Category: AU, Romance, semi-Dark
Keywords: Vader, Anakin, L/M, death
Summary: After Vader's revelation on Bespin, Luke tries his best to deal with the truth. Yet the pain and loneliness may become too much for him and it takes the company of an enemy for him to heal. Though what will happen when Luke finds himself falling for her and when his final confrontation with Vader becomes imminent? Takes place in after ESB and during ROTJ and after.
A/N: I've always wanted to write a serious Luke and Mara romance since I began reading a lot of L/M fics on the net. Some of them were fantastic and yet there were others that I thought I could have done better. Well after some debating with myself, I decided to write this. Timeline wise, you could say that this takes place during SOTE, but I'm not going to focus very much on the Xizor/Vader conflict. The father/son relationship in Star Wars has always fascinated me so I decided to also focus a little on it in this fic, also Leia and Luke's relationship in Star Wars had struck another fascination so I delved a little on the brother/sister thing too. I hope you enjoy reading this and a little note of advice is that I write for my own pleasure, but reviews do occasionally motivate me to write faster. *g*
Chapter One:
There were times, when a new rebel recruit would spy Luke Skywalker, and suddenly become struck in awe over seeing the pilot who'd destroyed the Death Star. Most recently he'd also become known as the Rebel who faced Darth Vader one on one and lived to tell about it. Those with little prudence and too much boldness for their own good would occasionally try and become 'chummy' with him. Luke tolerated their company like he would tolerate a cut on his arm. Like a cut, they were just there and he could do nothing except wait for it to be gone.
On most occasions their chumminess would last for a week before they would lose interest in him and be with other people who had more 'life' in them.
Luke could hardly blame them for losing interesting in him. It was because of recent events that had caused him to become more isolated. Yet their choice to choose someone else to be friends did leave a bitter sensation in his heart. He loved making friends as he did flying. He had the same charm in friend making as he did in attracting dust. It came naturally and thus was the reason why his list of friends to invite for a party would usually include the whole of the Rebellion.
Though once in a while, there would come a 'friend' that didn't know how to keep his or her mouth shut. Luke had learnt to spot them over the years and avoided them. Yet that magnet of his always attracted them and he would never have the heart to tell them off. So he tolerated them until the eventual question came up: "Why?"
Upon being asked the first time,
Luke had replied with, "Why what?"
"Why fight?"
He'd been stumped the first time, but now having heard the question over 10 billion times the answer came easier. Luke of three years ago would have answered that it was for the excitement of course. That young, and green Luke knew nothing about war and the consequences it had, but after two years in service with the Rebellion, Luke's answer changed. At that time, he was the young commander of the infamous Rogue Squadron. When asked the question, he'd answer: "For those who deserve the freedom that you and I have." As the young commander, Luke had seen enough horrors to make even the toughest of new recruits become sick.
Now, Luke's answered had changed once more. When asked, he would answer with: "Because I need to prove to myself that I'm not like him." Though when the reply was not as satisfactory as the other would have wanted, they'd accept the response. Even though they'd quite often wonder whom this mysterious 'he' was.
Miraculously, the week after Luke's horrific battle with Vader on Bespin had been recruit less. Perhaps some of the wiser Rebels understood Luke's annoyance having to tolerate the young 'newbies' and gave them warnings. Perhaps the newer recruits saw the pain in his eyes and thought it better to stay away from him. Whatever the reason, Luke was thankful that he'd been left alone.
Well, not completely alone, there was Leia, who visited him quite often in the med-centre. Her company was more comforting to him than anything else. She understood what pain felt like and she never asked him questions. He loved her for that, she wasn't nosy and never tried to figure out what had happened, she would leave him in peace when he requested it and not be hurt like others.
The day when Luke was released from the med-centre, Leia had been waiting to escort him back to his quarters. She grinned at him and slipped her hand into his when he walked into the corridor. She'd made a point of holding his right one. Luke didn't push her away but accepted her hand and even gave it a comforting squeeze before they began to walk.
"Good to see that you are able to walk," she teased.
Luke grinned at her and shrugged. "I was wondering the same thing myself," he paused and then added. "Actually the question that was frequently popping in my mind when I was stuck in there, was whether or not I could restrain myself from ripping off that blasted 21-B's head."
Leia chuckled and shook her head. It was wonderful to see Luke returning to his old self again… or at least become something that was close to his older self. She wasn't sure what had been bothering her, but Luke had obviously changed. Those first few days after Bespin had been haunting enough that neither of the two spoke of it.
"He is rather annoying," Leia admitted. "I've wondered the same thing quite a few times myself."
The two laughed, but Leia noted sadly that their conversations always had to be so guarded. She could never speak of anything that had to do with the Empire when she was around Luke and he never spoke of Han around her. She knew that would change eventually, she just had to make a point of when to bring the subject up.
Luke soon came to a stop as they arrived at his quarters. Being a commander certainly did have its perks when it meant that Luke could get his own closet sized room. He gave her a wistful smile and began to head inside. Though once the doors opened, he paused and turned to face the princess.
"Do you want to come in?" he asked, an eyebrow arched.
Leia hesitated, remembering the
stack of papers that were on her desk. Though upon seeing Luke's crestfallen
expression when he realized that her answer might be no, she brushed the
thought out her mind and gave him a smile. Luke's face broke into a grin as he
stepped aside and gave her room to pass.
Like most of the accommodations on board any Alliance ships, Luke's quarters were bare and had little decorations. Not many pilots had the money or time to spend on frivolous activities such as decorating a room. Though in Luke's case, having just received his room only a day ago, Leia could hardly blame him for the bad décor.
"Feels just like old times," Luke muttered. He pulled up a chair for Leia and gestured for her to sit. Realizing that Leia had taken occupancy of the only chair in the room, the rebel commander had to use his bed as a seat.
"Sitting around in a dingy room, hiding from the Empire and basically bored out of our minds," Leia began to laugh. "It certainly does seem like we're getting back to our old habits." She ended her laugh was a wide grin, though it felt like she was forcing herself to smile. She wanted to be happy around Luke, but knowing what they'd went through left a void inside her. Laughter just seemed harder to reach.
"Better than freezing on Hoth," Luke returned.
Leia smirked. "Oh right, I'd quite imagine moisture farmers from a desert planet would hate the cold."
"Cold?" Luke repeated with arched eyebrows. "Hoth was freezing. If I'd stayed there any longer than I'd probably would have frozen to death."
The grin on Leia's face was gone as soon as Luke had uttered the word 'death'. Since their return from Bespin, he'd made many subtle and sometimes none too subtle hints of suicide. It'd taken a slap to the face and a brief scene, where Luke broke down and cried, before he would stop.
Catching his mistake, Luke quickly tried to fix it, "Leia, I didn't mean to." He reached forward and took her hand, his hand brushed over calloused skin. Leia admitted once that as a child, that her hands had been described as being smoother than flower petals. Yet since joining her Rebellion the princess had to forget her royal title and perform physical labor, which took a toll on her skin. Her rough skin didn't bother Luke the slightest but it wasn't hard to imagine how soft it could have been. His hand founds its way to her cheek and just touching it made him believe in those claimed praises.
Leia closed her eyes as he began to caress her cheek. She could imagine Han doing this to her, but the man who was touching her wasn't the Corellian Pirate she wanted. Leia pulled his hand away and started to feel guilt welling up. Luke didn't deserve to be used as a substitute for Han. It was unfair not only to him but also to the missing smuggler.
"Luke," She didn't let go of his hand but instead interlaced her fingers with his. She gazed into his eyes and was mildly surprised to see him waiting for her to continue. He acted as if he knew what was to come. Leia continued despite her assumption. "I can't let you go on like this. You care for me I know that. And I care for you too."
Luke tightened the grip of their entangled fingers. "But we're just friends?" he finished. He didn't appear angry but there was something in his eyes that told Leia that he was at least regretful.
"Yes," she replied, there was a humorless smile on her face. "I suppose this talk had to come someday. I'd been thinking about speaking with you since…" She wondered if it'd be wise to say 'Bespin' but realized she'd left her sentence lingering for too long.
"Well," she continued. "Han and I, we love each other."
"I know that," Luke said quietly. He saw the look of shock on her face and quickly explained. "I really don't know how I know, but I feel it whenever he's mentioned. It's not the feeling of missing a friend, it's a feeling of missing someone deeper."
Leia nodded and suddenly felt grateful to have a friend who understood even if he'd been aided by unnatural empathy. "Then I guess all this worry I had about making sure you understand was all for nothing," she muttered and glanced up at him with a smirk.
Skywalker chuckled softly. "I guess so," he shrugged and quickly loosened their fingers. "I guess I'd better back off or else Han's gonna have my head on a platter."
Leia shook her head and quickly glanced towards the inset chrono in the far wall. Her face scrunched in a frown. "I wish I could stay longer," she said and was near sighing. "But I'm swamped with work."
Though disappointed over her brief visit, Luke resisted the urge to object and insist for her to stay longer. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. "Glad I'm not you," he joshed. Leia snorted and gave him a playful punch on the shoulder.
"Then consider yourself lucky," she retorted and headed for the exit. Though her tone was indignant the wink she'd shot at him showed amusement. Leia paused at the door and turned to regard the farmboy turned hero. He gestured for her to continue and with a single nod she left his room.
Once the doors were safely closed--and with the help of the Force--locked, Luke hugged his knees to his chest. There was a tiny stirring in the Force and soon the lights flickered out. In the darkness, Luke buried his head in the small shelter his enfolded arms made.
Despite the fact that she was half way across the ship Leia knew that Luke was upset. She felt the wave of anguish wash over her and knew by the sense of it that this feeling was coming from Luke. She contemplated whether or not she should go back and comfort him or to continue back to her room.
Perhaps not so thankfully, the decision was made for her. Up ahead was General Crix Madine who was walking purposefully towards her. She groaned and knew that he wouldn't be at this section of the ship if he didn't have some sort of important mission for her. She wondered if it'd be too late to just duck into a room or maybe if she ignored him.
Leia quickly resumed walking back towards her quarters and tried to be indistinguishable when she passed the General. On most occasions, her power of being unnoticed would work, but Madine was a smarter man and spotted her with ease.
"Princess!" he feigned surprise. "What a pleasure to see you! I'd been hoping to run into you today."
"Really?" Leia asked with
disinterest. "You have Alliance business with me, General?"
"What else would it be?" Madine smiled. Most of the time he would have been a very amiable man to be around but it was rare for him to smile. The general was usually found with either a serious or grim expression on his face, a smile seemed very foreign on him.
"And what business is it?" Leia asked, never slowing her pace down.
The two turned a corner in the corridor and Leia noted that they were nearly at her quarters. Perhaps if she walked fast enough, she might be able to make it inside and avoid being handed more work.
"A mission," Madine replied.
Well that sent her idea down the drain. Letting out a built up sigh, the rebel princess stopped her quick pace and turned to face the General. " A mission?" she repeated, irritation was clearly evident in her voice. "And what does the Alliance want of me now, General? I'm on leave, yet my desk is still piled high with stacks of datapads."
The General's pleasant façade disappeared and was replaced with his usual solemn look. He seemed more familiar to Leia now. "I'm sorry, Princess," he apologized, though there was no hint of remorse in his voice. "You know the Alliance is going through a rough time, without a base, things are harder. We would seek others to help us out too, but you're the most dependable and reliant officer in this organization."
"I'm flattered," she bit out. "Now, what's this mission? What needs to be done?"
Had it been anyone else who'd spoken to Madine like Leia had then they'd found themselves with only rations as their meals for a week. Yet it was Leia's commitment to the Rebellion that kept Madine from issuing the unpleasant punishment.
Instead, he answered her question, "Merely that you find a suitable strike team," he paused and then added, "one that is capable of escort duty. You'll find all needed information in this." He handed her a datapad and gave the Princess a curt nod before he left. Leia stared down at the datapad. Yet another item to add to her stack. Leia continued to her quarters.
*~*~*~*~*
If you'd seen one filthy, sixth world, vermin invested, scum hole of a planet, you'd seen them all. There was really no difference between planets with an economy that lied solely on one spaceport. They all shared the basic elements, filth, cantinas and smugglers. Thus, Antorah wasn't much a sight to Mara Jade, the Emperor's Hand, when she stepped off her personal ship and onto the landing pad.
She grimaced when she was hit with a blast of wind that was tainted by the foul stench of the planet's waste. Though having been raised to tolerate anything that was the slightest bit uncomfortable, Mara quickly ignored the smell.
Antorah did have a few interesting spots to it, these people excelled in interesting ship designs. There were a few ship factories she would have liked to explore but she needed to find her contact. She'd been sent on a mission only a few weeks ago to track down her newest target. This person apparently was some sort of Imperial defect who had information that could do serious harm to the Empire. Though strangely enough, unlike her other missions, the Emperor didn't seem to be pressuring her very much about getting this one completed.
She entered another grimy street and began scanning for the cantina her contact had named. It didn't take here very long to find the Wet Dancer. Its flashing signs weren't hard to miss. Bracing herself at the entrance, Mara prepared for the worst smells imaginable. Once she was certain she was ready, Mara pushed the door open and entered.
Once inside, Mara quickly scoped the cantina for dangers before she found herself a booth in the back. After spending only a few minutes inside, Mara knew just how the Wet Dancer got its name. The entire cantina was filled with hollers and hootings from the rather male crowd as they watched dancers--who were obviously wet--go through a very suggestive dance. Mara watched the dancers for a few moments and decided that she could probably do a better job at their dance than them.
Turning her head away in disgust, she began to wonder whether her contact was going to make an effort to show up.
As if on cue, she heard someone behind her mutter something softly which was lost in the crowd's cheer. The person then repeated once more in a louder tone.
"Hello there, sweet thing."
Mara glanced up to see a youth who was just about her age taking the seat across from her. She arched her eyebrows and noted the blue pin that was on his collar. That was what her contact had said he'd be wearing and that was how she'd be able to identify him.
Gauging him casually, Mara asked, "Want anything to drink?"
"Alderaani brandy," he replied.
This man knew their code of confirmation. She nodded, finally convinced that he was the one she'd been waiting for. Leaning forward, she rested her chin in her hands, knowing that this would give the man a higher status than her. She'd studied body language and knew how to make a man feel superior even without saying a word.
Crowds annoyed Mara and loud cheering crowds were worse. Ignoring discomfort was easy, but if the opportunity arose to not be uncomfortable, than she'd choose that over tolerance. "I'm planning on a trip… can you suggest a place?" she asked, quickly getting to the point. Yet how fast she'd get away from this cantina depended on how intelligent her contact was.
Her contact smirked. At least not everyone around here was as stupid as Mara had assumed. Instead of answering, he shook his head. "Not until I get what I want," he replied.
Scowling, Mara reached into her tunic and pulled a datapad and slid it across the table. "There's my account number, that password will give you access to my sub account and the amount of credits you asked for, no more, no less."
Picking up the datapad, he gave her a doubtful glance. "And how am I to know that this is real?" he asked and waved the plastic copy in front of her face.
"You'll know when you find yourself as a rich man," Mara retorted. "It's real."
"Sorry, girlie, but no information until I'm certain that it's real," her contact paused before a sly grin lit his face. "But I'm certain you won't have any qualms with accompanying me to my ship?"
A seething Mara ground her teeth as she realized her contact had given her no choice but to agree. Had they'd been any other place except for a crowded cantina then she would have broken his hand and forced the information out of him. Instead had little choice but to follow him. If she didn't then she would end up losing the Empire enough credits that could have been spent on building a small squadron of TIE fighters.
"Fine," she bit out and gestured for him to go lead the way.
*~*~*~*~*
It'd been quite a few days before Luke was finally called for a debriefing. Strangely, by that time, Luke felt no fear. He'd spent enough nights in bed thinking over what he'd say when High Command would start asking him questions. By now, his story had already been formed and he'd tried his best to anticipate every question they might ask.
And so it did not surprise him that High Command bought his story. He gave a brief account of what happened to him after Hoth: that he'd been training with a Jedi Master. They bought his excuse that the Jedi Master wished to keep his location in secrecy. Then he told them of his vision and how he'd rushed off to Cloud City to face Vader. He'd told them of being trapped on the gantry and the offer Vader had given him and then of his jump and being rescued by Leia.
Naturally, his superiors were curious about the reason why Vader wanted him to join the Empire. Luke's answer was that he was the last of the Jedi and very powerful and that Vader wanted to destroy the Emperor. Obviously the Emperor had to be powerful to have kept Vader in line for so many years and Vader needed his help. Knowing how everyone thought of Vader as a traitorous villain, Luke had little anxiety when he'd finished his reply and felt the sense of acceptance in the room.
There was only one problem Luke had not anticipated. While giving his recount he'd willingly allowed himself to relive through the battle of Bespin. When he told the story, all of the memories he'd kept locked up so tightly in the back of his mind, flooded to the surface freely. He remembered with vivid detail, the smell, the nervousness, and the tension in the freezing chamber as he was lifted into it. He remembered the gloomy air and the terrible sense of darkness. It'd been more real, more palpable than the tree cave on Dagobah. Then the memory of his confrontation with Vader came to the front and Luke could remember how he was suddenly filled with a sense of confidence.
Luke had to work hard on mastering his facial expressions as he'd gone into detail about his duel with Vader and how he'd lost his hand. When that memory surfaced, his right hand had flared in pain. He clenched it into a fist and then paused during his story telling when the memory of Vader's revelation came.
No, I am your… Vader's phantom mask seemed to hover before Luke, obscuring his vision. The memories were too fresh for him. He wasn't ready for them yet. He was going to faint, he was… No, he needed to get a grip and stay strong. He couldn't let himself faint right in front of High Command. That would send any chance of promotion for him out the window.
He remembered falling. The feeling of freefall had pumped enough adrenaline in his system for him to start running a marathon. It was as if he was falling right into hell and there was Vader staring down at him. But the fall was his escape from the demon that tried to take his life--his soul.
"Commander Skywalker?" Admiral Ackbar wheezed.
Luke snapped back into reality and glanced towards the Mon Calamari. "Yes sir?" he asked and winced inwardly at how his voice wavered. He hoped no one else noticed.
"Perhaps it's still too early for you, Commander Skywalker," Mon Mothma said softly and locked gazes with Luke.
The young Jedi shook his head. "No," he replied. "I'm alright, I want to get this over with, if you don't mind, Ma'am."
After a moment of hesitation, Mon Mothma complied and gestured for him to continue. Luke recounted his fall and how he'd called out to Leia with the Force. He remembered the feeling of reassurance from her as she heard him. When he felt her acknowledge his call, he knew that he was safe as long as he had her watching his back.
He told them about the rescue and how the hyperdrive had failed. He made a point of not telling the senior commanders of how he'd been ready, at that moment to give into Vader. He also didn't tell them of how he'd almost regretted that they'd made the jump to hyperspace. When he was done, he clasped his hands together and waited for their response.
The members of High Command exchanged sullen glances and hushed whispers amongst each other. Luke was almost tempted to read their minds, though after thinking it over he decided that perhaps it would be best not to know what they thought of him. He continued to sit in silence while the other commanders spoke of him as if he weren't there.
Once the whispering stopped, Mon Mothma turned to face him. Even if he'd never known that the Rebel Alliance's leader had been a Senator, Luke would have been able to tell right away. Her composure and the way she acted was just the same as Leia, yet unlike Leia, this woman seemed colder than the princess. "Commander Skywalker, you may leave."
Luke didn't question her order since he didn't want to invoke any sort of trouble amongst his commanders. Instead the young Jedi gave a curt nod and left. When he entered the corridor, he began to wonder where he could go now. He had two options: his own room or perhaps he could visit Leia. Stretching out with the Force, Luke felt the frenzied state that Leia was in and decided that perhaps pursuing the latter option would not be good for his health. It was quite clear to him that she was too busy at the moment to pay any attention to him.
"Hey Luke!"
The voice was familiar and Luke immediately recognized it. A grin spread across his face as he turned and spotted Wedge. The young pilot was dressed in a gray flight suit and was waving at him from down the hallway. Realizing that he'd caught his commander's attention, Wedge dashed towards Luke and was soon by his side. With a laugh Wedge clapped his friend on the back.
"So Boss, what were you just up to?" Wedge grinned and with uncanny strength was able to pull his friend closer to him in a half hug.
"Debriefing," Luke's reply lacked the usual emotion that his friends were used to hearing.
There was a tense silence between the two comrades as they stood uncomfortably in the middle of the corridor. Wedge didn't miss how dejected his friend appeared. Swiftly catching Luke's arm, he allowed a wide grin to spread on his face. "Well then, let's drown out those memories of the stuffy pants by joining the rest of the Rogues in a drinking binge?"
Late night drinking binges were of course, a normal occurrence for the Rogues. They were a bunch of hot shot pilots that couldn't stand being cooped up for too long so usually they'd fight back cabin fever by getting drunk. The pilots tried to forget the fact that they were locked up in a ship by smuggling in alcoholic drinks. Those who were able to find a vat of Corellian brandy were praised and honoured amongst the Squadron.
"I don't know Wedge…" Luke muttered.
For a Corellian, any person who answered in straightforward answers was always taken seriously. Those who gave uncertain answers would be casting themselves at the Corellian's judgment. At the moment, Wedge's judgment was that Luke wanted to join them and thus dragged the young Commander to the pilot's lounge.
A drinking binge without noise and hooting was not a drinking binge and all members of Rogue Squadron knew this. So when Luke and Wedge entered the lounge, they were greeted by a cacophony of catcalls and howls. Both senior members of the Alliance's most elite group of pilots exchanged weary expressions when Hobbie began to do his best impersonation of a Wookiee.
"Cut the chatter boys, guess who I found?" Wedge shouted over the din. Every Rogue in the room turned their attention towards the door and spotted Wedge, forcefully dragging Luke inside.
It was not unknown that the members of Rogue Squadron adored and admired their commander and thus a loud cheer erupted in the room. Some members even went as far as to bang the tables with their fists and started grunting like primitive humanoids.
"Skywalker!" Janson hooted and held his mug of Corellian ale in the air. Other followed Janson's lead and held their drinks up as well.
"Obviously a very popular commander," Wedge muttered and shot Luke a grin before disappearing into the crowd. Luke was left standing nervously in front of the dull eyes of his tipsy squadron.
Though very soon, the young Jedi found a mug of ale forced into his hands. The brown liquid sloshed over the rim of the mug leaving an embarrassing dark stain on the front of his shirt. He fumbled with the glass and finally found his grip before glaring at whomever had shoved the drink at him. He wasn't surprised to find Wedge grinning at him as he held his mug up in a mock salute.
"Come on, Boss, it's a drinking binge! Join the party!" he urged. The Corellian placed a hand on the small of Luke's back and shoved him forward.
Sighing, Luke relented and held his drink up as well. He found a grin beginning to form on his face as he began to down his ale.
*~*~*~*~*
"You ship?" Mara asked, unimpressed by the sight of her contact's vessel. She glanced towards him and saw the pride glinting in his eyes. She wondered if there was anything of the ship that anyone could be proud about. She glanced once more towards the rusted Corellian vehicle and still opted to stick with her original opinion.
"My baby," he corrected. There was a smirk on his face as he began to key in the codes. Once the ramp was lowered he gestured for her to go inside. "Ladies first."
Mara stared deadpanned at him and after being subjected under her gaze for three minutes, the contact shrugged and went inside first. The Emperor's Hand hesitated and followed him afterwards. She could make this a clean kill, but that could only happen if this brash man didn't have any shipmates. The murder of an entire crew could warrant enough worry amongst the locals of the spaceport for them to shut down all take offs and landings. Not only would it be an inconvenience but also the local authorities would probably send out investigators. The last thing Mara wanted was to be delayed from leaving this scum hole of a planet.
She found her contact in the cockpit, fiddling around with the transmitters. Mara watched him as he entered the codes from the datapad. Once information was directed back to him, the man whooped and cheered. She placed her hands on her hips and waited until he noticed her presence. When she had his attention she arched an eyebrow.
"Well?" she asked. "Are you satisfied with your money?"
"Most definitely," he replied and tossed the datapad onto the dashboard.
"And what about the location of Ardock?" she questioned. "I gave you the credits and I want the information."
She saw the glint of treachery in his eyes and felt the familiar sense of unease. She knew what was going to come next. Mara balled her hands into fists and slowly crossed her arms, her right hand reaching for her wrist blaster.
"Sorry, girlie, but I'd rather not endanger my health," her contact retorted. As expected he drew his blaster and cocked it in her direction.
"And who," Mara began and raised her eyebrows. "Would hurt you?"
"Black Sun, the Empire, the Rebellion," he returned. "I mean this Ardock, he's got allies with just about every big organization."
Mara rolled her eyes. "I'm pretty sorry," she said. "But you endangered your own health when you pointed that thing at me."
Her contact's arm hand wavered as he began to study her. Once he came to the assumption that she was no harm he relaxed and that was when Mara struck. It would be an over exaggeration to say that she'd moved as fast as lightning, yet her movements had been so quick that he didn't see it coming.
Mara knocked him to the ground and brought her knee onto his chest, pinning him. Her contact cursed furiously and began shooting wildly not giving a care for where his shots had struck. Just when the blaster was pointed to her chest, Mara ducked to the side and brought her right hand up in fierce chop on his blaster arm. The shock numbed his fingers, loosening his grip. The Emperor's Hand then smoothly yanked the weapon out of his hand and pointed it to his forehead, her finger hovering only a few millimeters away from the trigger.
"Now," she drawled and leaned forward, her free hand pressed against his chest, keeping him to the ground. "You will tell me where this Ardock is, or I will ensure that you suffer a most painful death."
Her contact blinked in obvious surprise at how easily she'd taken him down. His hands were free, yet he was smart enough not to attempt to break loose. Mara's stance and the way she was holding her weapon indicated an expert fighter.
Her eyes had the feral glint of a predator ready to finish off its prey. It was a wonder how she was able to restrain herself from pulling the trigger. Mara would have wanted nothing more than to rid the universe of one more piece of useless, trash. Yet this piece of filth held information that she wanted. It irked her that she actually needed someone like him to stay alive.
There was the sound of heavy footsteps pounding behind her. Mara cursed fiercely under her breath and brought the hand that had been keeping her contact to the ground to his throat. She turned her gaze towards the door, keeping one eye and one blaster on it while her other eye was on her quarry.
They stormed into the cockpit and paused for a split second to survey the scene before them. Mara knew immediately by their dress and stance that they had to be close friends with her contact. She tightened her grip on his throat and pulled him up and held his neck in a chokehold with one arm. Slowly rotating her position, Mara was now behind him. Her blaster was still aimed at the group, yet she knew that she stood little chance of winning the impending fight. The odds were against her.
Mara suppressed an urge to bite down on her lip. She couldn't let them see her anxiety, which would give them more power over her than necessary. There were two, well maybe three if you counted her former contact, against one. Two of them had blasters aimed at her. The last thing Mara really wanted to do was to have two more deaths on her hands, yet these men would surely know that there was something different about her and word would get out about her. The Emperor would eventually find out and most likely be displeased.
Better two more deaths than to face the Emperor's wrath, which was the decision that she made. Mara Jade pointed her blaster towards the first man and fired.