CHAPTER 14
The Falcon was quiet as Han made his way through the ship's corridors. It was another night, another mission. He thought back to that day at Chalmun's Cantina and how his life had made a radical right turn in such a short amount of time. Right after Yavin, there were many times that Han wished he'd never ventured into that cantina. Instead of a much-needed drink, he'd instead gotten himself into a world of trouble.
But now, standing outside the door of Leia's makeshift quarters, his feelings were exactly the opposite. No matter what happened in the future, he was glad he'd agreed to fly Luke and Old Man Kenobi to Alderaan. Leia might make him want to tear his hair out from time to time—okay, most of the time—but Luke was right. Han cared. And as much as he once wanted to leave and go back to his simple life with Chewie, he couldn't. Not anymore.
But he also couldn't join the Alliance, and Leia deserved to know why. So he'd decided to tell her.
It was the logical thing to do, so then why was he so petrified? She was almost two heads shorter than him and ten years younger, yet he was finding her more intimidating than Darth Vader on an off day.
Perhaps that was what intrigued him about her so much.
Taking a deep breath, Han knocked on the door. After a moment, he heard Leia's muffled voice tell him to enter.
She sat on her bunk facing away from the door, clutching something in her hand. She didn't turn around when he entered, so he let the door shut behind him and slowly approached her. "Princess?" he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"Do you need something, Captain?" she asked, her voice still muffled. Han realized that she sounded choked up, like she had been crying. Well, that just would not do.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Han asked, taking a seat next to her on the bunk. He was so concerned about her that he didn't even stop to consider that Leia might punch him for being so presumptuous.
Thankfully, she didn't. "Nothing," she replied shortly. "I just want to be alone right now."
"Yeah, that's not gonna happen, Princess. Come on, tell me what's wrong."
Leia was quiet for several seconds, then she sighed in resignation and finally turned around to face him. Her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks were tear stained. Han had to physically restrain himself from reaching out and embracing her.
"Today was my father's birthday," she whispered.
"Oh." Han had no idea what to say. He'd come here to reassure Leia that he wasn't going to up and leave any time soon, but this was another matter entirely. She had never spoken to him about Alderaan, and Han had never thought to bring up the subject. He knew that it was a topic she'd prefer to avoid, and he was more than familiar with such a mindset.
But instead of a heartfelt reassurance that everything would be alright, all he could offer was an unenthusiastic "oh." And Chewie wondered why Han believed he wasn't good enough for Leia.
She took a deep breath. "I think about him every day, of course, but today was the worst I've felt in a long time. I woke up, remembering all the good times we had, reminiscing about all the things he taught me, and then I just couldn't stop thinking about Alderaan. I kept seeing it blow up in front of my eyes, and imagining what he must have been doing, what he must have felt. He had to have known what was going to happen…the minute the Death Star entered the system, he had to have known." Leia gripped the object in her hand tighter. "You know, I heard reports that he tried to order an evacuation, but there just wasn't enough time. His aides told him to leave and he refused. He would never abandon his people to die alone."
"I'm sorry, Leia."
"This is us when I was little," Leia said, holding out the object in her hand—an old-fashioned photograph of her and her father. In it, Leia looked to be about ten years old. Han would have been at the academy then.
"He was such a wonderful father. Especially after my mother died, he worked so hard to protect me from the horrors of the galaxy, but he never sheltered me. I wanted to be a senator and he supported me fully. Looking back, I realize how hard that had to be for him, knowing that I'd eventually want to join him in the Rebellion and effectively sentence myself to death, but he didn't stop me from pursuing my dreams. He was the best father I could have asked for."
"I'm sure he was very proud of you."
"I hope so. He always treated me like I was his own."
"What do you mean?"
Leia looked at him sharply and placed her hand over her mouth. "Oh, I shouldn't have said that…"
Han gave her one of his trademark grins. "Well, the nexu's out of the bag now, so you might as well tell me."
Leia smiled softly, then glanced down at the photograph, biting her lip. "I was adopted, Han. Please don't say anything. Very few people know, and if it got out—"
"Don't worry about it, Princess. Your secret is safe with me."
"...Thank you."
"So who else knows?"
"Just Winter, Mon Mothma, and Luke."
Han felt that familiar surge of jealousy shoot through him. "Oh sure. Luke."
She glared at him, her mood immediately shifted. "Please, do not do this right now."
He held out his hands. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. So…how long has he known?"
She sighed heavily, but answered anyway. "Since we first met. When I learned he was also adopted, I confided in him. I was still reeling from Alderaan and needed someone to talk to. That's all." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Not that I have to defend my actions to you."
"No, you're right." Han nodded. Leia was absolutely right. Luke was her friend, and she had every right to confide in him. Besides, just days ago he'd confronted Luke about the kid's infatuation with Mara Jade. Han really needed to drop the jealousy act.
It was just hard not to be jealous when he was around Leia.
"So, now you know my big secret," Leia said. "Her Royal Highnessness isn't really a princess at all."
"Oh, I wouldn't say that. You'll always be a princess to me."
Leia rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. "Thank you."
"Besides, you're in good company, being orphaned and all."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't really remember my family. I was a street kid, you see."
"Oh…I never knew that, Han. I'm very sorry to hear that."
He shrugged. "Nothing to be sorry for. It was a long time ago."
"What happened?"
He shrugged again. "I was living on the street, got caught up in a smuggler's gang, finally got out on my own, went into the academy, was proclaimed one of the next stars of the Empire, got promptly kicked out, then turned to smuggling."
"If you did so well at the academy, why didn't you join the Alliance?"
"Like I already told Luke, there wasn't any place to go back then. Then I got caught up in smuggling, and then that became my life."
"But now you're here."
Han shook his head incredulously. "You sure you and Luke aren't the same person? He said the exact same thing."
"Well, he's smart."
Han stared her straight in the eye. "He sure is."
It was quiet for a long moment. Leia glanced back down at the photograph, shifting uncomfortably on the bunk. Slowly, Han reached out and took the piece of flimsi from her hand, placing it next to him on the bunk. His hand reached out to hers and to his surprise, she did not pull away.
Her hand was small and warm and fit in his perfectly.
"I came here tonight for a reason, Leia," he whispered. "I just wanted to let you know…that I got no plans to leave any time soon."
Still avoiding his gaze, she ran her free hand over her worn jumpsuit. "Then why do you refuse to join us?"
"I can't, Leia. I'm sorry, but I can't join another military. It's just not who I am."
"But you're already here. I don't see why it makes a difference."
"I just can't, Leia."
Slowly, she nodded. Her expression was disappointed but resigned. "I can understand why you want to be in control of your own destiny. I just hope that someday you'll change your mind, and realize that you can do that even in the Alliance."
He kept staring at her even though she still refused to meet his gaze. "Someday, maybe I will."
After several long seconds, he picked up the photograph and placed it back in her hand. "You'll be alright?" he asked, turning her cheek around to face him.
She blinked away sudden tears and stuck out her chin proudly. Han was suddenly struck by just how much she resembled Luke in that moment. "I always am," she said.
"Good." Then, because he couldn't help himself, he leaned forward and kissed Leia gently on the cheek. Before she could slap him, he rose from the bed and exited her quarters.
She might not have made any heartfelt declarations of love or even returned his kiss, but that didn't matter. For now, her desire for him to stay was enough. After all, she was young, and he had nothing but time.
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After several long hours in hyperspace, the Millennium Falcon and Rogue Squadron arrived at the Rebel base. The mission had proceeded as smooth as shimmersilk, and they landed on the ground with absolutely no problem. Mara still had no idea where exactly she was, but had no doubts that the secret would be revealed upon their arrival.
Sure enough, there was a small group waiting for them in the hangar—a middle-aged woman, a Sullustan, and a Mon Calamari. Very different leadership from what Mara had been accustomed to in the Empire.
The Rogues clamored out of their X-wings wearing large smiles. Mara, Tycho, Rade, and Zurel shied away from the crowd, uncertain as to what was going on and how they should react. After a few moments Luke gestured them forward, wearing an encouraging smile. Mara stepped forward…
And stopped short, eyes widening in shock.
The woman standing in front of her was Mon Mothma, the Commander in Chief of the Rebel Alliance. She was Number One on every most wanted list in the Empire. Every old, long ingrained instinct in Mara's mind screamed out at her to grab a blaster and shoot a hole in Mothma's chest.
And her heart screamed out in protest.
So Mara's hand stayed in place at her side, she took steadying breaths, and strode forward like a prospective member of Rogue Squadron.
The regal woman smiled. "Welcome. Allow me to introduce myself; I am Mon Mothma, Commander in Chief of the Rebel Alliance. With me are General Bryl, Director of Starfighter Command," she gestured at the Sullustan, "and Admiral Ackbar, Director of Fleet Command. Welcome to Thila base."
Mara glanced at Tycho, confused. He was sporting the biggest grin she'd ever seen on his face.
And then she got it.
Mothma, Bryl, and Ackbar were all members of Alliance High Command. So were Rieekan and Cracken, back at Home One. They'd been told that they would be relocated to one of the Rebel bases, but that hadn't been entirely accurate.
In fact, they'd been taken to theRebel base.
Of course! Rogue Squadron was always attached to Alliance Command. Why wouldn't they be at the main Rebel base?
Mara had no idea why this revelation startled her so much. Nothing in her mandate had changed. She still intended to take leave of the Alliance as soon as possible.
Her breath caught in her throat again. She was at the main Rebel base. The security had to be immense. Mara would never be able to leave.
Unless…unless she deserted while in the middle of a mission, taking her X-wing and dumping it somewhere.
Mara blinked rapidly, realizing that Mothma was still talking and that she was staring like an idiot. She forced herself to pay attention.
"Commander Skywalker has your room assignments, and the rest of Rogue Squadron can show you around the base." She gave them a warm, genuine smile. "And thank you for your dedication to the Rebel Alliance." With that, she stepped forward and shook each of the defectors' hands. Mara could hardly look the woman in the eye.
After the three Alliance Command members left the hangar, Luke approached the group, wearing a hopeful but slightly nervous expression. "Well," he said, "I'm sure you figured out that we weren't entirely honest about our intended destination. I apologize—it was Cracken's orders. You understand." They all shared a laugh at the expense of the well meaning but often frustrating Intelligence director. "Anyway. Here are your room assignments." Luke handed out several pieces of flimsi. "Rade and Zurel, you'll be rooming together. Tycho, you'll be bunking with Wedge. He's been without a roommate for several months and I think the situation has been going to his head." The Alderaanian and the Corellian shared a glance, then nodded to each other. Mara smiled to herself, hoping dearly that Tycho would find in Wedge some much needed friendship.
She glanced down at her piece of flimsi. There was a room number on it, but no name of a roommate. She looked up at Luke with a questioning glance. "As you can see, Mara, you'll be rooming by yourself. I guess there just aren't enough women in the military yet." He shrugged sheepishly.
"No problem, I don't mind." She smiled. "At least I won't have to deal with anyone snoring."
"Hey Jade!" Mara turned around and saw the other Rogues, Wes Janson in the lead, approaching the smaller group. "If you think you'll be lonely, you can always share a room with Hobbie and me. We'll keep you nice and warm at night."
Mara suppressed a smirk. She'd learned all about Wes's antics since her arrival at the Alliance, and she decided that it was time to give him a taste of his own medicine. She slowly walked towards Wes and, seeing her coming towards him, he backed up suddenly with a startled expression on his face. She raised an eyebrow cheekily. "What's the matter, Janson?"
He kept backing up, and Mara kept on advancing. "Um, nothing—" he stuttered.
"As a matter of fact, I would love to bunk with you and Hobbie. In fact, maybe the three of us can engage in some fun nocturnal activities, together. If you catch my drift."
Wes's eyebrows nearly shot into his hair. Behind her, Mara could hear snickering and she sensed Luke's immense amusement shining through the Force.
Wes opened his mouth several times, but no words came out. Mara moved closer to him and placed a finger on his chest. "What's the matter, lieutenant? Gizka got your tongue?"
Unable to take anymore, Wes swallowed hard and bolted from the hangar. Mara turned around and grinned wickedly. "Now," she said. "Would anyone else like to make any 'fun' suggestions?"
The rest of the Rogues, minus Luke and Tycho, shook their heads vigorously. Luke was trying very hard not to laugh and Tycho was shaking his head in amusement at his surrogate younger sister.
Mara nodded curtly. "Good." She spun on her heel and made to leave the hangar, but stopped before she passed through the doors. She turned around slowly. "Commander Skywalker?"
Luke immediately stopped chuckling. "Yes?" he called.
"Would you be so kind as show me to my room?"
Luke bit his lip and nodded. "It would be my pleasure." He ignored the stares of the other Rogues as he walked towards her. He guided her to her new quarters in silence. When they arrived, he pointed down the hallway. "If you need anything, I'm right down the hall."
"Thank you, that's very convenient," she replied. "So, tell me honestly—how long will it be until I get put in a double room?"
"It's hard to tell, so you might as well enjoy the privacy for the time being."
Mara stepped closer to Luke and placed a hand on her hip. "Do you snore?"
"...What?"
"Do you snore?"
"Um, no—why?"
"Because if I get stuck with a snoring roommate, I might have to come invade your quarters so that I can get some sleep."
"Oh. Um." Luke ran his fingers through his hair and avoided her gaze. "Sure, I guess that would be fine..."
"Skywalker! It was a joke!"
He breathed a sigh of relief, although Mara sensed that he was also a little bit disappointed. "Oh, right," he said. "Of course. A joke."
"You should have seen the look on your face!" Mara laughed. "It was priceless."
"Yeah." He shifted uncomfortably. "Anyway. If you need anything, just let me know."
"Thanks, I will."
He nodded at her, then she entered her quarters and began putting away her things. After everything was settled it finally hit her, and she sank down on her bunk and placed her head in her hands.
She'd asked Luke to escort her to her quarters because she wanted to be with him. And she hadn't been putting on an air when she asked him if she would be soon stuck with a roommate. It was a serious consideration of what would happen if she stayed in the Alliance.
It was unavoidable—she was starting to think of herself as a Rebel.
And now her head was starting to pound with that old, familiar presence, one that she would never be able to ignore.
At that moment, Mara seriously considered using her old, Imperial-issued holdout blaster to permanently put herself out of her misery.
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There wasn't much to say while waiting outside the briefing room. The four defectors had performed exemplary and there wasn't anything left preventing Commander Skywalker from declaring them full members of the Rogue Squadron.
So why was Tycho pacing around the hallway, unable to still for a moment out of sheer anticipation? There was absolutely no reason for him to feel worried, but he was. This was the next step on his path to redemption. He would make up for joining the Empire in the first place, and for staying even though he knew deep down that he didn't belong.
Maybe someday he be able to forgive himself and then his family, wherever they were, could forgive him, too.
For now, though, he just wanted to find out if he'd made the squadron. He was starting to believe that Commander Skywalker was purposefully delaying the announcement in order to torture them, but that seemed more like something that Janson or Ralter would do.
After fifteen minutes had elapsed, Tycho began to hear a soft beeping noise coming from the door to the briefing room. He ignored it at first, but it persisted and grew louder until none of them could ignore it any longer. The squadron was inside the briefing room, so what could the beeping mean? Was it a signal for them to go inside? Was it something more sinister?
Just as Tycho was about to broach the subject, Mara spoke up. "I think they want us to go inside."
"But why wouldn't they just tell us that? This is odd," Rade asked.
"Well, it is Rogue Squadron," Tycho pointed out. "I think odd is their standard operating procedure."
"Why are we sitting out here, then?" Zurel said, striding forward towards the door.
Just as he reached out his hand to hit the activation panel, Mara cried out, "Wait, stop!"
It was too late. The door opened…
And Zurel got a bucketful of red condiment sprayed all over his face.
Tycho's hand shot to his mouth as he tried hard not to laugh. Mara stood next to him, shaking with her stifled giggles. Rade wasn't even attempting to hide his amusement.
Very slowly, Zurel brought his shirt to his face and wiped his eyes. Then, Tycho noticed Janson and Ralter standing in the doorway, rolling with laughter.
Commander Skywalker pushed them aside, wearing a resigned expression. "I warned them not to do it, but it's impossible to rein these two in. It's just something you'll have to get used to as members of Rogue Squadron."
It was not the notice that Tycho would have expected while in the Empire, but from the Rogues, it was perfect. Absolutely perfect.
Tycho shook Rade's and Zurel's hands and gave Mara an affectionate hug, picking her up a bit and twirling her around. "We made it, Mara. We made it!" he whispered.
Mara nodded, an odd combination of happiness and dread playing deep inside her bright green eyes. "We did. We're Rogues."
In the middle of the celebration, Wedge drew up beside them. "As your new XO, it is my pleasure to invite you all to a gathering in your honor. Follow me."
They did as they were told, finally entering the pilot's lounge, which had been turned into a party room, complete with tables for food and drink and an area for dancing. Pilots from several other squadrons, along with Han Solo, Princess Leia, and other familiar members of the Rebellion, were present.
The last to enter the lounge, Commander Skywalker closed the door behind them and cleared his throat loudly. "Inside this room, we are no décor. Let the festivities begin."
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Mara didn't know how to feel during the celebration. Part of her was proud that she made the squadron. Part of her was happy at the prospect of getting to know Luke better. Part of her was petrified that she would now find it incredibly difficult to leave. Part of her feared that she wouldn't.
The previous night, she had contacted Palpatine briefly, giving a short and completely fabricated status report. She could tell that he had been unsatisfied with her uncharacteristic shortness, but it was all she could muster at the time. It was becoming harder and harder to resist his contact, and yet all she wanted was to ignore him.
She knew that she had to away from the Alliance as quickly as possible. If she couldn't resist the Emperor, she'd end up leading him straight to Thila base. She couldn't do that to them, not after everything she'd already done in her life. She'd almost gotten Tycho and the others killed on Dantooine. She couldn't bear the thought of unwittingly contributing to the deaths of her newfound friends.
Especially Luke Skywalker, the endearing, compelling pilot who she could not stop thinking about.
The celebration was entering its second rowdy hour when Mara's head began to ache. It was more persistent than ever, and she knew that Palpatine was suspicious. She needed to placate his worries, and assure him that she was deeply involved in her next mission. She had to get out of there and allow him to contact her.
Why now? Why immediately after I got accepted into Rogue Squadron? It's like he knows.
Mara pushed aside all her thoughts, doubts, and concerns, intent on what she was called to do. She headed towards the doorway in a rush, not stopping to look or talk to anyone.
But before Mara could cross through the door, a warm hand settled on her shoulder. She jumped and nearly reached back to throw the offender onto the floor, but stopped herself once she recognized the shining presence of Luke Skywalker. He gave her that disarming smile she had grown to know so well in only a few days. "Leaving already?"
Mara swallowed hard, resisting the urge to rub her head and soothe the oppressive ache that had become characteristic of the Emperor's contact. "I just have to use the fresher," she lied, wanting to get out as soon as possible.
"Okay," Luke said, "but don't be too long. I want to have a dance with the guest of honor before the rest of the Rogues sweep in and claim their turns."
She forced herself to smile. "Sure, that sounds great." Then, because she couldn't handle it anymore, she turned away while squeezing her eyes shut.
She stepped into the hallway…and suddenly it hit her.
She didn't want to make contact with the Emperor. She didn't want him invading her mind anymore. She didn't want to go off into the galaxy on her own.
She wanted to stay exactly where she was. She wanted to be a Rebel.
She wanted to be a Rogue.
So that's what she would be.
Mara opened her eyes and, just like that, the connection between her and Palpatine was broken.
The relief was immediate, and for the first time in her life…she felt free.
She suppressed a smile as she imagined what the Emperor must be thinking at that moment, but she couldn't bring herself to care that much. Palpatine was her old life.
Her new life was inside that lounge.
The din of noise and laughter was almost overwhelming as she walked back inside, and she could no longer suppress the grin spreading slowly across her face. Striding purposefully towards Skywalker, she took a deep breath and tapped him on the shoulder. He faced her and gave her another disarming smile. "Back already?" he asked.
Mara nodded. "Yeah. I decided I didn't have to go after all."
He tilted his head curiously, then held out his hand. "May I have this dance?"
She offered her own. "It would be my pleasure."
Grasping her hand tightly, Luke led her onto the makeshift dance floor. Bringing her close to him, he gently placed his free hand on her waist. After a few tentative moments, she brought hers to his shoulder…
And she was exactly where she belonged.
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Deep inside the Imperial Palace, Emperor Palpatine sat atop his throne, staring in silence at the skyline of Imperial Center, and contemplating this latest unexpected development.
His precious Hand—the first girl he had considered for the experimental position—had gone wayward. He once thought that to be impossible. He had trained the girl from childhood, and she was loyal to the Empire as anyone else in Palpatine's retinue. She had killed terrorists, exposed traitors, and dedicated her life to fulfilling the Emperor's every last command.
And she had simply cut him off, just like that, their deeply tuned connection snapped.
He should have been furious. He should have left Imperial Center immediately, to hunt her down and teach her a lesson that she would never forget. She was his.
But instead Palpatine sat calmly, listening to the Force bristle around him, surprisingly accepting of this unfortunate turn of events.
Because, ultimately, Mara's betrayal was of little consequence.
Let her have her dalliance. She would become entrenched in the Rebellion, become one of them, and then, when the time was right, Palpatine would order the girl to be brought back to her home. He would remind her where she truly belonged, and she would once again accept her place as the Emperor's Hand.
And, in the end, Palpatine was almost pleased that his Hand had gone rogue. For he knew that, wherever he found Mara Jade, he would also find the Son of Skywalker.
The true threat to the Emperor's reign.