet again, waiting for the rendezvous countdown to finish. She glanced at her chrono…five minutes now until the Rebels arrived. Not long after that, the Empire would follow.
She sighed.
Then, just as her breath had grown slow and steady, Tycho's words began to echo ominously through her mind:
Look at the people Palpatine surrounds himself with. Are they noble? Are they honorable?
There was only one answer Mara could come up with:
No.
She distrusted them. She disliked them—Vader, Tarkin, Isard, Pestage. Everyone else in his retinue. How many times had she questioned why Palpatine placed so much trust in them? Why he gave them so much power? She had never been able to understand why such a noble man as the Emperor would have someone like Vader as the second-in-command of the Empire. How many times had she wondered if Palpatine would finally come to his senses and get rid of the man?
But what if...what if she had been wrong all along? What if, instead of being the noble, honest man she'd been led to believe...what if the Emperor was just like Vader?
Or what if he was worse?
She suddenly knew that it all was true...and Palpatine had chosen her to be his precious Hand. She held a trusted position among his closest acolytes. What did that say about her?
She was about to betray a person she knew was completely honest and loyal; a person who, against all her better judgment, she had come to think of as a friend. She would point a blaster at his back while Imperial commandos led him and the others away. When it was all over they would surely be executed, and they would go to their graves knowing that it had been Mara Jade, the Emperor's Hand, who had betrayed them.
Every fiber of her being screamed out not to do this, yet she had no other choice. This was her life. She'd been raised and trained to do the Emperor's bidding without any regard for her feelings and emotions. She didn't know how to be anything else. The thought of betraying Tycho and the others made her feel sick, but the thought of failing her master made her want to stop living.
There was only one conclusion she could draw.
Her comlink beeped softly, insistently. Mara glared at it for a moment, then a switch flipped in her mind. Her jaw set in determination and her holdout blaster jumped to her steady hand.
Rising to her feet, the Emperor's Hand clicked her comlink once in affirmation, then followed Tycho and the others into the morning sun.
Perhaps she did belong with the Empire after all.