Chapter 7

It didn't take a genius to read Mica's mind. Or as good as read it.

Luke had instructed him to follow me, so he would, but he wouldn't like it. Not one bit. Neither did I for that matter. But I was used to people not liking me, and that didn't change that I was still in charge. It felt familiar, but there was a big difference between a Jedi kid and a pretentious Imperial officer. Or at least there should have been. In reality, when I looked at him I felt the same stare I'd garnered dozens of times before. An unspoken question of why I merited the respected and authority I'd been given. This time around I knew answering would be a much more subtle, difficult affair.

I smiled a little ruefully at the memories feeling my headspace. This time I couldn't just hold a lightsaber blade to his throat and demand he follows the Emperor's orders. This time I had to earn someone's trust, and it would be a great deal harder…

"Well," I said, wiping sweat from my forehead. "This is as good a place as any." I pulled back a few thick pieces of foliage, revealing where our jungle trek had taken us. I wasn't exactly native, but I knew Yavin well enough. This place had been one Corran used to take me when Luke deflected my training onto him. The sheer cliff overlooked a waterfall and an endless scratch of green canopy. It was so beautiful it almost made me forget my bad mood back then. Somehow I hoped it would have the same effect on Mica. But taking one look at him told me I'd have no such luck.

"Why are we here, Master Skywalker?" He asked, his tone even but tense enough to break.

"I used to come here when I needed to find peace. I thought it was a good place to start."

He nodded reluctantly as I gestured for him to sit across from me on a large stone. "Speaking of places to start, tell me about you." I knew it was a bold move, but I was tired of playing games. If he was going to snap, I wanted to hurry it along.

"With all due respect, I hardly think that's relevant to my training."

"We're not in the old order, Mica. It's important now."

His face contoured into a sharp grimace no amount of Jedi calm could hide. "Just because it was destroyed doesn't mean it wasn't correct."

I folded my arms, taking him in without losing my calm. He was a funny picture, someone in love with rigidity, and yet overflowing with the very emotions the old order forbid.

"You meant to say, the order I destroyed, didn't you?"

"Of course not," he lied. "You're a Jedi."

"Drop the act," I whispered frankly. "I'm not like any Jedi you've read about in the history docs. And that both confuses and irritates you, doesn't it?" I said sensing his emotions effortlessly.

He stared at me with those icy-striped eyes without even a hint of a waver. "You were Imperial…" he finally breathed. "The Emperor's Hand. I studied what little was known about you, but the gaps in the mystery only take my mind to darker and darker places. No one really knew who you were or what you did." He paused, measuring how much footing was left to his audacity. Boldly, he pressed on. "Isn't it reasonable to be suspicious of that? Now you're here, next to the most powerful Jedi Master, founder of the New Order, isn't that…unsettling?"

I felt a quiver of fear race through him. His anger gave him boldness, but now that he'd let it get the better of his mouth he was genuinely afraid of me. In years past, I would have revealed in that fear. Happy this little punk knew who was in charge. But now…it hurt me more than I expected.

I sighed, closing my eyes. "You don't trust easily, do you Mica?"

"The Empire never deserved trust," he replied coolly.

"You're right about that…" I mumbled as I turned back to the view. Far in the distance birds were soaring over the cover of trees. The roar of the waterfall was just far enough away not to steal our whispers. "They take without giving anything back."

I turned to look at him directly. "They take children when they're too young to know the difference between right and wrong. They make you a part of them. So indistinguishable that to hate them would be to hate yourself. And I have," I whispered. "For years I have…"

I saw his fists clench and then relax, some war all this own raging in his quiet, unspoken emotions. "Is that your story?"

"The short of it… The long of it involves mostly things I'm trying to forget."

"And…" he asked softly, his face placid with numb anger. "Have you killed?"

I stared at him silently. Past those eyes so filled with resolution and dignity were the eyes of a little boy. They could have just as well been Ben's eyes, asking in so many hidden words why his mother was killed. Why her? Why did it have to happen…?

"I have," I breathed. "For all the wrong reasons. But not your mom…" I finally said. "I'd left the Empire long before Thrawn rose to power. I fought to stop him. You know that, right? You read that too?"

He closed his eyes. "Yes… But that doesn't mean I'm ready to trust you, Master Skywalker."

"Mara…" I corrected him. "I haven't quite grown into everything Skywalker means. Not yet anyway…" I could hear all the ways that Luke would disagree, but mostly Mica looked shocked. Confused by my calm modesty. And in a way…so was I.

"Mara," he repeated softly. For a few long moments, he just studied me, as if trying to probe the depths of his own suspicion and weigh it against the flawed human being he saw sitting in front of him.

I'd never admit it, but I felt like I'd lost a dual. The cuts and burns were hidden, but I still felt them just as painfully. In the back of my mind, I thought about the real secret, the truth of who Vader's son really was. But I'd never tell him, never undermine the respect he had for Luke. Because no one should be held accountable for the sins of their father. Last of all, someone as good as Luke…

I felt those things so earnestly that some evidence of it escaped me and found it's way to the Force. A sense someone as talented as Mica could feel readily. No words, no hidden secrets, just a sense of great care.

Mica's eyes softened suddenly, his confusion greater, but his anger curbed. "You love him, don't you?"

I titled my head back, a gentle smile framing my face. "Come on, kid, that's a little personal, don't you think?"

A ghost of a smile flickered to his lips before vanishing, replaced by his sense of rigid duty. "Thank you for allowing me to speak freely, Master. What shall we do next?"

I stood, keeping my tone as casual and irreverent as possible. "Eat lunch hopefully, I'm starving. How about you?"

He opened his mouth to protest he had any physical needs at all, but his stomach beat him to the punch and growled right on queue.

I grinned at him. "Let's start back, it's a long walk."

It was a long walk, and it gave me a lot of time to think. More time than I wanted actually. All in all, I thought I'd have a lot to report to Luke. I hoped I'd helped Mica somehow. And mostly…I just needed to talk. Something Luke noticed as soon as I approached him in the temple courtyard.

Wordlessly, he rose, Ben held in his arms, and led us away to a quiet spot to eat lunch. The trill of birds mingled with the humid air, and suddenly, it felt harder to breathe. All the feelings of being home evaporated with one strained breath.

"Was Mica receptive to your advice?" Luke asked simply, cautiously.

"If you're asking if he listened as any good padawan should, he did. If I think it did any good, I have no clue." Sitting on the bench I pressed my back against the stone wall behind me. In the shade, it almost felt cool. Luke sat beside me, slowly reaching to take one of my hands.

"I'm sorry it was so difficult, maybe I shouldn't have asked you to talk to him?" he thought aloud.

"No, you were right…" I breathed. "That kid would be consumed by his hate if he didn't learn to face it. If anything, I think he'd be downright dangerous left as is."

Luke seemed to consider my words thoughtfully. The truth was, I knew about hate. Knew it inside and out. Knew how easily it could become almost a comfort given enough time.

"Then tell me about you…" he said softly, clutching my hand tighter.

I knew he could feel the truth of my emotions already. The mix of shame and grief that I masked in my own sort of anger. "Me…?" I whispered as I brushed a stray lock of red hair from Ben's eyes. Pulling my hand back I looked at Luke frankly.

"He asked me if I'd killed."

"That's not a fair question, Mara," he said a bit upset.

"Maybe so, but it's also a good question. With an obvious answer. The war might be over but the open wounds are slow to heal. It's not just Mica… It's everyone who ever lost someone to the Empire." I crossed my arms. "When they see me, they might as well be looking into Vader himself."

Maybe I shouldn't have said it, I hadn't meant to hurt him. But he took the pain in stride. "I've lost people I love to the Empire. Why don't I see you that way?"

I reached out to touch his face softly. "Because you can see me. You're one of the few that can, Skywalker…"

I saw the war rage on his face, felt it through our bond. He wanted to change the hearts and minds of billions just to make them see me for the person I was. He wanted to do it, no matter how frustratingly impossible and futile he knew it was.

Finally, he accepted his powerlessness with a sigh. "Some of them will see in time, we just have to be patient with them."

"I know, Luke, I've already accepted that. Sure, it doesn't make the bad days go away. The days when it almost gets the better of me. But I'm learning to accept it. That's what it means to be a Jedi, right…?"

If he were just my teacher, I expected he would have simply agreed. A nod for my wisdom. But as it was, he was so much more than that. Pulling me into his arms he leaned his chin against the top of my head. Ben was nestled between us, his big blue eyes looking out curiously.

"You're not just a Jedi…" he whispered into my hair. "You're a woman with vulnerabilities and feelings…"

I felt a slight smile curve to my lips. "Vulnerabilities? Let's not get carried away, Farmboy… Besides," I went on. "As much as I hate to admit it, you've already given the greatest vote of confidence you possibly could."

"Marrying you wasn't a vote of confidence, Mara…" he whispered, holding me tighter. "It was a privilege I'll never take for granted…"

I scoffed, blinking the tears back from my eyes, but I didn't say a word. No, I just listened to his

emotions, tracing every outline of truth I felt within them.

He meant it…

Somehow, he meant it.