CHAPTER 8
Blaster firmly in hand, Mara felt calmer than she'd been in weeks. All her training took hold and she settled into her old mindset, separating her thoughts from her actions and focusing on the task at hand.
"They're here," Tycho announced, voice suddenly somber and grave, but also determined.
Mara glanced into the sky, shielding her eyes from the bright sun, and saw a Corellian YT freighter approaching from the south. There was no sign of the accompanying X-wings, but Mara could sense that they were around, somewhere, waiting to strike if necessary.
Before she could think further on a possible firefight, the freighter touched down and the landing ramp lowered slowly. At the top of the ramp stood a petite, brown-haired woman. Her hair was twisted into a braid worn around her head and she was clad in a plain white flightsuit. For all intents and purposes, she seemed to be a technician or aide, but Mara knew that looks could be very deceiving. She'd seen this woman before. It was Leia Organa.
Mara placed her finger closer to her blaster's trigger; even at this distance she'd be able to burn a hole in Organa's chest without even trying. Slowly, she kneeled to the ground, ready to steady her hand and get a shot off—
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It took a few seconds before her eyes adjusted to the bright Dantooine sunlight, then Leia walked a few steps down the ramp, still overly aware of her surroundings but committed to the task at hand.
All she saw were four pilots standing about fifty meters from where the Falcon had touched down. At least it didn't seem to be an ambush.
"Recognition code?" Leia called.
One of the pilots, a blond man with the typical build of a fighter pilot, yelled back. "Mern-dorn-jenth-aurek. Reply?"
"Peth-besh-forn-usk."
The blond man glanced to his companions, then nodded. "Permission to come aboard?"
Leia nodded back and pulled out her comlink, ready to call to Han and Luke to take off as soon as the defectors got on board…
She turned, a shiver suddenly running down her spine, almost like a premonition that something was horribly wrong. She had never felt anything like it in all her years in the Rebellion…it was like a whisper in her mind, telling her to run, and that something very bad was about to happen.
Her astute brown eyes surveyed the area and she still saw nothing...then her attention was drawn to the young woman with flame-red hair, kneeling in steady concentration. Was that…was she holding a blaster? Leia reached for her own and opened her mouth to scream—
And then a loud explosion rocked the Falcon from behind. Leia almost toppled off the ramp but caught herself at the last moment.
When she glanced back to the others, the redheaded woman was on her feet, blaster brandished towards the oncoming stormtroopers, her face twisted in absolute, pure rage.
Leia didn't have a chance to think on that before Han's voice started screaming out of her comlink and the Falcon began to rise back into the air.
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Admiral Ozzel stepped forward on the bridge of the Executor, to the man in black standing stoically in front of the viewports. "Our fighters have begun their attack, my Lord."
"Good," Darth Vader replied without turning. "Inform General Veers that his troops may begin their surface assault."
"Yes my lord. And the informant?" Ozzel had been made aware that a high-ranking Imperial agent was accompanying the defectors on the ground. He certainly did not want to incur Vader's wrath by having the agent's death occur on his watch.
To his surprise, Vader simply waved his hand in complete disinterest. "The troops have their orders."
Ozzel's brow furrowed in confusion, but the past few months had taught him not to question Vader. Those who did usually ended up dead. "Yes my lord," he repeated, before heading to the comm station to relay the message to Veers.
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"That was weapons fire!" Han yelled. "What the hell is going on, Chewie?"
The Wookiee yelled furiously, pawing at the sensor readings and desperately trying to determine who was attacking them and where they were coming from. Without a second thought, Han's hands danced over the controls, bringing the Falcon into the air again. "Watch yourself, Princess, we're going airborne!" As they lifted up he banked into a steep turn, facing the direction he thought the attack had come from.
There, right in front of him, was the answer:
Imperial TIE fighters.
The Falcon's comm hissed to life before he had a chance to open a line. "Han, TIE fighters incoming!"
"We see 'em, junior—scratch that, we feel them! How many are there?"
"At least two squadrons in the atmosphere, and more up above," Luke replied glumly. "It's an ambush, Han. They knew we were coming."
"Let's worry about that later," Han snapped as he pulled the Falcon into another steep turn. "Can you guys cover us while we get the hell out of here?"
Luke's reply was cut off as Leia came rushing into the cockpit. "What are you doing?" she screamed.
"What does it look like we're doing, sweetheart? I'm getting you the hell out of here!"
"No, Han! We've got to go back! We can't just leave them there to die!"
"Oh we sure can. They knew what they were signing up for! I'm not gonna have Princess Leia's death happen on my watch just so we can save the lives of four Imps!"
"Rebels, Han. They're Rebels now."
He was so infuriated that he didn't even realize that she called him by his first name. But looking back on the situation, he wondered if perhaps that was the reason why he actually listened to her.
"Dammit Leia!" he yelled, slamming his hand down on the control panel. "I don't know how you get me dragged into these things!"
Leia grinned and leaned towards the comm. "Luke? It's Leia! We're going back around to pick up the defectors on the ground. Can the Rogues cover us?"
"We're on it."
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The Rogues pulled in a tight circle around the Falcon, engaging the few TIE fighters that actually approached this close to the ground. Briefly, Luke allowed himself to wonder why so few of the TIEs were engaging in the fight when there were many more showing on his sensor board.
Then he noticed the stormtroopers rushing towards the defectors, their blasters out and blazing and most definitely not set for stun.
Luke grit his teeth and flipped his comm. "Three, this is Leader. I'm breaking off from formation to provide cover for those on the ground."
Wedge's voice returned loud and clear in his headset. "Copy, Leader. Need assistance?"
"Negative, Three. Keep on the TIEs."
"Copy that."
Luke jerked his flightstick toward the direction of the Imperial troops. The four defectors had taken cover behind a rocky outcropping and were fighting back valiantly, but Luke knew that if the troopers managed to get close enough, it would be a slaughter. He refused to let them die. He had done enough of that in his short time with the Alliance military.
He pulled the trigger and laser fire rained down on the troopers beneath him. Some of the more tenacious commandos weren't deterred, so Luke was forced to pull around for another pass and fire at them.
On his second pass, he saw the Millennium Falcon slowly lower to the ground about fifty meters behind the defectors. In his mind, Luke yelled at them to run while they could, while he was keeping the troopers back and the other Rogues were taking care of the TIEs. He wished that he could speak to everyone through the Force. Or he just wished that the defectors had a headset on the ground.
As the thought went through his mind, one of the defectors glanced up sharply, looking directly at his X-wing. Luke's breath caught in his throat and it seemed as if their eyes locked onto each other, even through the vast distance.
It was the woman—Mara Jade.
Had she actually heard him? Was that even possible?
After a moment the woman turned back to the others and grabbed the leader's arm, pulling him out of their cover. She looked up again, then the group of four took off running full tilt towards the Falcon.
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The first explosion rocked Mara to the core.
She sensed the TIEs approaching. She had expected them. They were needed to take out the Rebellion's precious pilots, as well as the Corellian freighter.
When they started firing on the freighter, Mara allowed herself a small smile. This is it, she thought to herself. My job is done.
Then the green laser fire started coming dangerously close to the four of them. Tycho grabbed her hand and pulled her to the ground before she had a chance to protest, or put her blaster at his back. It was the perfect time for an ambush; she knew she could get off three quick shots with absolutely no resistance. They would never even know what hit them. Then she could announce her presence to the Imperial troops and remain safely under cover while they took care of the Rebels.
A stray blaster bolt flew by her head, and another explosion hit mere meters from where they were lying under cover.
It was that explosion that woke her up.
Imperial troops were firing on her. Imperial troops were firing on her. Their weapons were not set for stun. They were not aiming to scare or to force a surrender. They were shooting to kill.
Palpatine had lied. He had lied to her! The traitors were supposed to be taken into custody and given a trial, as a warning to all the other potential defectors! That was what always happened. She always took her marks into custody unless they threatened her life.
But they hadn't posed a threat; they hadn't even been given a chance! They'd been ambushed, with no chance to defend themselves, and yet the troops were still shooting to kill. Palpatine had lied!
...Or had he?
Had he ever said to Mara at the defectors wouldn't be immediately killed? Had he ever given her any confirmation that the traitors would be taken alive?
He hadn't. She'd just assumed that would be the case, because that was what had always happened on her missions.
On her missions.
But this mission was no longer hers.
It never had been.
This mission had always been about Palpatine reasserting his will over her. Reminding her that she was the Emperor's Hand. That she was born to carry out his will without question.
And she had been about to go along with it all, until he had made the biggest mistake of his life.
Part of her mind screamed to put down her weapon, that she was firing on Imperial troops, that she needed to stop immediately and offer herself up to their mercy. Surely she could quote her recognition code and they would stop firing.
But the other part of her didn't care.
It was the Emperor's training that ultimately caused Mara to turn her blaster on her fellow soldiers. She had been trained to be ruthless, and taught never to risk her life for those who threatened her. These Imperial troops, no matter whose orders they followed, had done just that. They had fired on her. By doing so, they had forfeited their right to live.
So she followed all of her training as the Emperor's Hand to defend her life, and the lives of the traitors at her side.
Her shots came fast and furious and she took down many more stormtroopers than a TIE fighter pilot with her training should have been able to. She briefly remembered her cover story but she was too entrenched in battle to care. She'd deal with the repercussions later. Thankfully, the others seemed too busy to notice her sudden expert marksmanship.
She kept firing, rage bubbling up inside her at this treachery. She had given her entire life to Palpatine, and this was his thanks. An attempt on her life, all because she had had the audacity to question one of his subordinates. Was this just an elaborate test? Did he want her to quote her recognition code, blow her cover, and be forced to face those she'd betrayed? Did he want to see how many stormtroopers she could take down on her own? Did he want her to turn her weapon on the traitors, saving the Imperial troops the trouble?
What had he thought was going to happen? He had been responsible for all of her training. He knew that she'd been trained to defend her life above all others. It didn't matter that it was Imperials firing at her. There was no other option.
So she kept shooting at the Imperial troops, taking them down expertly, but she soon became aware that there were just too many of them. Eventually the four of them would be overwhelmed, and then they would die.
Her thoughts were shattered by laser fire coming from a swiftly approaching X-wing fighter. The ship circled around, laying down suppression fire between the stormtroopers and where Mara was taking cover. It kept some of the troops back but others were relentless, and the X-wing was forced to make another pass. It flew back and forth, keeping the commandos from coming too close to the defectors.
Then Mara was aware that the YT freighter was approaching from behind, apparently deciding that the defectors were worth all this trouble after all. Still firing her blaster, she glanced over her shoulder, trying to gauge the distance to the ship. She didn't know if they could make it.
Run.
Mara jumped, startled beyond belief at the voice inside her head. In all her life, she had only heard one voice speaking in her mind—Palpatine's. His voice was all encompassing, oppressive, and demanding of her attention. Whenever they broke contact, she felt lost. It was like an addiction, and even throughout this mission that had shaken her to the core, she couldn't go more than a few days without the barest amount of contact with her master.
But this voice…this was pure, like sunlight, not demanding or harsh, but encouraging, helpful, and full of hope. It was a voice that promised freedom and a life of her own, away from those who strived to control her.
She glanced up to the X-wing circling overhead. It was far away, but she could still see the man inside. Even through his helmet, she could sense his eyes boring into hers—
Run!
She heard the voice again, and this time she knew—
The pilot circling her was Luke Skywalker, the Rebel that Vader had lied about to the Emperor—
He could use the Force!
Without another thought, Mara grabbed Tycho by the elbow and pushed him towards the freighter. "Run!" she yelled at him and the others.
They sprinted as fast as they could, Skywalker laying down cover fire the entire way.
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Leia was practically bouncing on her toes at the back of the Falcon, watching out the landing ramp as the ship precariously approached the firefight between the stormtroopers and the defectors. The defectors would have been slaughtered had Luke not broken off to fly cover. Thankfully, the other Rogues had been able to protect the Falcon on their own. Leia was once again grateful that Rogue Flight accompanied all her missions. They were certainly worth their weight in gold.
The ship slowed to a stop about fifty meters from the small outcropping where the defectors had taken cover. Before she could protest, Han's voice came in over her comm. "Can't go any further; bring 'em in!" His voice sounded both frustrated and apologetic. Leia made a mental note to put him in for a commendation after this mission was over. Not that he would care much about it, any more than he had about that medal she'd given him months ago, that he'd probably immediately thrown away.
Leia crept down the ramp as much as she could, then the Falcon suddenly lurched to the side and she gasped, but was pulled back to safety by a pair of large, hairy hands. She glanced over her shoulder to find Chewbacca behind her. He growled an instruction; thankfully, Leia had been around the Wookiee long enough to have a basic knowledge of Shyriiwook, and thought she understood what he was telling her.
"You want me to lean over and pull them up?" she asked.
Chewbacca nodded vigorously in confirmation and growled again. "Okay…" she replied hesitantly, worried that they were still so far off the ground but well aware that Chewbacca would never let her fall.
After several moments she was in place, and just in time—the defectors had arrived at the Falcon.
The blond man—the Alderaanian named Tycho Celchu—was the first to jump up and grab her wrist. With the help of the strong Wookiee behind her, Celchu was pulled to safety. He then reached out to his comrades, dark-haired men named Ticarus and Darillian.
The woman—Mara Jade—was the last one left, far behind the others. Leia stared intently at her, remembering the sense of danger she'd felt before the Imperials had arrived, and wondering if this woman had been the source of the ambush…
Even if she was, Leia couldn't leave her on Dantooine. If Jade was an informer, she needed to be questioned. Perhaps Luke could question her when they got back to the fleet. He was always a good judge of character.
Jade was running towards the Falcon at full speed, Luke in his X-wing doing his best to keep back the pursuing stormtroopers. Celchu even started laying down his own suppression fire, and the other pilots followed suit.
But Jade turned back, her face twisted with betrayal, and she tried to get a few more shots off at the advancing stormtroopers—
Then one of the blaster bolts connected with her calf, tearing a scream of anger from her lips. She immediately fell to the ground, snarling with rage, and fired back, taking out the trooper that had shot her. She started crawling towards the Falcon as fast as she could but it was no use—
She wasn't fast enough. The troopers were going to overtake her.
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Luke gasped as a blaster bolt hit Mara's leg and she tumbled to the ground, her rage and anguish clearly radiating through the Force. He could so clearly feel her pain and her emotions—what did that mean?
Could she possibly be strong in the Force, too?
The thought of having another Force sensitive person in the Alliance thrilled him to the core. He wouldn't have to be alone anymore…they could train together…they could teach each other and learn from the others' strengths.
As another blaster bolt came precariously close to Mara, who was now struggling to claw her way towards the Falcon, Luke chided himself. She wasn't going to make it to the Falcon on her own. He needed to do something nowif she was going to survive long enough for him to even ask her about the Force.
He yanked his flightstick and aimed his X-wing directly at the ground. "Artoo, I need you to keep the X-wing steady and shoot at the stormtroopers, got it?"
The droid chirped and Luke glanced at the data screen. AFFIRMATIVE.
"Thanks, Artoo!"
When the ship was just several meters above the ground, Luke switched over to automatic pilot and was out of the cockpit in seconds, dropping into a roll when he hit the ground. He brandished his lightsaber and blocked the stormtroopers' shots to the best of his ability, silently chastising himself for not practicing more with his remote. Then the X-wing's weapons systems flared to life and Artoo began to lay waste to the oncoming commandos.
Luke grinned and turned around, no longer having to worry about the troopers. He sprinted toward Mara, who was still crawling as fast as she could. When he reached her, she gazed up at him with hard green eyes.
Hesitantly, almost as if he was worried that she would slap him, he held out his hand. "I'm Luke Skywalker!" he yelled. He bit down on his tongue to keep the rest of that old declaration from coming out of his mouth.
Mara continued to stare at him blankly, glancing back and forth from his face to his hand. "Take my hand!" he urged her.
She shook her head. "Leave me alone," she whispered, her voice as cold as ice. "It was my fault I got hit. Go while you still can."
Luke shook his head right back. "My droid has got them pinned down!" At that moment, there was more weapons fire, this time coming from the Falcon.He grinned. "See? We've got even more back-up. Now come on!"
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Mara was again tempted to tell Skywalker to leave her the hell alone. It was her fault for getting injured; she should have kept running, but her anger distracted her and forced her to turn her attention back to the stormtroopers. He should leave her there to die; that's what she was taught to do in the same situation. Don't let another person's stupidity threaten your life and the success of your mission.
And even after Palpatine's betrayal, the thought of going with the Rebels filled her with an incredible sense of dread. They would certainly find out who she was…and then what?
But she couldn't go back to the Empire. Not after this.
What options were there?
"Come on!" Skywalker shouted at her.
His shout brought her back to life. One thing was for sure: she couldn't let herself die.Not by Palpatine's hand.
She was a fighter. She'd always been a fighter, and would die fighting. She could no more stop defending herself than she could stop breathing. That self-preservation, even more than her life as the Emperor's Hand, was the essential core of her being.
Making her decision—to live, no matter what the cost—she reached up and grabbed Skywalker's hand. She'd deal with the consequences later.
He pulled her off the ground with surprising strength and placed her gently over his shoulder. If any other man had ever tried to do a similar thing, she would have most assuredly hurt them…but times had changed, it seemed.
Skywalker ran fast, covering the distance to the Corellian freighter in seconds, his lightsaber held to guard the entire time. Mara watched it as she bounced against his back, and wished that she had kept her own, but hoping that she would never need it again.
They reached the landing ramp and Tycho was there, holding out his hand. After she pulled herself up on the ramp she turned around, facing him again. "Thank you," she whispered softly.
Skywalker nodded, his gaze remaining locked on hers…then he turned and bolted towards his X-wing.
"Go Han, they're all in!"
Mara heard Organa's yell into the comm, but she paid it no attention. Instead she glanced at Tycho, Darillian, and Ticarus. They seemed relieved, and Mara was too, for a second—
Then, as she looked towards open space and realized what was there, waiting for her, she knew that it wasn't over yet. Not by a long shot.
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"Lord Vader?"
The Sith Lord turned around slowly, already aware of what Admiral Ozzel was about to tell him, and not at all pleased with the turn of events on the planet.
The aging admiral swallowed under Vader's glare. "My lord, it appears that the Millennium Falcon and the accompanying X-wing fighters have made their way through Dantooine's atmosphere."
"Yes, admiral. What do you plan to do about it?"
"My lord?"
"You have a plan to destroy the Rebel ships, do you not?"
"Of…of course, sir." The admiral turned abruptly and began issuing orders to Captain Piett. "Order several squadrons to intercept."
"Captain Piett?" Vader said without shifting his attention from the viewports at the front of the Executor's bridge.
"Yes, my lord?" the captain stammered, never having been addressed by the Dark Lord personally.
"Be sure that you send the 181st." He wanted his very best pilots to take care of Jade and the Rebels.
He could hear Piett click his heels as he saluted. "Yes, my lord."
Vader watched the stars in silence, waiting for it to all be over. He had heard the report from General Veers, that Jade had returned fire to the 501st. Of course, they had fired on her first…but Palpatine did not need to know that.
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In the cockpit of the Millennium Falcon, relief turned to anxiety as an all too familiar shape began to cover the viewports. Han checked the sensor readings and, sure enough, they were heading straight towards the Executor.
Chewie roared defiantly. "These kids must be pretty damn important for the Empire to send Vader after them," Han mumbled to himself. He maneuvered the ship away from the SSD, but new sensor blips caught his attention before he could start calculating the jump to hyperspace.
He cursed and took off down the hallway towards the gunnery chairs, not even having to tell Chewie what was going on.
Mara was lying in the hold, using the Force to suppress the pain coursing through her body. Organa was dressing her wound, and Mara could have laughed at the irony of the situation.
Well, Tycho had warned her that it would take awhile to adjust to her new life. If he only knew.
An older, dark-haired man came hurrying into the hold. "Any of you good with a gun?"
Tycho, of course, was the first to volunteer. "Yes, sir."
The man—Mara assumed he was the captain of the Corellian freighter and, therefore, a Corellian himself—waved his hand. "There'll be none of that sir business on my ship, you all got that? I ain't in the military and you ain't in the Empire no more. Now let's go."
They disappeared up and down the ladder, heading toward the gunnery chairs. After a few moments, Mara could hear and feel the shudder of laser blasts coming dangerously close to the ship. She must have cringed, because Organa gave her a sympathetic look.
"Don't worry," she said. "The Falcon may look like a piece of junk, but she hasn't let me down yet." She glanced at the floor for a moment. "And neither has Captain Solo."
Mara nodded, not bothering to explain that she had been cringing at Vader's presence in the Force, not the threat of the TIE fighters. "This ship is called the Falcon?"
"The Millennium Falcon, yes. Han Solo is the captain, and Chewbacca is the first mate."
"Chewbacca?" Mara questioned, remembering the Wookiee she had seen on the ramp. "A Wookiee?"
"Yes. You don't have a problem with that, do you?" Organa's eyes narrowed threateningly, and at first Mara had no idea what she was talking about.
Then Mara realized—they had just defected from the Empire. The Empire that had enslaved Wookiees. She could have slapped herself for being so stupid and inviting suspicion.
"No, not at all! In fact, that's one of the reasons I left," she lied.
Organa seemed pleased. "Good. You have something in common with Captain Solo, then."
Now that was interesting…this Captain Solo was once a soldier in the Empire? Mara made a mental note to ask him about that later.
Much later.
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The TIEs surrounding them were some of the best pilots Luke had ever faced. It took all of his concentration and strength in the Force to avoid their fire. Somehow, there had been no casualties so far, although several of the Rogues had taken direct hits and were running low on shields. They were outnumbered, even with the Falcon's guns, and were in danger of being vaped.
Luke clicked on his comm, desperate for guidance. "Rogues, this is Leader. Anyone got any bright ideas?"
"Leader, Three. That's a negative. These guys don't let up!"
Luke nodded solemnly to himself. Of course they didn't; they were facing the Executor, the Imperial flagship. Vader's ship. Luke bit back a curse at the thought of the monster who had killed his father. If only he were out here in one of the fighters...then Luke could have another chance to avenge his father's death.
You coward!Luke thought violently, almost wishing that Vader could sense his thoughts through the Force.
Be mindful of your thoughts, Luke.
The voice jolted him. "Ben?" he gasped.
Trust the Force.
Luke grimaced, still unsure of what to do. Flying down the Death Star's trench had been easy compared to this; there had been a clear goal, and Luke knew exactly when it was time to take that shot.
This? This was mayhem, and Luke had no idea what to do.
As he avoided another TIE's laser blasts, he banked into a steep curve and caught another view of the SSD. This time, Luke couldn't suppress the anger welling up inside him…
Vader…
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On the bridge of the Executor, the Dark Lord of the Sith suddenly turned and bellowed at his admiral. "Call off the attack!"
Ozzel gaped at him, incredulous. "My lord?"
"Call off the attack, now! Do not make me give the order a third time!"
Without even offering an acknowledgment, Ozzel barked into the comm to recall the TIE fighters. He jumped when he looked up to see Vader standing menacingly at his side. "Is the tractor beam ready, admiral?"
"Yes, of course, my lord."
"Good. Use it. Bring them in. Bring them all in." Satisfied, Vader turned back to the viewports.
His son was out there.
Perhaps the Emperor's Hand could be far more useful than Vader had ever imagined.
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The TIEs stopped shooting, and Han had to pinch himself to keep from hollering. "Chewie! You got jump coordinates ready yet?" he yelled into the headset.
The Wookiee roared back an affirmative, and this time Han really did holler.
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Luke was incredulous when the TIEs stopped firing and began to fall back to the Executor. He still felt a sense of danger, and knew that they had to get out of there, now.
Han, apparently, also had the same idea. "We're sending you coordinates, kid! Get the hell out of there!"
He didn't need to be told twice. He clicked his comm in affirmation. "Rogues, this is Leader. Coordinates coming to your astromechs. Jump as soon as you receive them."
Within seconds, Luke was the only ship left surrounding the Executor.His hand reached out to push the hyperspace lever—
And he glanced over his shoulder at the huge SSD—and Darth Vader—one last time—
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Vader watched as the ships disappeared in front of him, rage boiling up inside of him but pushing it down, because the boy was still out there, and that was all that mattered…
For the briefest of moments, there was a tenuous connection in the Force as Vader reached out to his son. The boy was so powerful but so untrained. Vader could sense his strength in the Force in all its glorified potential. And he would be the one to show Luke that power, and then they would rule.
His son could take down the Emperor. Vader could feel it. He was so close to achieving his goal, and the vow he'd made on Mustafar…
Admiral Ozzel opened his mouth to speak behind him, announcing that the tractor beam had a lock on the remaining X-wing—
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The stars outside his cockpit turned to streaks as his X-wing jumped to hyperspace. Luke leaned back in his chair and breathed a much-needed sigh of relief.
He slept all the way back to the fleet, tossing and turning as the dreams assaulted him again—dreams of delivering justice to his father's murderer, and bringing peace to the galaxy.
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Mara sat restlessly on the floor of the Millennium Falcon,considering the abrupt turn her life had just taken. What would she do now? Should she tell Palpatine that she had succeeded in her mission? Should she ignore him completely, and forget about her life as the Emperor's Hand? Would he come after her? Was this even Palpatine's doing? It had been Vader's forces leading the attack...
No. She shook her head, remembering what Tycho had told her. Remembering what she had learned. Everything that happened in the Empire was mandated by the Emperor. This had been Palpatine's doing, as much as Vader's. After all, Vader would never have authorized an attempt on her life without express permission from his master.
She had been betrayed.
But could she stay with the Alliance? She didn't believe in the Rebellion any more than she did the Empire, so where did that leave her?
One thing she knew for certain: Vader had called off the attack. She didn't know why—perhaps it had something to do with Skywalker. Whatever the reason, she knew that Vader would never admit the truth about today's events to the Emperor. He would lie and say that the mission had been successful. And somehow Mara also knew that he would lie about the fate of the Emperor's Hand.
Perhaps Mara should do the same. She should lie, say that the mission had been successful, and that she wished to continue on to her next mission instead of returning to the Palace. Surely the Emperor would grant her permission to do so after such a staggering success.
That would be her plan, then. Palpatine was sure to contact her soon, and she'd prepare herself to lie to him. She didn't know if it was even possible, but she would try. Then, once she got to the Rebel base, she'd procure a ship and leave in the dead of night. Then she would head off into the galaxy on her own, and finally learn who Mara Jade truly was.