A/N: Thanks go to Lane_Winree for his assistance with the dogfighting in this chapter.

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CHAPTER 12

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"Mara?"

With a loud smack, Mara smashed her palm down on the red button, stopping her preferred treadmill in the gym. Turning to the door, she saw Tycho standing there. "Hey, what's up?" she said, breathing heavily.

"Sorry to interrupt. Commander Skywalker would like us all for a briefing in fifteen minutes."

Rivulets of sweat were threatening to fall down her face, so she quickly grabbed a towel to wipe her brow. "What about?" she asked.

"Rogue Squadron, I assume."

She gave Tycho a nod. "Sure. Let me shower first. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Showering, huh?"

She couldn't ignore the hint of teasing in Tycho's voice, and shot him a harsh glare. "Yes, that's what civilized people do after a workout."

"When we were stuck in debriefings all day long, you never bothered to shower after a workout."

"Yeah, well, maybe I thought that General Cracken and everyone else deserved to smell me."

"Or maybe you just want to get freshened up for Commander Skywalker?"

Mara's eyes narrowed. "You got something to say, Celchu?" she growled.

"Yes, I do. You might want to rethink your shower. Some men find women very attractive after a workout. You know, all sweaty and disheveled."

Her arm reared back to smack him, but Tycho was too fast and he caught her hand in his. "Very funny, Tycho." She pulled her arm away.

Tycho just smiled and left the room.

After her shower, Mara stood in the mirror cursing her friend; much to her chagrin, she had begun dabbing on perfume and styling her hair in a vain attempt to look decent. Letting out a snarl, she threw down her brush and violently pulled her wet hair into a ponytail. "Kriff it," she mumbled. Why should she care about what Skywalker thought of her appearance? Foregoing the clean clothes she had brought in her duffel, she pulled on her pair of old coveralls, threw her workout clothes in her bag, and headed to the briefing room, trying and failing to put Luke Skywalker's face out her mind.

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Mara was the last pilot to enter the briefing room. She took a seat next to Tycho and avoided Luke's gaze, which was probably a good thing as Luke could hardly keep from staring at her. She was wearing old, disheveled coveralls and looked like she had just finished a workout…but dear gods her hair was wet and Luke's mind immediately went places they should never go for fear of imminent death. Petrified that Mara had sensed his thoughts, he glanced down at his datapad and began to recite the alphabet backwards in his mind. When he got to aurek, he finally felt calm enough to address the group.

He was very careful not to look at Mara while he spoke.

Without preamble, he informed the four pilots exactly why he'd asked them to this briefing. For over six months, Rogue Flight had consisted of only six pilots, half of a regular squadron. Luke had never thought to expand his group until Commander Narra's suggestion, and now, with the arrival of the four TIE pilots and Narra's promise to find two additional pilots to fill out the roster, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to expand.

"Lieutenant Jade has already assured me of her ability to fly an X-wing. Would the rest of you happen to have similar experience?"

"Just the basics," Tycho said. "But we're all fast learners."

"I'm sure you are. I've already transmitted the relevant manuals to your datapads. I'd like to start working with you in the simulators as soon as possible."

Mara raised her hand, and Luke had no choice but to look at her again. "Yes, Lieutenant Jade?"

"Are we permitted to use the sims on our own time?"

"Of course. Feel free to practice whenever you like."

"Good." She smiled, and her eyes glinted as if in a challenge. Did she want to practice with him?

Well, he definitely wouldn't mind that.

She absently ran her fingers through her wet ponytail, and he once again found himself staring.

He blinked rapidly and blew out a breath.

"Um, yes. So I would like to schedule sim time at 1000 tomorrow morning. I look forward to seeing what you all can do."

Luke stayed behind the podium as the pilots filed out of the room. After the door hissed shut, he was aware of a lingering presence in the room, and was not at all surprised when he glanced up to find Mara leaning against the podium, glaring up at him expectantly.

"Um, hi," he stammered, mentally slapping himself for sounding so stupid.

"Hi," she responded. "So, what do you say?"

"What do I say about what?"

She rolled her eyes. "Come fly with me."

"Oh, um…I'm not so sure about that…"

"Why? Scared I'll beat you?"

Something in her tone of voice, and the way her green eyes flashed defiantly, brought out his very stubborn, very immature competitive streak. He may have been a squadron leader and aspiring Jedi Knight, but he was still a twenty year old boy, fresh off the farm.

He grinned. "Not at all. I just don't want to embarrass you during your first week in the Alliance. It might ruin your confidence."

"Ha!" she barked. "I would never have expected that the farm boy from Tatooine would have such a huge ego. But you are a flyboy, so I should have expected it."

He shrugged. "I'm just speaking the truth."

She grabbed his arm and began to pull him out of the room. "Let's go, then."

"What are you doing?"

"You think you can kick my ass in the sims? Prove it."

He knew he shouldn't be doing this...he wanted to make a good impression on her and beating her in the sims was not the way to do that...but her hand was so warm on his arm and there was no way he could say no. He grinned again. "You're on, Jade. You're gonna be sorry."

"I doubt it. The farm boy wouldn't dare be so rude to a lady."

"You forget, I am a Rogue."

She looked him up and down, a feral glint in her eyes. "I'll keep that in mind, commander."

Luke swallowed hard, wondering what the hell had gotten into him—and her!—but had absolutely no desire at all to stop this. They continued bantering—or flirting, if Luke was being honest with himself—all the way to the simulators. He was almost disappointed when the canopy lowered around him and he had to stop talking to her and actually concentrate on flying.

The runs went exactly as he expected: he vaped her five out of five times, but surprisingly, she managed to give him a run for his credits. She really was an excellent pilot…and Luke couldn't help but wonder if her ability in the Force was part of the reason for that. He could sense her mind working fast, but wasn't able to predict her movements as well as he could with other, non Force-sensitive pilots. He couldn't wait to observe her in the sims, when he didn't have to concentrating on beating her and he could focus solely on her sense in the Force.

He popped his canopy and waited for her to climb out of her sim. It was a few minutes before she finally emerged, a full-blown scowl on her face. Normally, Luke wouldn't dare tease a pilot he barely knew, but he couldn't help himself—her cheeks were flushed and her hair was disheveled and she had unzipped her coveralls while in the hot cockpit and her tank top did nothing to dissuade his suddenly overactive imagination. He opened his mouth to let out a quip—

But before he could say a word, she placed a harsh finger over his lips. "If you know what's best for you you'll keep your mouth shut, Commander Skywalker."

All thoughts of teasing flew out of his mind. Instead, he gently took her hand and met her questioning gaze. "On the contrary, Lieutenant Jade. I was going to say that you were very impressive."

She ripped her hand away. "You still beat me."

"Well. Perhaps we should spend more time in the sims. Or, if you need a break, we could have dinner…?"

She tilted her head, a blank expression on her face. "Actually, I think I should continue practicing. By myself."

"Oh. Sure."

"Is that a problem?"

Luke shifted uncomfortably. "No. Go have fun."

"I will." Without another word, she whirled around and returned to the simulator. Luke watched her gracefully climb in the cockpit, wondering at her abrupt change of demeanor. He finally turned to leave the room, trying and failing to get her face out of his mind.

He had just emerged from the hangar, lost in thought, when a strong hand suddenly grabbed him by the neck and began to drag him down the corridor. "What the—?" he exclaimed, but he stopped struggling when he realized that his handler was none other than Han. His pseudo older brother continued dragging him along without saying a word, refusing to answer Luke's questions about where they were going.

He finally got his answer when they entered a nearby hangar and saw the familiar shape of the Millennium Falcon in front of them. Luke entered the ship without any prodding and took a seat at the dejarik table in the main hold, waiting for Han to speak.

And he did, with the same bluntness that Luke had come to associate with all Corellians. "We need to talk about your interactions with women."

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Across the table, Luke took a deep breath and let his head fall back against the couch. Han could almost hear the kid counting to ten. "So," Han said with a twinkle in his eye. "Do you always have to save a woman's life before you fall for her?"

"Han—"

"Because if that's the case, women might start being afraid to come around you, and that kind of defeats the purpose, doesn't it?"

"It's not like that."

"Sure, junior, that's what you've been sayin' to everyone for the past few days, but you and I both know that it's a bunch of bantha shavit. And if you don't feel anything for Jade, you need to get your eyes examined, or consider the possibility that you may play for the other team."

Luke's eyes widened. "What?"

"I'm just sayin', you're twenty years old. If your hormones weren't raging for someone that hot, I'd worry about you."

"I don't see you lusting after her," Luke retorted.

"I've got other things on my mind," Han said simply. "But stop trying to change the subject. What's the deal, kid?"

The young pilot sighed. "Promise me you won't tell anyone, Han."

"Hey, who am I gonna tell? Chewie? Luckily for you no one would understand him."

Luke managed to chuckle at that. "Come on, Luke. What's goin' on?"

"You're right, Han. I do like her. A lot. And that's the problem."

"How is that a problem? She's gorgeous, and you can't be so naïve that you haven't noticed her staring at you, too."

"Maybe…but I don't think it's for the same reasons you think."

"Whatever, it doesn't matter. You got a pretty girl to notice you and that's half the battle. So, I ask again, what's the problem?"

"I'm a commander, Han. She's a lieutenant."

"So? There's no rules against that—are there?"

"If she joins Rogue Squadron, there will be. Wedge reminded me as soon as we got back to Home One that there's regulations against dating your direct subordinate."

"Why, so he could try to get into Jade's pants himself?"

"Han!" Luke admonished. "It's not like that. He's my XO. He was looking out for me."

"Alright, fine. But let me give you some advice—as your friend. If you let the Alliance military dictate your life, you deserve all the misery you get."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you, kid, risking your neck on a daily basis for these people, and you're gonna let them dictate who you can and can't ask out? What are you, an idiot?"

"It's military regulations, Han! I can't just disregard everything I don't like. I'll be kicked out."

"Oh, sure. You really think they'll kick their golden boy out of the military? If they'd do that, then they really deserve to lose this war."

"I'm not going to use their opinions about me to get what I want, Han. That's not the Jedi way."

"You ain't a Jedi, kid."

"Not yet—"

"And that's another thing." Han's eyes narrowed threateningly. "Once the Empire finds out who blew up the Death Star—and I have no idea how that hasn't happened yet—you'll be number one on every most wanted list across the galaxy. Do you really want to go around saying you're a Jedi, and give the Empire another reason to hunt you down?"

Luke shrugged. "They'd already be looking for me. What's the difference?"

"The difference is life or death, junior. The destroyer of the Death Star gets shot in the head for his crimes. A Jedi…well, I don't even want to think about what Vader would do to you."

The kid jumped up from the seat, banging his hands against the table in a rare show of anger. "I don't care! Let Vader try to find me! Just let him!"

"Whoa, Luke, what the hell has gotten into you?"

"Maybe I want Vader to find me, did you ever think of that? Maybe I want him to know I'm a Jedi! He deserves all he has coming to him and I want to be the one to kill him!"

"Whoa, Luke," Han repeated, having absolutely no idea how to deal with Luke when he was in such a rampage. The kid was manic, pacing around the hold, and Han was worried he was going to ignite his lightsaber and start slicing through the bulkheads. But after a few moments Luke suddenly stilled, taking deep breaths to calm himself. He slumped to the floor, as if the life had been drained out of him.

"Kid?" It was the only thing Han could think of to say.

"Vader killed my father, Han," Luke whispered.

Han was dumbfounded. "What?"

"You know that my father was a Jedi. Everyone believes that he was killed at the end of the Clone Wars, in the Jedi Purges, like all the others. But it's not true. Vader was Obi-Wan's apprentice, but he turned to the dark side and helped the Emperor hunt down and kill the surviving Jedi Knights. Vader betrayed and murdered my father. That's why they had to hide me."

"Damn. I'm sorry, Luke."

"All my life I was told that my father was a navigator on a spice freighter, but somehow I knew it wasn't true. I knew that there was something more…perhaps it was the Force speaking to me. When I met Ben, and he said I could use the Force, it was like something sparked deep inside of me. And when he told me that Vader killed my father, I just knew that one day I would have to face Vader and deliver justice."

Han studied his friend, aware of his deep and profound pain, but he couldn't let Luke continue with his delusions of grandeur. "Look, maybe you can use this Force, or whatever it is, but do you really think you can stand up to Darth Vader?"

"Yes." The kid didn't even hesitate.

"How can you be so sure?"

"I don't know. I just know that it's my destiny, to face Vader. That's why Ben found me. That's why I need to learn about the Force."

"Well…maybe you could wait a little while longer to do that. You know, until you're better with that." Han pointed at Luke's lightsaber. The kid smiled, and Han grinned in return, knowing that the mood had been lightened. After a few moments, Luke rose from the floor and returned to the couch.

"Sorry for getting angry," he said. "I shouldn't get angry."

"Eh, it happens."

Luke's lips thinned. "But it shouldn't."

Han didn't want to argue again, so he let the kid's devotion to the Jedi ways slide for the time being, and brought the conversation back to the original topic. "So," he said, leaning forward. "Jade."

Luke rolled his eyes. "There's nothing I can do about her, Han. I want her on my squadron. She can fly like hell, and we need pilots like her."

"I'm sure you need her, alright."

"Please Han, just cut it out, okay? I need to get my mind off her and this is not helping."

"Well, good luck with that, is all I gotta say. You're never gonna stop thinking about her."

"Why do you say that?"

"'Cause she's unattainable. You put a big red X over her face, so now she's completely nonthreatening and you're not afraid to actually talk to her and get to know her. Which makes you like her even more, which makes you think about her even more, and so on and so on. It's a vicious cycle."

"So you're saying that, because I put restrictions on whether or not I can be with her, I'm just making everything worse?"

"Precisely."

"Great. Just great. Can I go home now?"

"You are home, kid. That's the problem."

Blue eyes suddenly snapped up, gazing at Han with harsh intensity. "Why won't you join the Alliance?"

Han paused, rattled by the abrupt change of subject. "I got lots of reasons, kid."

"Name one."

"Alright. How about the little problem you just moaned about? I don't need the military running my life."

"Don't you want to fight for a higher cause?"

"I'm doing that fine right now."

"So what's the difference if you join or not? You know they could use you—"

"You know I ain't joining! I don't wanna argue with you, Luke, so just drop the subject."

Luke shook his head. "With all the free advice you just gave me about Mara, I can't believe you refuse to recognize what's going on between you and Leia."

"Oh, I recognize it fine, kid. She's a princess. I'm a smuggler. That's that."

"Oh please! Remember what you said to me right after we met her? 'You think a Princess and a guy like me?' You were saying it to goad me but I know there was some truth in it, Han."

"Look, I don't need you giving me advice about joining the Alliance, and I sure as hell don't need you giving me advice about women! Have you even slept with a girl before?"

"That's none of your business!"

"Thought so."

Luke stuck out his chin proudly. "As a matter of fact, I have. There were girls on Tatooine, you know."

"What about girls in the Alliance, huh?"

"I haven't got time for that."

"See, and this is what I don't get. You've got girls falling all over you. You're saying you don't got time for one night?"

"That's not what I want, Han."

"Sure, I know what you want. She's got red hair and green eyes and a figure like—"

"Maybe I do!" Luke screamed. "Maybe I do want her, alright! Is that so horrible, for me to be attracted to her? But I'm not going to let myself be led around by my hormones like some crazed animal. I'm supposed to be a leader in the Rebel Alliance, and I'm going to act like one.

"And you're my friend, Han, but I'm also Leia's friend, so I'm only going to say this once. I know Leia's the reason you stay, and don't even try to deny it. It's not because of me, or you would have left a long time ago. No, you stay because of Leia, because you care for her and it scares you to death, because for so long it's just been you and Chewie and you've never had to answer to anyone but each other. But now Leia's come along and you worry about disappointing her or hurting her or, even worse, about her hurting you. So you keep your distance and put on your tough smuggler act and pretend that you don't care about what she feels about you. But you do, Han, and so does she, and it's killing her because she knows that any day, she could wake up and find you gone, and she wouldn't be surprised one bit. She'd be disappointed and cry in my arms and I never want to have to deal with that. She's like my sister now and I don't want to see her get hurt any more than you do. But you arehurting her, because you refuse to stay for good.

"And I know what you're gonna say—that she snaps your head off and treats you like shavit, so how could she possibly like you? Well you know why she does that? Because then maybe she'll finally convince herself that she really doesn't care about you at all and when you finally do leave, she won't be crushed."

Without another word, Luke turned on his heel and left the hold. Han was aware that he was gaping at young friend, and he had no absolutely idea what to say or do. He couldn't even be angry at Luke…because Luke was right about everything.

But still, Han had ten more years of life experience, hard life experience that the kid, despite all his newfound responsibilities in the Alliance, could never begin to understand.

Han didn't want to leave the conversation the way it ended, knowing that any day could be their last, so he chased Luke down the ramp. "Hey, Luke!"

Luke turned around, his face set in determination.

"I know what I'm doing," Han said softly.

Luke nodded, acknowledging Han's overture to make amends, but unwilling to back down. "If you say so."

Han watched his friend walk across the hangar, his hands deep in the pockets of his flight suit, and wondered how such an unassuming farm boy always managed to get the best of him.

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The canopy hissed closed and Mara settled in to the couch, strapping herself in and adjusting the old, battered helmet on her head. She wore the traditional orange flight suit of the Rebel Alliance X-wing pilots, such a stark contrast to the pure black uniforms of the Empire's TIE fighter pilots. The biggest difference, of course, was the lack of a full mask. Mara had hated flying with that mask, not trusting the cybernetic substitutes for her own eyes.

The instrument panel came to life with a series of beeps and whirs, and Mara slowly and deliberately ran through her start up checklist. She'd already memorized the procedures but was determined not to make any stupid mistakes on this run. Luke Skywalker was in the control room, observing her, and she wanted to prove that she was Rogue Squadron material.

As she waited for instructions, Mara briefly wondered why she even cared what Commander Skywalker thought of her. She shouldn't be concerned with becoming a Rogue; she should only be concerned with procuring a ship and getting the hell out of the Rebel Alliance before they found out who she was or she was forced to make contact with the Emperor again. She'd lived her entire life according to his every command and defying him, even from such a vast distance, was proving to be harder than Mara could have ever imagined.

But for some reason she did want to prove herself. Part of it was purely professional pride, her perfectionist nature getting the best of her, and her training that had taught her never to go half measures. If she was going to pretend to audition for the Rogues, then she would do her best.

The other part of her, a part of her that she hadn't even known existed, wanted Skywalker to approve of her. To like her, even.

She thought back to the way he'd stared at her, a look of undeniable attraction flashing across his blue eyes, and a strange shiver settled in the pit of her stomach. Skywalker was attractive, there was no denying it...and she also couldn't deny that there was something special going on between them.

Another reason for her to get the hell out of the Alliance as soon as possible.

A voice from her headset forced her to clear her mind of her thoughts. "This is Rogue Leader. All wings report in."

Mara clicked on her comm. "Rogue Two standing by."

"Rogue Three standing by."

"Rogue Four standing by."

The first voice was undeniably Tycho's, but Mara could not determine the identities of Three and Four. Probably current Rogues, she assumed, assigned to give their opinions of how the new pilots flew in battle.

As soon as they reported in, the blank viewports filled with the swirling patterns of lightspeed. On her instrument panel, Mara could see the countdown winding down. She immediately placed her hand on the hyperdrive level, ready for reversion. The clock hit zero, and her hand pushed forward.

Mara found herself surrounded by chaos.

The four X-wings and the cargo ship they'd been escorting had come out of hyperspace in the middle of an ambush. An Imperial Star Destroyer loomed several klicks ahead, causing an odd spike of fear from the former Emperor's Hand. Never in her life had she thought that a Star Destroyer would cause her such unease. The ship had always represented a safe haven, a safe port. Now, it represented the enemy.

From the Star Destroyer swarmed a squadron of TIEs. The Rebels were outnumbered, a situation that would cause lesser pilots to panic, but they were Rogues—or aspiring Rogues, in Mara's and Tycho's cases—and had faced much worse odds in the past.

Besides, Mara tended to abide by the old Corellian saying—never tell me the odds.She had flown in the face of the odds her entire life, and the way thing were going, would probably never stop.

"Rogues, lock S-foils in attack position. Break off by wing pairs," Tycho instructed. "Two, you're my wing."

"Copy," Mara replied. Her fighter broke off on Tycho's starboard side as they held their position on the port side of the freighter. The other two X-wings settled in on the freighter's starboard side, while the dilapidated ship attempted to escape the nearby planet's gravity well and return to lightspeed. It was too slow, and would never make it before the TIEs arrived.

Tycho knew this, of course, and altered their plan accordingly. "Three and Four, stay with the freighter. Two, we're going in." He didn't wait for Mara's reply; he set off at full speed for the closest enemy wing pair. Mara followed him, checking her shields and weapons systems to make sure they were at her preferred settings.

Even though they were still relatively unfamiliar with flying the Rebel fighter, Mara and Tycho had a huge advantage in their experience flying TIE fighters. They both knew how the enemy ships handled and therefore how to best fight against them. It was something Mara had been taught during her training as the Emperor's Hand: when you learn to think like the enemy, you will be able to defeat them. It had taken her a few runs to get used to the differences between the Imperial and Rebel fighters, most importantly the X-wing's slower speed and learning how best to balance engines, laser batteries, and shields to optimal performance. TIEs didn't have shields, so she had never had to balance power between the three systems.

And of course, she had to adapt to flying with an astromech. A pilot's relationship with his or her astromech was much more involved than the interactions with the ship's computer. An astromech acted, sometimes, like a living, breathing person, a veritable co-pilot in a one-man fighter.

Satisfied with her systems for the time being, Mara turned her attention to the approaching TIEs. Tycho pulled out in front of her, ready to take the brunt of enemy fire. The TIEs opened fire first and Tycho easily avoided the lasers, sliding left then right, as Mara flew over his canopy. She set her lasers to dual-link fire and took out the two pursuing fighters. She grinned despite herself.

"Nice shooting, Two."

"Thanks, Leader." Mara pulled her fighter around tight to get back on Tycho's wing. As she turned she could see Three and Four dealing with two TIEs that had gotten past her and Tycho. She cursed silently and set her targeting brackets on another approaching TIE fighter. This time, Mara was the one to take the brunt of the attack, while Tycho swept below her starfighter and blew the TIE away with two quick laser blasts.

The enemy was playing safe to begin with, scoping out the opposing forces and gaining a sense of their strength before launching more fighters. It was a strategy that was typical of the Empire's more moderate leaders, who had no desire to risk the lives of more soldiers than necessary to accomplish a mission. Leaders like Vader, on the other hand, threw as much at the enemy as soon as possible, to overwhelm the opposing forces before they even had a chance to respond.

As expected, another squadron of TIEs soon came swarming out of the Star Destroyer. Mara grit her teeth but held her ground, waiting for Tycho's next order.

"Three and Four, form up on us. We'll distract the TIEs long enough for the freighter to break free and jump to hyperspace. On my mark, break by wing pairs and perform evasive maneuvers."

"Acknowledged." That was Three. The two X-wings quickly fell into position.

Just as the TIEs were about the reach them, Tycho barked his order. "Break!"

Mara kept her ship tight on Tycho's wing, forcing several of the TIEs to pull off in pursuit. She didn't even need to check her instruments to know that an enemy ship had gotten a target lock on her. She immediately jerked her stick to port, pulling into a tight loop and pulling her throttle back. The TIE, with its superior speed, overshot her X-wing and the TIE came in her sights. She sensed that the TIE fighter was in her brackets and her thumb hit the trigger on its own volition. Glancing at her sensors, she saw that Tycho had taken out two other TIEs, and Three and Four had vaped two more.

Ten down, fourteen to go.

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Luke leaned forward in his chair, watching the battle that raged on in the sims The four X-wings had just engaged an additional squadron of TIEs, leaving them highly outnumbered, but they weren't letting themselves get overwhelmed, which was a very good sign. The chances of success on this run were slim to none, but Luke knew it was still doable; after all, this simulation had been based on an ambush that Rogue Flight had been involved with just before the evacuation of Yavin IV.

Luke had been in the control room for the past several hours, focusing on a different pilot every run. Hobbie had been correct; Tycho was an excellent pilot, possibly on par with the top pilots in the Alliance. Rade and Zurel were also superior pilots, and both would be great assets to Rogue Squadron.

On this final run, Luke was observing Mara Jade.

From the chair next to him, Wedge leaned forward to adjust one of the viewing screens. The rest of the Rogues, with the exception of Wes and Zev in the sims, sat behind them. Through his enhanced perception in the Force, Luke could hear several awed murmurs about Tycho's prowess in the cockpit. Then, there was a whisper from Dack: "Damn, she's hot and she could kick my ass in the sims. She's my dream woman."

Luke suppressed a smile and re-focused all his attention on Mara. Her spirit in the Force shone like a beacon, calling out to him. He found it very easy to read her mind while flying.

Because it worked just like his.

He had first noticed the similarities when they flew against each other, but now, concentrating solely on Mara's mind and nothing else, Luke was thunderstruck to find that she flew exactly like him.

She wasn't as good a pilot as he, much as she wanted to believe she was, but proficiency wasn't the point. They had the same quickness of mind and ability to divide their attention between their instruments and intuition. Flying seemed as natural for her as it did for him, like she always knew where to go and what to do, even if the enemy had her boxed in.

And, even more than that, Mara was actively calling on the Force to help her fly. He could sense it. Luke recognized the familiar patterns immediately, the way her jinks and jukes would sometimes fly in the face of all logic. At crucial moments in the battle, Mara seemed to ignore all scientific data and act only on instinct.

Luke was sure that, had Mara been flying against living opponents, she would have used the Force to analyze their attack patterns and plan strategies against them, just as Luke did.

He had previously wondered how much he and Mara had in common, if their brief connection on the Dantooine battlefield had been the Force whispering in his ear. She was special—there was no denying it—and now he had proof that Mara Jade was aware of her power and knew how to use it. She had been taught how to use the Force, and Luke was going to find out where, and by whom. And maybe—just maybe—the Academy-trained, closed-off woman from Alderaan would realize that she had more in common with a Tatooine farm boy than she ever thought possible.

Several minutes later, the sim was over. Of the four X-wings, only Wes had been vaped. The TIEs had been held off long enough for the freighter to escape to hyperspace. Mara, Tycho, and Zev quickly followed.

Against all odds, they had done it.

Luke grinned.

He had found his new Rogues.