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It is her parents who first catch her eye. It surprises Leia how youthful and happy they look – full of hope and promise, though they always tried to be that way with her.
It touches her Luke would show this to her.
“But how did you know?”
“How could I not? Look at how similar you are.”
He points to another woman completely. Leia blinks.
The woman on the holo resembles Leia remarkably or, rather, Leia resembles her. It is the woman she remembers as Sidonie Panteer, but she doesn’t bear any traces of the sadness Leia has come to associate with her. Nor does she carry the great weight of the Rebellion, drooping her shoulders and dulling her eyes.
Leia thinks herself plain compared to the radiant Padmé Amidala – their mother.
She wipes at her eyes, preventing tears from falling. Luke puts a protective arm around her.
It is the first time he’s seen their mother – his first true memory of her; not half-remembered stories or vague impressions. Leia hopes she will stay this way in his mind: young and beautiful and happy.
He points to someone else, “And look, there’s Ahsoka. Gods, she’s so small. I wonder how long ago this was.”
Yes, there is Ahsoka, young and happy, like all the rest. It strikes Leia as odd.
“Or what they were doing.”
For her parents to be with Padmé Amidala makes perfect sense, but for the three of them to be with Ahsoka is puzzling.
She scans the holo for any indication.
It is mostly senators and statesmen by the look of it (Colton Alde pokes his head out from around her father), but there are several men and women dressed in tunics and robes, with lightsabers are their hips, instantly identifying them as Jedi. Except for the beaming Ahsoka, they are a more somber bunch.
They actually look as though they’ve been fighting a war, unlike the rest of the group.
There is one other exception to the handful of stoic Jedi, the man with his hand on Ahsoka’s shoulder. He’s grinning, but he’s also not looking straight ahead. His gaze falls almost directly on their mother, as though the holo was taken just as he was tearing his eyes away.
(When she looks closely, Leia can see a similar angle to the senator’s eyes; she must have been able to face forward a little more quickly.)
She’s not sure if it is his staring eyes, or his appearance, or the Force prodding at her gut, but she knows it’s Anakin Skywalker. He does not resemble the ghost she left downstairs and perhaps his figure is too reminiscent of the armor, but he is their father.
Her breath catches.
“What is it?”
“I didn’t expect him to be so…” What is the word she’s searching for? Young? That could be said of any of them. Happy? There was no way the man behind that terrible mask could smile so broadly. Hopeful? The little she knows of his past and what lies ahead of him don’t match the man in the picture.
“So like you,” Leia finishes. She doesn’t know if it’s truly what she meant or if it was even the right thing to say to her brother.
Luke follows her line of sight, his expression indistinguishable to anyone but her.
He was the only one to see what the mask hid. That will forever be his image of their father: pale and broken, but redeemed. But this is the Anakin Skywalker he was searching for all those years – the father he so desperately craved.
Leia gently squeezes Luke’s fingers, it is his artificial hand. She looks back at the hand on Ahsoka’s shoulder – gloved.
She shudders. She hadn’t realized even in the past he was not whole nor had she meant to insinuate Luke was like their father for an unfortunate similarity.
Luke shakes his head, as if to wake himself from a trance, and turns the holo off.
“You keep it.”
“Are you sure?”
“If I want to see it again, I know how to find you.”
As long as she’s known him, Luke has been selfless, but he doesn’t know what this means, not fully. He’s given her back her family, both of them.
Kissing his cheek, “Thank you.”
They take the holo and leave the rest of the room undisturbed. Door closed behind them, they go down to the lake. Leia dips her toes in; Luke does not, preferring to stand some distance from the edge. The water soothes their troubles.
They can live the uninterrupted lives their parents did not. Find love, raise children, grow old.
Leia pictures the life ahead of her and Han. Beyond being together, it is only a warm glow. No visions of children or heartache (the good and the bad) seep into her head, but there will likely be both. It is want they want.
She looks over her shoulder at her brother.
Aside from his misunderstanding of the Force in the early days of their relationship, he only saw women fleetingly. Beset with his heavy burden he never fell. She doesn’t know what he wants, any more than she knew what she wanted until it was almost too late.
“Do you think you’ll ever find someone?”
“Maybe. I’m not exactly looking.”
“Neither was I.”
Deflecting, “You know you don’t have to worry about me so much.”
“Who else is going to if I don’t? I want you to be happy.”
Luke gives in and comes forward to sit beside her, but still shies away from the water; the quirk makes Leia’s lip twitch upwards.
“And if I don’t find someone?”
“I’m not going anywhere, regardless of what happens.”
“Then don’t expect me to leave you alone either.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
She bumps shoulders with her brother. They’ve had so little time together, they have the future to make up for that in whatever directions their lives take.
From their spot they look out across the paradise their parents left for them. They’ll have to return to Coruscant soon, but they will come back.
----------
R2 brings the requested records to the apartment, late. The disc must have been near impossible to find (the Emperor kept his secrets close), but he did it. Luke gives the droid a grateful pat and uploads it to a datapad.
It is a slim file; nothing regarding Mara Jade’s service to the Emperor. What it does contain isn’t of any interest: code names, medical records, disciplinary reports. No personnel details. No history. No missions.
The one thing of note is the out-of-date picture. Time has not changed her dagger-like glare.
Luke sorts through it again, in case he missed something. Behind him, Han emerges from his shared room with Leia. Yawning, he uncorks the half-empty Dodbri.
Spotting Luke across the room, “When did you get in?”
“I landed mid-afternoon. I’ve only been back here a few hours.”
Han nods and throws back a glass of the whiskey. “Planning to sleep ever? Or are you going to act just like Leia and work yourself to exhaustion?”
“I have a lot on my mind.”
“Looks like it,” he gestures to the datapad. Then, “You ought to get yourself a woman. You might sleep better.”
“Because Leia’s done wonders for your sleep,” he says dryly.
The ex-smuggler shrugs and collapses into the chair opposite him. (That’s twice recently someone has implied he needs someone.)
Luke looks down at the records. If they won’t yield anything more he’ll have to try a different approach.
“What do you know about Talon Karrde?”
“There’s an interesting question. Where’d you hear that name?”
“Had some ship trouble on my way here,” he tries to ignore the smirk spreading across the other man’s face; “his smuggling operation picked me up.”
Han leans back in his seat, “He’s more of an information broker than a smuggler, though the two do tend to go nicely together. Trustworthy – for a scoundrel. Likes a low profile, but – far as I can tell – he’s at the top of the smuggling world at the moment.”
“Have you worked with him?”
“No, but I think Lando has some contacts within his organization.”
“Is it likely he harbors any Imperial sympathies?”
“He’s a crook – he’s not exactly friendly with the law.”
Luke relaxes, though he assumed that would be the answer. Karrde had plenty of opportunity to take him into custody and he didn’t, and Jade did say he was ‘lucky she’s working with Karrde.’ Obviously, she and her employer don’t see exactly eye-to-eye on the New Republic – on what to do with him.
“Doesn’t mean he hasn’t cut any deals with the Empire in the past.”
It wouldn’t surprise Luke if he had; in fact, he would be more surprised if Karrde hadn’t.
The information is good to know, especially if he’s bound to run into Karrde again as the Force so incessantly tells him, but none of it helps him puzzle-out the Force-sensitive lieutenant.
She didn’t deny working for the Emperor, the records just confirm it. But how did she enter into his service? What did she do before she found herself under his finger? Why is he showing such personal interest in her?
He glances at the picture again, still on the screen of the datapad. Maybe she really did come from nowhere, as Luke once assumed he had.
“Why the sudden curiosity?”
Luke disguises his actual interest, “Thought he might be useful to Leia’s abolition scheme, if she’s ever able to get the Senate to move.”
“She will,” Han says assuredly. “You know your sister.”
He emphasizes ‘your’ a little too much for Luke not to notice.
Han’s taken their familial revelations in strides. Their being siblings takes some getting used to, for him and for them, but it is a small obstacle compared to the identity of their father.
They knew they were asking a lot of Han when they told him the truth and despite everything he accepted it. They don’t expect him to like it; not when they don’t expect it of themselves. By comparison, their mother’s identity barely creates a shockwave in Han. They still struggle to understand who she was, but this other half of their parentage is easier for Han to wrap his head around.
That he knows and accepts the truth is enough for them. There aren’t many others they trust half as much.
“You’re right. She’ll wear them down eventually. And you’ll make sure she doesn’t wear herself down.” He promised Leia they’d look out of each other; he’s just making sure Han is doing the same.
“Have been since you convinced me to break her out of the detention center. I’m still not sure whether I should thank you for that.”
Laughing, “Like it or not, you’re stuck with her.”
“Yeah,” Han smiles inwardly. “I’m going back to bed. Try to get some of those things off your mind.”
Luke’s head makes a noncommittal jerk, mind already wandering. The datapad in his lap still displays the file for Mara Jade.
----------
“Karrde’s not ready for you, Solo.”
“I can wait.”
Wild Karrde is usually the last stop on his contact runs. It makes things easier because, like now, Karrde usually takes his time. It’s stupid, but it probably makes Karrde feel like he’s running the show.
Jade raises her brow as if to say ‘whatever’ and then goes about her business.
Despite annoying habits, Karrde’s no different from most smugglers. He is and hires people of no background and tipped moral compasses, which is why Han doesn’t get Luke’s fixation on this particular lieutenant.
Like him, she comes from nowhere; she is no one. (Probably why she was an attractive candidate for an assassin too.) But being no one apparently doesn’t mean uncomplicated.
“You could tell Karrde I don’t have all day.”
“Maybe if he was being paid more, he might actually be on time for these meetings.”
“I thought the deal was Luke owed him a favor.”
There is a flicker of something in her eye at the mention of Luke. It almost reminds him of the irritated looks he would get from Leia before Hoth.
She continues normally, “Like I said, maybe if he was getting paid better.”
It is the one serious flaw in Ahsoka’s otherwise brilliant plan to have the Jedi take control of abolishing slavery, they are relying on a strictly volunteer basis. And smugglers, the entire first phase of the operation, don’t tend to work for free.
“I’ve come to realize, Luke’s word is usually worth more than credits.”
“Words and favors don’t pay, Solo. You should know that.”
He does know that, better than most. He’d given Jabba his word that he had the money, but his word was worth shit at the time. It’s still worth shit to most people. He was promised seventeen-thousand credits to transport Luke and the old man to Alderaan; he got it from the Alliance and more.
“Not up front.”
Han lets that sink it. The money is one thing, but Luke and Leia are another. He let them get close and now they’re his family, as well as Chewie.
Jade tests the waters, “Skywalker really keeps his word?”
“I’ve never known him not to.”
She stares blankly.
“Annoying, isn’t it? Almost enough to make you want to be a good person.”
The door slides open, Karrde finally makes his appearance and strides through. Shaking Han’s hand firmly, “Let’s get to work, shall we?”
The lieutenant takes a backseat in the proceedings.
She’s looking out for herself. Han gets it; he used to be the same way.
His skin, and his skin only, was what mattered to his laser-brain. No looking back because there was nothing to look back at. No looking ahead because getting cocky only gets you dead.
It’s different when there are others to rely on. He can live in the moment, he can remember the past, and he can look forward to the future.
He wonders if Jade will come to the same conclusion.
----------
She’s decided she likes the hilt of Skywalker’s lightsaber better than Organa’s (Organa’s better than Tano’s). It balances most evenly in her hand, the weight heavy enough. It feels right; one of those things in the Force, she’s been told, she will just know.
But Mara doesn’t get to choose which blade she practices with; it’s a matter of convenience, so most often it is Organa’s.
It is one of those days. The senator comes to collect it.
Other than a few brief exchanges, they haven’t spoken. For their own reasons, they don’t take an interest in each other. Mara keeps to herself and Organa does not attempt to pry.
The blade is given over to its rightful owner and Organa sets back down the Temple steps.
Suddenly curious, Mara asks, “Why are you training to be a Jedi?”
Organa stops in her tracks, “What?”
“You undertake so much already. Why add Jedi on top of everything?”
She considers the question before answering, “Because I believe in the Force. It is a part of who I am – a part of my family.”
“I wasn’t aware the Force had such a strong influence over the Alderaanian royal family.”
“It didn’t. I was adopted.”
Mara bites her tongue. She hadn’t meant the question to open old wounds, yet it is clear from the expression on the woman’s face her adoption is a subject she is reluctant to talk about, or at least reluctant to talk about it with Mara.
There is uncomfortable silence between them. Organa stands a few steps below where she sits, her full height forcing Mara to crane her neck just slightly.
“You’re not going to pry further?”
“I don’t see how it’s any of my business.”
The wind whistles in response.
It’s not her business, really, and her early curiosity evaporated at the first sign of uneasiness between them. Mara would rather maintain her distance from Organa than to lose whatever goodwill she carries with the senator.
The breeze out of the south pauses briefly, to swell up again from the west. It is a strange change in the weather.
Organa sighs, as though coming to the end of an argument with herself.
“Luke trusts you,” Organa says, breaking the silence. “I want to as well.”
Mara lets out an undignified snort, “No offense, but why? You don’t know me at all, I fought against you for years, and I haven’t given you any reason to want to.”
“Until moments ago, you hadn’t given me any reasons not to. But when you began training you joined the New Order. We’re on the same side now and you have to trust the people who are by your side.”
She joined because she wanted the training, not because she believed in their teachings and values (though some of them have been impressed on her). Skywalker and Ahsoka knew that when they took her on; there are no illusions between them.
“You’re talking to the wrong person.”
“Maybe, but I want to believe Luke’s right about you.”
“Right about what?” she wants to ask. (What does Skywalker think of her?) But instinct takes over; Mara goes on the defensive, “Why do you care what Skywalker thinks?”
“Because he’s my brother.”
Their eyes lock. Already shocked, pride is the last thing Mara expected to see reflected in the other woman’s expression.
“That means, Vader –”
The pride vanishes.
The Hero of Yavin and the head of the Alliance – brother and sister – children of Vader. For all of his assurances he would be honest with her, Skywalker didn’t tell her this.
Shouldn’t the ground be crumbling beneath her?
Sensing Mara’s confusion, “Luke doesn’t have another name to hide behind. And even though it’s not common knowledge Anakin Skywalker became Darth Vader, we agreed I would get to decide who knows we’re related.”
She feels like she just smoked a spice-laced death stick, her head heavy and spinning. It’s too impossible to believe.
“Why are you telling me this? I didn’t ask to have Skywalker’s confidence, let alone yours.”
“I told you, we’re on the same side.”
This time when she says it, Mara doesn’t recoil. All four members of the New Jedi Order have pasts to fear leading them to the Dark Side – trained by Anakin Skywalker, children of Anakin Skywalker, assassin to the Emperor.
Trust isn’t a luxury between them, it is a necessity. She may have made a deal with Skywalker, but they share the responsibility for the future.
The wind changes again, but the breeze at her back is not all Mara feels (one of those things she’ll just know).
“I suppose we are, Leia.”