Mara was exhausted. She had just defeated the insane clone Joruus C'boath and completed her last command – to kill Skywalker.

In the past two hours, she had exerted herself through lightsaber combat and suffered through C'boath's lightning. Her muscles had never been sorer, and she couldn't wait to surrender to sleep on some bunk, preferably a soft bed.

Still, she took comfort in the fact that this battle was over. She wouldn't hear him anymore, giving her orders, making her his slave.

No, she would be her own, completely independent person now.

Yet as she observed Organa Solo and her husband, she had a feeling, as if something inside her was misplaced.

She saw that the pair cared for each other greatly, and she wondered: What was love? Did they share it? Would she, could she herself ever possibly. . .?

Mara quickly silenced that thought with a rigid negative. No, she was Mara Jade, ex-Emperor's Hand; she murdered in cold blood. No one could ever love that. Could they?

She was merciless and had no principals other than to get things done efficiently. She didn't have feelings, other than anger and annoyance. She was also not flexible. She was uncompromising and sharp. How could anyone love that, go to bed with it at night, and hold it in their arms? Mara was sure that she wouldn't be able to do it without feeling revolted.

"Mara, are you all right?" Skywalker's voice interrupted her thoughts and scattered them about in a mess.

"What?" she asked.

"I asked if you were okay. Are you? Force-lightning is pretty rough, I know."

The redhead was about to retort smartly, but then remembered that he was just asking purely out of concern. She hadn't gotten used to the feeling yet.

"I'm fine," she lied.

He raised an eyebrow disbelievingly. "No, you aren't. I can feel that in the Force. What's bothering you?"

Don't go there. "Nothing, Skywalker. I tell you, I'm fine." Mara felt uncomfortable with their close proximity to each other.

"A credit for your thoughts," he intoned, slightly joking with the phrase.

She ground her teeth. Did he simply get the point that she didn't want to divulge her personal thoughts to him?

Before she could make a seething reply, threatening to dismember one of his vital body parts, he spoke again,

"It's okay. But I'll always be here if you have any questions. I'm your friend, Mara. Get used to it." With that, he walked away to help move some of the equipment, leaving her sitting surprised on the tree stump.

Mara was exhausted. But this time, it wasn't due to any lightsaber battles, dark Force-lightning, crazy clones, or even her strange boss. No, she was exhausted from her droll week on Coruscant - constantly being in meetings.

And now, to top it all off, this little impromptu celebratory dinner hosted by the New Republic in honor of its victory against Thrawn. She, Karrde, Aves, and a few others from The Wild Karrde were attending.

The food, though tasteful enough, created the threat of running into another diplomat, or some boring being who had nothing else other than watery thanks for her efforts. This was quickly becoming monotonous, just like all the other parties she had been to during Palpatine's reign.

Off on the other side of the room, she heard laughter.

It was Organa Solo and her husband again. They hadn't brought their children, but were reminiscing to some of their friends.

She hadn't realized that she'd been staring until Skywalker appeared behind her and said,

"They're good together, aren't they?"

Taking a moment to calm her startled mind, she answered, "Skywalker, you just gave me your lightsaber. And I do not like to be sneaked up on!"

Though she still looked in the direction of the Solos, she could almost see the grin on Skywalker's face.

They stood there, side-by-side for a while, both happy to escape from bothersome people. Mara suddenly turned out onto the terrace of the ballroom – it was exactly as she had remembered it. Not even the vines that encircled the rails had changed.

Skywalker followed her out, leaning his elbows onto the railing.

Stars were glimmering brightly in the sky, bringing back memories for the two of them. Luke thought back to nine years ago, when he had been so eager to fly. His interest for flying hadn't changed much in the past decade – he still found the sight of open space thrilling.

On the other hand, Mara was focused on matters closer to the surface.

Abruptly, she said, "May I ask you a question?"

Skywalker turned to her, his blue eyes sparking in interest.

"Of course, Mara."

"Have you ever loved anyone?"

He hid his surprise rather well, but could tell by the way his body had temporarily stiffened.

"Romantically? No, nothing really serious. I've never had the time, or found the right person yet. Why? Have you?"

She almost laughed. Her? Love someone? If he didn't have the time, she certainly hadn't had any either.

"No. I'm just asking because, well. . . do you, I mean, not exactly believe in love but, I mean, do you have faith in love?"

His answer was rapid, almost a whisper. "Yes."

"I mean, I believe it exists – I've seen it," she recalled Leia and Han, "But it doesn't come around for everyone, you know? And it doesn't work out. People have a lot of hype about it. I don't think its all that special. It's rare, for sure, but--"

"Mara."

She exhaled. She had been blabbering foolishly, talking without thought. What Luke said next she found was unexpected.

"You're right." He shifted his feet. "Love is rare, and it doesn't always work out when it happens. I've never had a relationship like that, but I was close to my aunt and uncle and. . . my father, I guess. I mean, I loved all of them, and they died."

The former assassin couldn't help herself before blurting, "Well then why—"

"Because," he continued, "when you love someone, whether it's a friend, a relative or even a partner, and they love you in return, just because they die doesn't mean that you stop loving. They're still here," he gestured to his heart, "and it's the same the other way around."

"But what if it's a one-sided love? What if the person you love does something terrible? How can you continue to love them then?"

"I think that depends on what the other side is willing to feel," he replied, sensing remotely that she referred to herself.

"If they do something terrible? Say that a man murdered another. His wife will still love him, because love is –should be- unconditional." Luke was now referring to himself.

"I mean, my father did horrible things, all over the galaxy. Murders, genocide, torture – you know what I mean. But I have a feeling that he loved my mother, and I know that he had enough love for me, enough selflessness, to save me. And despite the facts of his crimes, I loved him too. I couldn't help it. He was my flesh and blood."

Mara bit her lip. "And all this from someone who's never had a romantic relationship?"

The farmboy-Jedi smiled again. "Who knows? Maybe I am, and just don't know it yet."

Once again, Skywalker left her alone to privacy. But not before laying his hand over hers reassuringly and saying,

"Thank you for confiding in me. We're friends, remember that."

As she heard his footsteps fade, she muttered under her breath.

"Yeah, friends."

Gazing up at the stars again, his strange words finally struck her.

If he says we're friends, doesn't that mean he loves me?

Mara decided that this was one thing she wouldn't ask about.