Title: "Counting Down"
Genre: Missing scene, pre-relationship, one-shot
Setting: Yavin 4, c. 18 ABY, before The Corellian Trilogy
Summary: Mara Jade introduces Luke to her new ship, the Jade's Fire.
Mara had been taught the basic principles of silence by many tutors in her youth, and over the years she had nearly perfected her abilities. Nearly; she had found that absolute perfection was difficult to achieve, generally. Nonetheless, it was with care that she approached the clearing in which she sensed Luke Skywalker.
He hadn't been difficult to find. When he wasn't masking his presence – something he'd been doing more often in the few occasions she'd seen him lately, but wasn't doing now – Luke stood out in the Force with remarkable clarity and control. At the moment, there was a good deal of something warm and calm in the mix as well. Happiness, perhaps? Peace? It was subdued, but steady.
Ah, Mara thought as she drew a little closer, remaining unobtrusive in the background by the shadows of the great Massassi temple in which he housed his academy. He was teaching; that explained it.
"… is a little like music," he was saying, his voice drifting across the wide clearing to Mara. "It's not a thing that you can grasp with your fingers, see with your eyes. But it touches you, more closely than a physical object can. You can feel it. That isn't something you need to be taught how to do, because it's instinctive. No one needs to teach you to hear a song; no one teaches you to feel the Force. But through learning we can refine our understanding of what we hear and feel…"
The students sitting around him were listening with varying degrees of interest. There were a handful of children scattered through the group, some quite young. A few adults sat towards the back, and there were teenagers in the middle and outer edges, some sitting, a couple standing. A small dark-haired boy sat at the front, before Luke's worn combat boots; he was watching a piece of grass flutter in the breeze.
A new group of students, perhaps. Some parents, along with their Force-strong children? Mara imagined there would be concerns, at first, about what their children would be taught at this strange academy. Luke doubtless invited them to stay as long as they wanted to; she couldn't see orphaned Luke Skywalker, a man who spent his childhood longing for a mother and father he'd never known, ever willingly separating parents from their children.
Mara eyed him. He was wearing dark pants, simply cut, and a lighter tunic, his hair a little longer than when she had last seen him. He wore no cloak or other accruements, perhaps out of deference to the day's humidity, though he'd never seemed one to be bothered by heat. Standing in the shade as he was, his hair appeared darker, more burnt heartwood than tow-coloured. He looked younger than his years, now, though Mara had also seen him look much older than he was.
"… find the Force anywhere," he was saying, walking across the grass before his group, passion for his words pushing him to movement, chin lifted, hands open – Mara had noticed that habit before. "In trees, in a blade of grass, a speck of dirt – in mountains, rocks, in you and me and every living and non-living thing. It's in everything that makes up the universe, binding us all together."
Mara smiled slightly, amused by his enthusiasm. Didn't he tire of it, she wondered, with so many classes to introduce to the Force? Didn't it become mundane? Or did his inherent joy in the Force, in his teaching, feed theirs, and vice versa? There was something infectious about that incredibly resilient faith of his, that wonder and optimism. It was oddly touching. Mara was no optimist at the core of her soul, but she recognised the strength in his unerring belief. Wouldn't it be easier to be a cynic? Men like Palpatine trusted only in the worst of people through greed and an obscure kind of laziness, and they brought out and preyed upon the vices of others. Falling back onto low expectation was easy; believing in better things was hard, especially for someone who'd lived the kind of life Luke Skywalker had.
Of course, that didn't mean Mara thought Luke's easy trust was always the wisest course of action. She didn't think his trust sprang from naiveté or ignorance, though, not anymore. Once she'd thought so, and once, perhaps, it had, but not now.
She waited while Luke finished speaking. A few of the students had questions, children and adults. Luke answered them, and the group began to break up. Luke went over to the dark haired boy who'd been watching the grass during most of Luke's instruction. He knelt and spoke to him a while; the boy nodded and nodded again, shook his head, watched Luke's face, watched his hands, moving and opening and indicating the sky above. When Luke stopped speaking, the boy stood, frowned at him a moment, then hugged him; Mara could read in Luke's body language that he was startled, but he patted the child's back, and the boy wandered over to join a group heading back toward the academy. Luke stood and rubbed his temple, looking after the boy for a moment, then turned and looked directly at Mara.
Mara sighed in resignation. At least her effort in unobtrusiveness seemed to have worked on the students. She walked over, meeting him halfway.
"Mara Jade," Luke said, gaze slipping briefly up and down. There was the edge of a smile around his lips, in his eyes; he thought he hid it, but didn't, not from her. "Come to hear me speak about the Force?"
"Ah, no," Mara said. "Sorry to break it to you, Skywalker. I'm not here for lessons."
He raised an eyebrow. "For the pleasure of my company, then?"
Mara snorted as she fell into step with him, heading back toward the main entrance to the academy. "What pleasure would that be?"
He rolled his eyes. "Ah, Mara. I missed your abuse."
"You asked for it." She pushed aside a thick vine dangling over the path.
He grinned. "How are you, though? You look well. Business running smoothly?"
"It always does."
"With you at the helm? It would be afraid to do otherwise."
"Damn right." Mara looked at him sidelong. "I have something to show you."
"Oh?" As she'd expected, he looked intrigued. "What's that?"
"You'll see."
"Huh." He examined her face with narrowed eyes. "Is it potentially lethal?"
"Stupid question – of course it is."
"Hm. Of course." He looked like he wanted to force it out of her; patience, hah. "Nearby? On your ship?"
"You'll see." Three students passed, two teenage humans and a young Twi'lek, all dressed in beige pseudo-Jedi garb; they murmured greetings, and Luke smiled at them. Mara nodded absently, and as their voices fell behind, she said, "Who was that boy you were talking to back there?"
"Hm? Oh, Kylos." Luke ran a hand through his hair and peered at front entrance of the temple, looming before them. "He's had a difficult time. Parents died, lived with his grandmother, but she's unwell. He's marginally Force-sensitive." He frowned. "I worry he'll feel he won't fit in here. He's so young."
"He seems to like you."
Luke smiled slightly. "I don't know what to make of him, half the time."
"It must be hard for some of them when you leave here, go running off after the latest crisis to pop up – what was it last time? A crystallising star or something? That Kueller lunatic?"
Luke's eyes narrowed. "I have a duty to help protect the rest of the galaxy as well."
Was that a hint of defensiveness? Interesting. "If you say so."
"You don't agree?"
"I just wonder who elected you the sole saviour of the galaxy for all time. Was there a vote I missed somewhere along the line?"
He opened his mouth, paused, and exhaled, glaring at her. He drew another breath, calmed his expression, and said, "You wouldn't understand, Mara."
Mara drew a breath of her own. I didn't come here to argue, she reminded herself. Even if he insisted on being an insufferable moron. When was he going to learn? "Whatever," she said shortly. "Do you want to see this?"
"See what? You haven't told me yet."
"This way," Mara said, stepping off the path. It was possible to access the docking area through the main entrance, but the quicker route from here was to cut around the corner of the temple and enter via the hangar opening. "You'll see."
Luke muttered something behind her about an obsession with being mysterious, but Mara ignored it. The grass, a tall thin-bladed species, was longer here by the base of the temple. It whispered oddly as it brushed her boots, its brilliant green a few shades lighter than the jumpsuit she wore.
She ducked around a low-hanging tree, pushing aside a protruding limb. The bark rasped against her palm protector. She glanced back to make sure Luke had the branch, and caught him looking at – her hair? Mara touched her tightly-bound braid, eyed him, and said suspiciously, "What?"
"Oh – nothing." He blinked and waved a hand absently. "I was just thinking – there's a certain shade that Yavin has, sometimes, that reminds me of your hair colour." He indicated vaguely toward the east as he pushed aside the branch and followed her; Mara glanced up at the flashes of orange visible through the foliage above. "When the sun's setting in summer, the planet becomes this deep red, and the light angles across the northern hemisphere – it's quite a sight. You should see it sometime."
"I've seen a lot of sunsets on a lot of worlds." Mara shrugged. "They tend to look the same after a while."
He smiled, an odd smile – vaguely sad. "I know what you mean." He glanced at the shadowed jungle, up at the dark stone temple rising above them. "Maybe it's only because this is home."
To her surprise, Mara was hit with a sudden sense of something deeply unfamiliar. She hadn't had a settled base since the fall of the Empire, a place to truly name as home. She didn't need one, she thought. Didn't want one. She was fiercely protective of her freedom, and had no desire to be tied to one place.
Still – despite that, because of that? – there was something there briefly in Luke's expression, something satisfied and warm, an indefinable sense of belonging as he looked at his academy in its ancientness, its fierce greens and deep quiet browns. Mara had seen the same look before in others, but she'd never before felt an inclination to experience it herself. That she now, suddenly, found herself caught by it – drawn to it, like it was a spark; something real, and tangible, that she could reach out to, and warm her fingers on, cup her palms around and hold to herself –
Mara scowled. Her subconscious was throwing her a skimmer disk, sending her spinning after nothing. I'm perfectly happy, and I have everything I need, she thought. Perfectly happy.
Luke was looking at her oddly.
"I wouldn't know," Mara said shortly. He lifted his eyebrows, and she frowned and strode on ahead, the grass swishing around her legs. The docking bay loomed before her, a dark mouth gaping open. Mara stopped, and held up a hand. "Wait."
Luke pulled up short, so close his tunic brushed her fingers. The fabric was worn and soft, some kind of natural weave. He gave her another odd look. "What's wrong?"
Mara turned and looked at him critically. "Close your eyes."
"What?" He examined her face. "You're serious?"
Mara nodded. "Close them."
His eyebrows knotted. When he saw she wasn't backing down, he sighed. "I can't help feeling this is a bad idea," he said, and closed his eyes.
"No peeking," Mara said automatically, in the same instant he half-opened an eye. He closed his eyes again, pulling a face. "And that includes using the Force." She took his arm and tugged him down the slight slope and into the hangar bay. It was largely empty of docked ships, save for a few transports, an older model shuttle, and, of course, an X-wing in the far corner. And then there was Mara's ship.
"Ow," Luke complained as his boot hit a piece of metal tubing on the floor, drawing her attention back to their immediate vicinity.
"Shouldn't have clutter in your docking bay," she said primly, steering him around a piece of tubing lying by the first one.
"People aren't generally forced to walk around in here with their eyes shut," he muttered.
"It didn't hurt," she said absently.
He snorted and waved a hand, dismissing the matter. "Can I open my eyes yet?"
Mara eyed the view, then nodded in satisfaction. "I suppose so."
He opened his eyes, the beginning of exasperation on his face. It quickly changed to surprise, then awe as he looked upwards. Mara's lips quirked.
"What on – is this your ship?"
"It is." Mara crossed her arms, watching him.
"I—" He stepped forward, eyes running from bow to stern. "What a beauty. SoroSuub – 3000 series?" He glanced at her, caught her nod, and went back to examining the fuselage. "With a few modifications, hm?"
"One or two," Mara said.
"Quad turbolasers?"
"And a shoot-back system – one of a kind."
He whistled lowly, pacing around to the front, tilting his head as he looked at the bridge. "Shielding?"
"Chempat-8 generators. Two."
"Nice. Very nice." He rubbed his jaw, bending to look at the repulsors. "How long have you had her?"
"A few months." Mara paused. "I called her the Jade's Fire."
Luke swung to look at her, an eyebrow raised. "Appropriate." He smiled.
Mara grinned back. "Up for a quick spin?"
"Absolutely," he said, without hesitating. "Are you kidding?"
Mara shook her head. "Once a flyboy."
"That's Master flyboy to you," he said.
"I'm not part of your academy, remember?" Mara fixed him with a mock glare as she crossed to the Jade's Fire and keyed past the security, lowering the ship's hatch.
"Yeah, I remember." Luke pulled an odd face briefly. He ascended the ramp behind her. "Is that a tractor beam projector?"
"Yes. Comes in handy." Mara slapped the control at the top of the hatch, and it slid closed. She turned down the corridor.
"Do you fly her alone?" Luke asked.
"Sometimes – I have a Veeone droid for co-piloting. Depends on the job." Mara stepped into the compact but – if she said so herself – very well-equipped bridge. "Speaking of droids, where's yours?"
"Artoo?" Luke slipped in, his attention immediately caught by the targeting and weapons array. "I left him on Coruscant. Leia needed some help with a data search she was doing, and Threepio was driving her crazy with his attempts at assisting."
"Doesn't she have staff for that sort of thing?" Mara eased past him and pointedly took her seat in the pilot's chair. He sighed, not looking too surprised, and sat in the co-pilot's seat.
"She does," he said. "I think it was of an unusually sensitive nature, or something. I tend to tune out when she starts going into detail." He gave her a rueful smile. "Good thing Jedi aren't expected to be involved in politics."
"You can't always rely on your sister, though," Mara said, starting the pre-launch sequence. "You never know, there might come a point where you'll have no choice but to get involved."
"I hope not." He grimaced, then looked at her. "Do you know something I don't?"
"No. Just thinking of history."
"Hm."
Mara keyed the com system on. "Jade's Fire to Yavin control, I'm abducting your leader, am I clear to launch?"
Luke gave her an exasperated look. The com crackled. A male voice said, "Uh, can you repeat that, Jade's Fire?"
Luke leaned forward. "It's fine, Jeq. I'm going up with Trader Jade for a short while. Are we cleared?"
"Oh, Master Skywalker. Sure – you're clear."
"Copy that, thank you." Luke keyed off.
Mara answered his dirty look with a saccharine smile, and ignited the repulsors.
"So where are we going?" Luke asked.
"Just a spin," Mara said. She glided out of the hangar and pushed the acceleration, the jungle a blur beneath them. "Thought you wanted to see what she can do?"
"Hm," Luke murmured, looking vaguely wistful. Probably thinking about how much he'd like to try the controls, Mara thought. Well, he wouldn't be getting the chance today. No one flew this ship but Mara herself.
"So how did you come by this ship, anyway?" Luke asked as Mara pushed the Fire into a curve, heading up through the atmosphere. "Something like this doesn't come onto the market often…"
Mara smiled grimly. "Wasn't on the market. It was – a gift, you might say. From a particularly satisfied client. Or his daughter, at any rate."
"Sounds like quite a story."
"Oh yes," Mara said. "Suffice to say, I earned my payment."
"I've no doubt you did." Mara caught Luke briefly touch the edge of the controls before him, an absent gesture. She'd seen him touch the top of his droid's domed head like that – fondly, with genuine affection. "She's worthy of you, Mara."
Mara glanced at him from the edge of her eye. He wasn't looking at her, instead looking through the viewscreen at the blues and greens merging on the moon below.
"Just a ship," she said, but it came out softly. "A good ship." Luke glanced at her, but looked back to the viewscreen, toward Yavin this time; she wasn't sure if he'd heard her. A damn good ship, she thought, almost a mental apology to the Fire. She wasn't sure why she felt she had to deny her attachment. She was allowed to be proud of her ship, wasn't she? It was hers, all hers, her home and her livelihood in one. And it was a damned good ship. And she'd earned it.
Better a ship than a world, anyway. A ship could take you anywhere you needed to go; get you there fast, get you away faster if need be.
"Those are some impressive sensors," Luke said.
"Mm. Highly modified," Mara said. "Particularly the long-distance scanners and targeting systems."
Luke murmured approval. Mara angled the ship around, heading back toward the moon's surface. She took the turn sharply, putting the Fire's manoeuvring capabilities to use. Luke didn't look discomforted – in fact, she suspected he was taking care to look purposefully relaxed. She half-expected a feigned yawn. She put the Firethrough its paces on the return journey to the temple; it was a much quicker trip, and the jungle below was a green blur. Luke continued to look unfazed, though she caught a slight smile on his face when he thought she wasn't looking. By the time she landed in the docking area, she wore a smirk herself.
"Tsk," she said. "Whatever happened to not craving excitement?"
"Never my strong point." Luke gave up the pretence and grinned.
"Once a flyboy," Mara chided.
Luke smiled and unstrapped the restraints. His eyes met hers, and his smile faded. He paused. Mara felt him gather himself, and her amusement drained away.
"Listen, Mara, you know you could stay and complete your training—"
"No." Mara slapped the port vents closed. She heard the sharpness in her voice, and added more evenly, "I have things to do."
Luke looked at her a moment. It stretched into a long, awkward silence.
Mara curled her fingers closed, feeling the rough edges of her palm protectors biting into her skin. Luke looked down, then looked up. His face was closed off, impossible to read. He nodded and stood. "Well, thanks for the ride."
"No problem."
He turned toward the corridor, paused as he realised she wasn't getting up, turned back and eyed her. "You're not going to come down for something to eat? A drink?"
Mara shook her head. "I have to get back."
He lifted his eyebrows slightly, but his face was still expressionless. "All right. I guess I'll see you around, then."
Mara nodded. "Take care, Skywalker." She said the words stiffly, but she couldn't have meant them more. Stop trying to get yourself killed.
"You too." He hesitated a beat, then nodded to her again, and ducked out.
She saw him on the viewscreen, descending the ramp, moving with easy economy, steps seeming confident and certain. He stopped at the bottom and shook his head, just once, sharply, and scrubbed a hand through his hair. Then he turned, lifted a hand to her though she knew he couldn't see her, and moved off toward the doors.
Mara watched him go. She blew out a breath. "Skywalker," she muttered. She wasn't certain whether it was endearment or curse. Probably the latter, she thought. Only rarely the former, and only in the privacy of her own head.
Damn the man.
Mara shook off her thoughts and began preparations to depart.