There was an amazing complexity within the minds of sentient beings, but only recently had she had it really brought home to her.
She'd known Luke Skywalker for ten years, and thought she really knew him--but apparently not as well as she'd thought. The surface, yes, but she hadn't thought to look deeper.
She hadn't known how much more there was than what was on the outside, until Nirauan, and their melding. And while she thought there was so much to him that no one, not even he, could discover it all, she would enjoy having a lifetime learning.
--
He meditated, and tried to release his frustration into the Force.
Was it really so much to ask of her? He wasn't asking for her commitment to the Jedi, though he wouldn't refuse should she offer it. Though he knew she wouldn't; she continually made it abundantly clear.
But it was just training, just helping her sharpen old skills and gain new ones, which she could use in her job if she wanted. And he thought it would be good for her, to finish it, to know that she would always have the Force.
Why did she always say no?
--
I feel so stupid.
I'll kill you, I told him. You'll meet your death at my hands, and I'll smile as I watch your life slip away. As my life once slipped away.
Now to find myself needing him alive and cooperative--how could I, the woman who would kill him, ask this of him? Why should he agree? He would be well within his rights to refuse participating in such a mad scheme, and I don't think I could blame him for it.
But I must ask. I got Karrde into this, and I'm going to get him out.
--
He felt her always in his mind, her presence suffused with light and love. This bond between them, forged of years of volatile friendship and minutes of frantic battle, seemed such a part of him that he wondered he hadn't always had it.
She was inside him, strands of her woven together with strands of him, merged within the Force. They truly were stronger together than apart. He'd thought it a cliché before, but now it seemed such truth.
She was his, and it seemed as if she always had been. But he was hers too, and always would be.
--
She watched him with his sister's children, his friends' children, even the students at the academy. He was such a natural with them, encouraging without condescension, firm without aggressiveness. She thought he'd be a perfect father.
She bit her lip, watching him now, patiently showing a young student how to hold a lightsaber. She'd been out there, too, teaching with him, until she'd gotten too dizzy to stay on her feet.
She wanted children, but she was so sick, and didn't know what caused her illness, didn't know what it might do to an unborn child...
But still she wished.
--
People don't understand us. They see former Imperial and New Republic hero and wonder if pure whim was what made us decide to get married. I remember seeing polls asking for predictions on how long it would take before we divorced.
They don't understand what ties us together. The Force, yes, but more than that. More simple, and more complicated--I love him. And he loves me. Even if our relationship was stranger than Han and Leia's, even if it took us longer...our feelings are no less strong.
People don't understand our relationship, but it doesn't matter, because we do.
--
He wants me to finish the training. You won't have to give up your job, he tells me. I'm not asking you to join the Jedi. Just finish the training.
Idiot. I won't have to give up my job? Pffft. My job is over if I become a trained Jedi. Does he think that smugglers and traders will do business someone with the ability to read and influence their thoughts? It doesn't matter that it only works on the weak-minded; they won't believe that, and won't deal with me.
It's my life, and I won't give it up so easily.
--
He was such a strange man. So trusting. How could someone have that much faith, with the Force stripped away and untouchable?
And he trusted her. Trusted her enough to guard him while he slept and pick vornskrs off his back like sandfleas, despite her oft-mentioned vow to kill him--enough to give up his only weapon after just saving her life.
He was a fool, and her Master would have told her to kill him for that alone, for fools were not to be tolerated.
Soon, she whispered to her Master's memory. Once we've left this damn forest. Soon.
Droidekas. I have renewed sympathy for the Jedi in the Clone Wars--droidekas are a headache and a half. And Mara and I get to deal with one all by ourselves, with random Vagaari popping up and trying to join the fun. Joy.
She, at least, is mostly calm, if somewhat frustrated. I just want to get past this obstacle and move on. We've got to stop Estosh.
I admire her focus, though. Even years after Yoda's death, I have problems with keeping my mind on where I am. She anchors me.
Together, we can get rid of this thing.
"It's raining," he said, and pulled her outside.
"Luke!" she sputtered, wrenching her hand away. "What are you doing?"
His eyes laughed at her. "Dance with me," he demanded, peremptorily putting his hand on her waist and taking her hand in his.
She eyed him, even as she slowly raised a hand to his shoulder. "Luke, there's no music," she said, as if speaking to a child.
"There's music," he said. "Or a beat, at least. Listen."
The rain pounded out a rhythm on the pavement, and she reluctantly smiled. "I suppose," she conceded, and didn't even mind getting wet.
--
I can't watch him go on like this. Does he even realize what he's doing? How much he's using the Force, how powerful he's getting?
He probably does, but thinks that it's a good thing. That the more power he gets, the more lives he can save.
I wonder if Vader thought that way, once. I wonder if Palpatine thought that way.
I've seen, intimately, where the quest for power, for whatever reason, eventually leads. I don't want Luke going down that path.
Will he listen to me, though, since I refuse to train with him and be a Jedi?
--
"You said you wanted to learn some hand-to-hand," she said, impatiently.
"Well, yeah--"
She raised an eyebrow. "Afraid of being the student again?"
His eyes narrowed. "No, of course not. Good teachers learn from their students." Well, he thought, I suppose it's a good opportunity to work on my control.
"So come on." The glint in her eyes turned challenging, and a smirk played across her lips. His throat suddenly went dry.
I will act normal, he told himself. She's a friend. She won't appreciate--
Her hand closed around his wrist and tugged, and despite himself, he flushed.
--
He shivered as he slept, despite being wrapped in blankets, despite the heat being on. They were in the middle of space, yes, but he shouldn't be able to feel cold, not on as good a ship as the Sabre.
She'd never met someone as attuned to temperature changes, and wondered if it was a product of his upbringing on Tatooine. Never mind that he'd stopped living in a desert decades ago...
He shivered again, and curled his body a little tighter. She moved closer, straightened out the blankets, wrapped her arms around him, and smiled as he stopped shivering.
--
"I understand why attachment was forbidden in the old Order," he murmured to her sleeping form, her bright red hair accentuating the paleness of her face. "If I lost you..."
I won't. I can't.
If I do?
"Don't leave me," he whispered, emphatically, telling her now what he couldn't tell her waking self. He knew she didn't like to think it, but she relied on his strength, and his ability to pretend everything was normal. He couldn't let her know how this illness was scaring him.
If I lost you...what would I do?
But the Force gave him no answer.
--
"I'll be back soon," she said. "Karrde thinks it'll only take a week, two at most."
He simply nodded, though she could feel his desire to take her in his arms and not let her out. She felt a similar impulse, but fought it away--she owed too much to Karrde to so suddenly leave the organization. When he'd offered to let her extricate herself slowly, with time in between trips to be with her newly-acquired husband, she'd accepted the offer.
She hadn't thought it would be so hard to say goodbye, though. Or that it wouldn't get any easier.
--
She was pregnant. The knowledge hit him, seeming to bash him over the head with a cacophony of thoughts. I'm going to be a father--Force, her illness--the war!--we'll be parents--I'm going to be a father...
He looked up at her, and could tell she was worried. He had to admit that he was, too. To bring a child into the galaxy in such times...
A child...my daughter, or my son. About to be reality.
This was unexpected, yes, but so had been the love he found with Mara. And, just like that, this was worth it.
--
She was beautiful. He snuck a glance at her, but quickly looked away before she could catch him. She definitely wouldn't appreciate him looking.
Beautiful...but he did not doubt her when she said she wanted to kill him. He might not be able to actually feel her hatred through the Force, but she expressed it through everything she did.
Why did she hate him so? She must be an ex-Imperial, that was the only thing that made sense, but this seemed far more personal than just being on opposing sides.
He hoped he found out her reasons before he died.
--
Luke Skywalker.
The Empire, unfortunately, did not have many files on him, but Mara looked at what there was.
Raised on Tatooine, left in the company of Jedi Kenobi, rescued Princess Organa, blew up the Death Star, and eventually became a major thorn in the Empire's side all by himself. A wannabe Jedi.
So, he had use of the Force. She would have to find ways to work around that, and incapacitate him.
Had a mysterious meeting several months ago with Darth Vader, wherein he lost a hand. No further information, though.
No matter. She would still do her duty.
--
She didn't understand him.
She didn't like him, and he knew that. Maybe she didn't want to kill him anymore, but she definitely wasn't about to become his biggest fan.
And yet...he offered his life for hers. For his sister and brother-in-law's too, but also for her. And if C'Baoth had accepted, she had no doubt that he would have gone through with it.
No one had ever been willing to give up so much on her account before. But Skywalker had, even though he knew she disliked him, and once wanted to kill him. She didn't understand it.
Why?
--
He was such a natural father. Ben bounced in his lap, smiling and laughing, as Luke read him a story, complete with voice changes and sound effects.
Mara watched from the kitchen door, leaning against the frame, almost surprised at how content she was. Had she ever thought, when she was younger, that she could have ended up here...she'd have laughed.
Luke looked up at her and winked, but continued the story. He would have picked up on her thoughts, though she didn't mind.
She really had come a long way from the bitter assassin who wanted to kill him.
--
Someone was watching him.
Well, everyone was watching him, but this was...different. He continued on with his carefully prepared speech, trying not to look at how Leia was mashed up against Jabba, but part of him wondered.
This watcher felt--dangerous. Like Boba Fett was dangerous, except that Fett was obvious, and this wasn't. Could Jabba have hired another bounty hunter of Fett's caliber?
Jabba laughed at him, but that was expected. More of Luke's attention went to the problem of the watcher, and why it made him feel so uncomfortable.
Then the floor beneath him opened, and he fell.
--
"Drop it," she snapped. "I'm just a bit sick. People get sick all the time. I'll get over it."
"The Force didn't help you when you tried to get rid of it," he said, quietly. "Mara--"
"I feel fine. I don't need your coddling!"
Luke closed his eyes, then opened them again. "You're not getting better, though. It's been weeks."
"So it's persistent." She shrugged, but he could still feel her anger. "I'm not going to spend all day in bed over something stupid like this."
"Mara--"
"Drop it." Her voice was cold, and he knew he lost.
--
It's amazing how many things about Outbound Flight don't make sense. What exactly Thrawn did, how the control Dreadnaught is the one buried deepest--and how everyone here regards Jedi as "pure evil" when Outbound Flight left before the Purges. If it had left during the Empire, then I could understand why the people here would still think of Jedi as the enemy, but...
Luke isn't that bothered by it. I suppose he's been called evil by too many people, especially after Endor, to be phased by it now.
I don't like it, though. They don't know him at all.
--
She woke up when something pressed against her side. It wasn't Luke; her body was accustomed enough to his that often they would wake tangled together, though they hadn't fallen asleep that way.
But a whispered, "Mommy?" solved the mystery.
"Yes, sweetie?" she asked, quiet enough not to wake Luke, whose presence in her mind was still asleep.
"Had a nightmare," Ben mumbled into her pillow. "Wanna sleep with you and Daddy."
"Of course," she reassured, and gathered her son into her arms, pressing a kiss into his hair. He went willingly. "Good night, Ben," she murmured.
"Good night, Mommy."
--
"It's not fair."
She laughed. "Still the farmboy," she teased. "Surely you've learned not to expect fair by now."
He settled his head against the gentle swell of her chest. "I'm going to have to wake up sometime, aren't I?" he grumbled; but it wasn't really a question.
"Everyone does."
"I don't want to," he breathed, nuzzling her slightly. "I want to stay here, where you're mine."
"And where you're mine," she agreed. Her fingers tangled in his hair. "Give our waking selves time, Luke. We'll figure it out."
Then he woke, with the feeling of having dreamt, and forgotten.