Chapter Twenty One: Arrival At Yavin IV
Dec. 21st, 2013 02:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladyofleithianIn which the Company Of The Death Star Plans arrives at Yavin IV. (Yes, I had to make another Lord of the Rings joke. I couldn't resist. XD)
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Notes: This was another chapter I really loved writing. Mostly the interactions between Mara and Terminus, Mara and Han, and Vader and Padme. I always like character interaction, really. Also, the twist regarding Terminus turning himself in. That was awesome.
Yavin. Even as they neared the great scarlet planet, Mara looked out the window, unable to damn conceal her amazement. It was a huge planet, almost majestic in terms of scope, and a sort of deep red that reminded Mara almost of blood, or the light of Terminus’ saber. She tried to not think about it, tried to remind herself that whatever differences – to say the least – that she had with Terminus damn weren’t important at the moment, and yet at the same time, she could not help but be afraid. What was going to happen to them when they landed on Yavin IV? After all, Terminus was an enemy of the Rebellion. That went without saying. If they landed on Yavin IV, what would the Rebellion think, damn, of them basically carrying Terminus in their ship?
Even if they went the other way and decided to basically hail Mara and the others as heroes for capturing Terminus, Mara doubted that Lady Nemo would be happy either. Perhaps considering that she used to be a former apprentice of Terminus’ back when he was still a good guy, she seemed at least overly attached to him. Mara couldn’t say she knew what to think of it. While Lady Nemo was an admirable woman – and she would fight anyone who said otherwise – she couldn’t help but wonder if bringing Terminus onboard the Falcon would be a good idea. Saving a wounded man was all well and good, but what would happen after that?
Mara definitely had a feeling that Lady Nemo hadn’t exactly thought this through beyond “save Terminus, then hope things turn out for the best. Somehow.” Which probably didn’t say good things about them arriving at Yavin.
Stop worrying, she tried telling herself. You’ll be fine. After all…what’s the worst that could happen?
Then again, Mara thought, that was probably the problem. No, that was definitely the problem.
“I’m just going to have to leave the cockpit for a bit,” Mara said. “Just to check on Terminus. Make sure he’s okay.”
Han snorted. “First Lady Nemo, now you. You can’t possibly be feeling sorry for the bastard.”
Mara sighed. “Han, look – I don’t like Terminus being a passenger any more than you do, but at the very least…”
“I was saving Lady Nemo’s life.” Han shook his head. “I don’t see what’s wrong with that.”
“I know, Han,” Mara said. “Still…” She rubbed her temples. “I just need to check on him.”
Han seemed almost hesitant, thoughtful even, before nodding. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll just be up…making sure that the Rebellion doesn’t suddenly start firing at us or something.”
“They won’t, Han,” Mara said. “I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”
“That’s kind of the problem.”
It was going down towards the medical bay that Mara found Terminus – her father, more precisely. Even taking it in made no sense – sitting up at least somewhat. He seemed to have at least recovered somewhat from the grenade blast. He looked at her now, and Mara fought the urge deep down to avert her eyes. Something about the black eyes of the mask – they were enough to genuinely unsettle her. Someplace that was too much between human and machine. Even looking into those eyes, she couldn’t say which was which.
Still, she steeled herself. She couldn’t afford to be afraid. “Morning,” she said.
“Good morning.” Terminus’ voice sounded, almost, like it was as old as the Corellian hells themselves. A sort of rumble in it amidst its more metallic edge. “I trust you slept well?”
“Relatively.” Mara sat next to him on the bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. I have to commend Padme; I did not expect that she would show kindness, in the end.” Beat. “If she left me behind, it would be disheartening, but not necessarily unreasonable.”
Mara could not help but feel something flare in her chest. “Lady Nemo’s a great woman.”
“I don’t deny that. But she is Jedi. It is in the nature of Jedi and Sith alike to destroy one another.”
Sith. So that’s your name. There had been stories that Mara had heard, whispers from the cantina, from some of the local space pilots that came by, that the reason for Terminus’ saber change was the fact that he had once been a Jedi and he turned it red if only to symbolize that he was evil. She supposed that it was good to have some degree of confirmation on this. “Well, stars,” she said, if only sarcastically. “I do wonder why. It doesn’t have to do with the fact that you destroyed planets.” Her voice became angrier now even as she remembered the pain of it exploding in her head, Ben’s grief, and so much more. “You have no kriffing idea how much pain you caused, do you?”
“I am aware of the pain caused,” Terminus said, his voice almost completely calm (although it was almost hard to tell with the vocoder, Mara thought). “But I never wanted it to happen. I had nothing to do with it.” A beat. “I know that it is small comfort to the survivors, but I never wanted it to happen.”
“Then why didn’t you do anything?” Even if Terminus was completely innocent in this, completely innocent in all of this, why didn’t he even so much as do anything? Why didn’t he speak out against the people who were doing this, those monsters that seemed to if nothing else just want to destroy Alderaan for the sake of – sadism? A misguided sense of keeping the Rebellion in line through theatrical cruelty? Whatever the case, they failed. And they were going to pay the price. Mara had a feeling that would be their best solace in something like this.
“Tarkin,” Terminus said, “Is far stronger than I am. Far higher in rank. The Emperor hired him, so for all intents and purposes, I could do nothing.”
Huh. Mara supposed that she didn’t have to ask why the Emperor wanted someone as bloodthirsty as Tarkin. She had a feeling that she already knew. “But why would he outrank you?” Mara said. “You’re the Emperor’s…enforcer.” Even saying that was enough to make her almost flinch. Even saying the word “enforcer” was enough to call to mind the matter of terrible murders, atrocities that she heard broadcasted over the Holonet until either Owen or Beru decided to turn them off. “It makes no sense.”
“The bureaucracy has always been stronger than those such as me, at least in the Emperor’s eyes. He wants to maintain the bureaucracy. And he will do anything to make sure that it’s so.”
“So you’re saying that it’s been nothing but a bunch of political bantha poodoo.” Beat. “Why am I not surprised?”
“It was not meant to be this way.” And for a moment, Mara could swear that she heard Terminus’ voice grow more impassioned than she doubted she had ever seen him before. “Long ago, others believed that the Emperor, the Chancellor then, was an honorable man. The man who would lead us out of the corruption of the Senate and to greater glory. But he betrayed them.” His voice grew sadder now, and from the way he seemed to momentarily look away, Mara could only infer that this had been quite painful for him, to say the least. She could only infer that saying it all aloud, telling the truth, was even more painful than remembering. “He stripped away our rights, one by one. It started small, what with the request of more emergency powers, and then it grew larger as he continued making amendments to the Constitution, until finally…finally, he roped me into this.”
“Why did you do it?” If Terminus damn expected Mara to believe him, he – amongst other things – needed to at least tell her why he did all of this. All these heinous things.
“Because I thought at the time,” Terminus said, “It was the right thing to do.” He paused now; from the way he looked, he seemed to be almost remembering. “For the sake of those who had died in the Clone Wars, and for the sake of those who had suffered in the Clone Wars as well. To save a friend’s soul. To save others. I thought at the very least I could do some degree of right in all of this, but it didn’t turn out the way it should have.” And the way he said it – his voice didn’t crack, but it seemed to have gone softer in that moment.
In spite of herself, Mara placed a hand on Terminus’ arm. For all his crimes, for all his sins, he didn’t deserve what happened to him. No one, she thought, deserved what happened to Terminus. Becoming this creature, all because he wanted to save others. It didn’t justify his actions necessarily; they were still atrocious, they were still horrible, and yet…
“I’m sorry,” she said. “This shouldn’t have happened to you.”
Terminus seemed almost surprised at the touch, tilting his head a bit, but he seemed to ultimately accept it. “I can’t say that I’ve been…touched very often,” he said. “Thank you.”
Mara smiled if only faintly, sadly. No one damn deserved what happened to Terminus. Whatever his sins, whatever he had done, he didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve any of this. “You’re welcome,” she said. She couldn’t say what this was damn going to turn into, necessarily, what with the two Sith (even thinking about it, she almost couldn’t imagine that this was what they were called. No one had ever damn called them Sith. Mara had known of the Empire that had nearly wiped out the Jedi, but she hadn’t thought of them as being Sith. Even thinking about it was enough to make her sick, in truth; all this, all of this suffering, because of two ideologies that continually clashed, intent on completely crushing the others somehow, and not caring whatever damage they left in their wake) in their ship (and that was something that she doubted that she would ever truly say. This journey seemed to be getting stranger all the time), but whatever happened, they were going to meet it nonetheless. And that…that, she thought, was reassuring enough.
They headed now towards Yavin IV – even getting up, moving if only slightly towards the cockpit if only to get some degree of a better look, Mara could see that it looked more lush, more green at least from space than the gas giant that it now orbited. They seemed to be such a contrast, she thought – the scarlet planet next to one of its green moons. And even as Han brought the Falcon down on the planet…it was beautiful, Mara thought. Wide open blue skies, lush green trees, the red gas giant looming in the distance – it seemed to be a mixture between nature and technology that was almost, she thought, perfect. She headed back towards the medical bay now, turned towards Terminus.
“I didn’t think I was going to see the galaxy,” she said, and even in spite of herself, she felt a twinge of excitement in her chest. And yet it was a sort of excitement that hurt. Almost, she thought, as if she damn was the daughter telling her father – her utterly naïve, broken, ruthless and yet somehow-very-much-good-still father – about her excitement about seeing the wonders of the galaxy. Even seeing the wonders of the galaxy…there were plenty of horrors. Mara doubted that Alderaan was damn the last she had seen of the horrors of the Empire and its sadism. But it was things such as Yavin IV, just seeing it… “But it’s just…” She shook her head. “I doubt I can describe what I’ve seen. The wonders, the horrors. It feels almost…too much for me.” And even thinking about Alderaan again, something in her chest seized up and she found it hard to breathe. All these people, dead...
Terminus’ fingers now brushed her shoulder. They were almost cold, almost removed, and yet there was a certain sort of gentleness and warmth in them that she could feel through the Force. Something, she thought, that almost reminded her of Owen or Beru. It was such a confusing thing. She almost preferred it when Terminus was nothing but a monster chasing them. At the very least, it would have been slightly less confusing. She would have at least known to hate and fear him. But this…she couldn’t say whether to hate and fear him or love him.
Terminus’ voice was soft, almost gentle. “It always is. You’ve taken your first step into a larger world, after all. It’s guaranteed that you may find more wonder and horror than you could have ever truly imagined.”
Mara took a deep breath. “I don’t know if I could ever…” She trailed off; how was she damn going to explain it? “I’m not scared,” she said. “At least, not for myself. I’m just scared for other people.”
“The fact that you’re fighting against it is remarkable in and of itself,” Terminus said. “There’s no need for self-condemnation.” And Mara could swear that she could see a ray of light all but flicker across his machine eyes, giving him a sort of warmth that she never expected from Terminus. Almost like a father should be, Mara thought. Because he was her father in that moment, not the Dark Lord of the Sith, not the Emperor’s main enforcer, but her father, trying to reconnect with his daughter after too many years away from her. “I have admired the Rebellion, in a way. For all their sins, and there are many, they do not give up without a fight. As those who fight against the Empire should.” A beat. “I know I wish to do what they have done.”
“You do?”
“Why else do you think I was searching for you? I wanted you to help me.” It was then that Terminus’ voice began to swell with emotion – at least, as much emotion as the vocoder conveyed. “More than anything, I wanted you and Sabe and Padme to help me.”
“Sabe?”
“Elizabeth Nerus. Or more precisely, your mother.”
Somehow, Mara thought, after the bizarreness of today, this was one revelation that she couldn’t say bothered her very much. Elizabeth Nerus being her mother, Sabe…yes, she thought. She could definitely go with that. Sabe, after all, was a brave woman. Mara could only hope that she lived up to her – and Lady Nemo, or Padme’s – example. And yet somehow, there was still so much that she didn’t understand. “Why did she leave me?” Mara finally managed to say. She had seen flashes of Sabe in her dreams that no doubt suggested why, but she couldn’t say that she knew why.
“It was a necessity.” Elizabeth Nerus – Sabe – this time. “To keep both you and…your brother safe from the Empire.”
“I don’t have a brother.” This was getting more bizarre by the moment.
Sabe took a deep breath, before sitting on Mara’s other side – Terminus sat on the right side. There was something about it, Mara thought, that almost resembled some talks she had had with Owen and Beru. It felt almost, Mara thought, surreal. “I suppose it’s time to tell you everything. Padme and I…we never wanted to keep anything from you. If it were possible, I would have raised both you and Ben.” A beat. “Obi-Wan and I…we would have raised both you and Ben. But Padme and I thought, at least in the end, that separating you and Ben, sending the both of you to live on different planets, would be the best decision for the both of you. Just for the sake of keeping the both of you safe. Protected from the Emperor himself. It would have been very likely that you would have been captured and converted, and neither Padme nor I wanted this to happen.”
So Ben’s my brother. Mara took a deep breath. “All of this…I can’t say that it damn makes sense.” She shook her head. “It feels like some sort of holodrama that my…foster mother would watch or something. Or that Luke’s mom would watch.”
“It’s definitely understandable.” Sabe said. “Just…believe me that I never truly wanted this. For you, for Ben, for Obi-Wan. But there was damn no other choice.”
It was then that Han interrupted. “Sorry to sort of butt in,” he said, “But we’re landing on Yavin now.” He sighed. “We’re going to have to think quickly. I mean…how’s Terminus?”
“Perfectly well,” Terminus said wryly as he turned to face Han. “No thanks to you.”
“I was trying to save Lady Nemo’s life.”
“Brave,” Terminus said, “If foolish.”
Han shrugged. “It’s one of my talents. What can I say?” He turned towards Mara. “So what do you suggest we do?”
Mara sighed. “We’re going to have to keep him on the ship,” she said, “I mean…” She ran a hand through her hair. She didn’t want to think of what would happen to them all if he were found on the ship. How would the Rebellion react? What would they think of them? “We can’t risk him being found. I don’t want to think of what might happen to him.”
“Your concern is touching,” Terminus said, “But I will be fine.” A beat. “I’m turning myself in.”
Silence. The others in the Falcon looked amazed – and in the case of both Padme and Sabe, Mara thought, they seemed almost afraid.
“Obi-Wan,” Sabe said, “You don’t need to…”
“I do,” Terminus said. “After all…it is the right thing to do. If only after what I’ve done. Perhaps from there, I can try and make amends.”
Sabe took a deep breath. She seemed to be visibly trying to not shatter. Mara reached out now, placed a hand on Sabe’s shoulder – her mother’s shoulder. The best she could do was at the very least be there for her mother at least at this time.
Terminus, meanwhile, did something unexpected – at least, to Mara’s eyes. He placed his forehead – at least the forehead of his helmet – against Sabe’s. It was no more than a light touch; one would never have suspected that he was placing his forehead against hers. From a stranger’s point of view, they seemed to just be all but touching their heads together.
“Have faith, Sabe,” Terminus said. “Everything will be all right.”
“Yes.” Sabe seemed to be at the very least trying to convince herself, Mara, and the others with them. “Yes, it will be all right.”
The two of them drew away, and even watching, Mara was almost struck by the tenderness of the gesture. It was something that she, in truth, hadn’t exactly expected in regards to Lord Terminus. The man known as one of the most vicious enforcers of the Emperor. The man who had hunted down and slaughtered almost every Jedi in existence. Even watching it, she couldn’t say that she had any idea how to react.
Vader, meanwhile, placed a hand on Terminus’ shoulder. “You don’t have to do this,” he said, and for a moment, Mara could swear that there was a sort of childlike distress in his voice. Something that was childlike and yet more mature than she expected.
“I do,” Terminus said. “Take care of the others.”
Vader merely nodded.
It was then that they disembarked into the tangled jungles of Yavin IV. Mara looked around in that moment; even though they were all but hanging on the precipice of an uncertain future, there was something about the jungle around them that was almost enough to distract her from the fact that they might be imprisoned or executed. Mistaken for traitors. And even if they weren’t, the matter of Terminus, her father, being imprisoned…
Mara had been used to seeing him as the enemy. If this had happened previous to the matter of the revelations, if this had happened before the matter of all of this, she doubted that she would have cared. And yet somehow…somehow she did.
It was odd how one detail could all but change everything in what felt like a blink of an eye. He was still a monster, there was no doubt. He had at least done monstrous things. But this…did he truly deserve this?
Commander Willard greeted them first. He was a very friendly sort of man, with a warm, open sort of face. Like someone’s dad, or someone’s uncle. Even seeing him embrace Leia and Ben both, as well as Ada and the other Tantive IV crew members, it was enough to make Mara smile even spite of herself.
“Thank goodness you’re safe,” Willard said once he drew away from them. “When we heard about Alderaan…” He seemed to falter even as he said it. “When we heard about Alderaan, we feared the worst.”
“We’re fine,” Ada said. “We’re all fine.” She took a deep breath; Mara could see that she was quite plainly trying to steady herself. To try not to crack. “I think the gods were trying to protect us this day.”
“Yes,” Willard said. “I think you’re right.”
It was later that they dealt with the matter of Terminus. Willard reassured Mara that he would be treated well, and he’d mostly be sealed away until the matter of his trial for war crimes.
“For now,” Willard said, “We’re going to need to open this Artoo unit to see what information it contains. It might be our only hope in this war.” He sighed, ran a hand through his hair. “We’ve been on the losing side for a bit too long. Can’t believe that we’ve got this information. Or Terminus, for that matter.” He grinned. “You’ve done beautifully today.”
And even in spite of herself, Mara smiled. She then faltered as she turned to Terminus. Good luck. Terminus’ voice all but echoed in her mind.
She merely nodded, a quiet signal to him for good luck as well. She could only hope that Willard and the others would keep their word.
Then again, they were noble men and women. They wouldn’t do something like this. And they were kind. Perhaps, Mara thought, she was just thinking too much about this.
At least, she could only hope she was just thinking too much about this.
***
If there was one thing that Vader was absolutely certain of, it was the fact that if nothing else, the Empire had drastically overestimated the power of their superweapon. And there was something about that, at the very least, that was enough to make him smile even in spite of himself. There was a chance if only to take down the Death Star. To put an end to what the Empire was doing. He faltered even thinking about it. He didn’t want more Alderaans. And if nothing else, he knew that Tarkin wasn’t going to stop at Alderaan. If they were being still tracked to Yavin – which he knew was the case. He could feel it in the back of his mind; the Death Star, practically looming like some monster out of a nightmare. And Tarkin, his madness and his coldness and his brilliance and his sadism, all shining through the Force in a sort of piercing blue that reminded Vader too much of the ice of Hoth – Tarkin would most likely destroy Yavin as well. And he probably wouldn’t stop there. He’d probably destroy every planet in his path if it meant stopping Rebel threats, real or perceived.
Vader took a deep breath. He almost didn’t want to think about it. For all the Jedi had accused him and Ventress of being otherwise – and if Ventress was still in the Empire’s grasp…he almost didn’t want to think about it – he quite liked the galaxy. What was there to not love about the galaxy, in the end? Every moon, every star, every planet…he could still remember as a child when he had promised (practically boasted, damn) to see every planet, star and moon out there. Now, he thought, he was all but watching them die. Entire cities in flame on Sidious’ command. Freedom replaced with fear. Rocky graveyards replacing great planets.
And yet, even listening to General Dodonna, a bearded, wise man who, Vader thought, looked almost as if he belonged in the old Jedi Order, serving on the Council as a Master, guiding his Jedi students (whether it was to glory or to ruin, he couldn’t say. They seemed almost the same thing at times. That was what the wars, the Clone Wars and this war, did. Fused glory and ruin so closely together that one could not damn, truly, understand which was which), go on about the matter of the Death Star and its one weakness that the Empire hadn’t covered up (then again, Vader could only assume, considering the Geonosians that they had originally gotten the blueprints from, there had been some flaw in the blueprints that the Geonosians hadn’t noticed, and that the Empire had been too arrogant, too secure in their own power, to try and fix), there was something in his heart that could not help but wonder if there was another way. After all, Tarkin…Tarkin was nothing but a monster. If one asked “who would do something like that to a planet full of innocents”, the correct answer, Vader thought, was “the sort of person who deserves to die, or face at least some form of retribution”. That he did not deny.
But there were people on the Death Star who weren’t monsters. Their only crime was just being on the Death Star. True, there were some Imperial officers who were probably as sadistic as Tarkin, and some who were, frighteningly enough, almost moreso, but the rest of them…there were people who tended bars on the Death Star, for example, there were soldiers whose only crime was damn doing their duty to the Empire (for every Tarkin, there was someone who was just doing their duty. It was far from an admirable duty, and others would most likely scoff at Vader saying that they were just doing their duty, but it was the truth. They were no more evil than the soldiers surrounding Vader in this moment), and really, did they deserve to die like this if only for something that Tarkin had done?
Tarkin deserved some form of retribution, from the Force itself or otherwise – and it would be a suiting punishment for someone who was arrogant enough to think that he could order around a Force user. Just to be reminded that he was far from the biggest rancor in the pit. But the others…
It was then that another pilot spoke up. Wedge Antilles, more precisely. A tall young man, with brown hair that framed his strong-featured face. “That’s impossible,” he said, “Even for a computer.”
Vader had to suppress a smirk. Did this Wedge Antilles honestly think that firing a shot into a shaft and into a reactor system was impossible? Nothing was truly impossible. Impossible was just a word that others seemed to use as an excuse for “I’m afraid to do it, therefore it can’t be done”.
“It’s not that impossible,” he said. “It just takes aiming, training, and instinct. And knowing what you’re doing.”
Wedge looked at him if only quizzically. “Damn?”
“I’ve had experience in that area.”
Dodonna interrupted the both of them before, Vader thought, they would no doubt get into some sort of argument in regards to how possible or impossible it was for something like this to happen. “Man your ships!” he said. “And may the Force be with you.”
And as Vader got up, he could only hope that that was the case. They were going to need all the Force that they could get, he thought. And more than that.
It was then that Padme walked towards him. “Are you okay?” she said. “I could feel your anxiety all the way over to the other side.”
“I was broadcasting that loudly?” Vader made a mental note to at least not broadcast so loudly in the future. Then again, he had never been truly good at controlling his emotions. It had been something that Dooku had derided in him, back when the Sith Lord was still alive. It was hard to control those emotions, though, he thought. They seemed to all but swell in him like tidal waves. He could never truly get the sort of self-control that, say, Dooku had. Then again, Dooku seemed to be so composed that on occasion, Vader wondered if the older Sith Lord was carved from ice. Then again, he supposed that was a benefit of being trained first as a Jedi. Once you were Sith, becoming detached enough to do what was right – it didn’t mean, necessarily, that the Sith advocated self-restraint. It was a different sort of self-restraint, Vader thought. It was the sort of self-restraint that meant you were cold and calculating when you needed to be, and filled with rage when you needed to be. Actually, Vader thought, it was probably nothing like self-restraint at all – to do what you could to achieve your goals was all too easy.
Although even Dooku had his moments of faltering. He thought that Vader didn’t notice when he was slipping. He was wrong.
“Yes,” Padme said, but her voice was gentle. “You’re worried for the others, aren’t you?”
Vader checked to make sure that the others had left. Fortunately, they were already filing out towards the exit, towards their ships. And towards an uncertain outcome. He could only hope they weren’t throwing their lives away for nothing. Rebel soldiers that he, Terminus and Ventress had captured in the past seemed all too willing to throw their lives away if only for freedom. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have his own causes that he would willingly sacrifice his life for. Protecting those he loved, for example. And yet there was something about all these deaths that was so very senseless…
He took a deep breath. “It’s not that I don’t want Tarkin to face some sort of punishment,” he said. “He’s…all that he’s done, that’s not what the Empire was ever meant to be. Torture. Imprisonment. Murder. And what he did to the Omwati people…they were just children, Padme, and he made them watch as their homes were destroyed.” He rubbed his forehead. “I don’t think he’s even human, Padme. He’s a monster in human skin.”
Padme’s face – he almost wished that he hadn’t mentioned the matter of the Omwati people. The way she looked…though she tried to at least not break down on the outside, there was something in her eyes, still so very wide and innocent after all this time, that showed the anger and the sadness in her eyes. “I know,” she said, and she seemed to almost look down in that moment, the sadness in her face becoming all the more prominent. “I’ve always known.”
“It wasn’t meant to be this way,” Vader said. “It was supposed to be…” He took a deep breath. “Sidious talked about a better world. He talked about bringing peace to the galaxy. It was long after Terminus was brought in, after he was badly injured, and he promised us that from there, we’d be able to make things right again. But all this…he broke that promise. The sort of ideals that a Sith has; in a way, it’s like a promise you make. Kind of like the Jedi, I guess. But he broke that promise.”
Padme smiled sadly. “He has a talent for that.”
“I know. I guess I just…I want Tarkin to pay for what he’s done.” The anger continued boiling in Vader, almost like Mustafar’s lava itself. “And when he realizes that the Death Star isn’t as strong as he thought, I want to be there to feel it. But the others…” Vader ran a hand through his hair. “I saw them around a few times. There’ve been a few psychopaths, a few monsters, but most of them…their only crimes were just being there, Padme. Other than that, they’re not monsters. But they’ll die and…I don’t want them to die for Tarkin’s crimes. It’s not their fault.”
Padme placed a hand on Vader’s cheek. “I know,” she said. There was something about her touch, Vader thought, that was calming, just enough. It’s all right, the touch said. We’ll be all right. They’re all going to be all right.
“I just hope Ventress will be all right.”
“I don’t know,” Padme said. “But whatever happens…” She took a deep breath. “Whatever happens, just hold on. Hold on for Mara. Hold on for the others.”
Vader nodded. No matter how bad things got, he could do that. He could hold on, if only for those he had to protect. “We’ll be able to save them,” he said. “Won’t we, Padme?”
“Who?”
“The people on the Death Star,” Vader said, “And Mara and the others.”
Padme took a deep breath. “To be honest,” she said, “I don’t know. The Clone Wars…if there’s anything that I’ve learned from them, it’s that for all you try to prevent it, there’s going to be senseless deaths on all sides. It’s why I got disillusioned with it as it went on. There was no point to any of it. All these people dying.”
Vader couldn’t disagree with that. All these people, all those people who had died – and for what, damn? Nothing. Because all of this was a plan by Sidious to seize control. He had tried to tell Padme, to tell Obi-Wan, and yet they hadn’t listened to him. They hadn’t realized, at the very least, until it was too late. And that…that was one of the worst parts about it.
He placed a hand over hers now. “No matter what happens,” he said, “It’s not going to happen to anyone else. Even if I have to die trying, even if we have to die trying, it’s not going to happen to anyone else. Because…” He took a deep breath. “To make it all right again,” he said, “I would do anything.”
“So would I.” Padme returned his gesture in that moment. “And we are going to make it right in the end. I promise.”
And there was something in her voice, something in her eyes, where at least for a moment, Vader felt almost as if he could do it. As if they could do it. They would make everything all right again. They would stop Tarkin, and just for good measure, Vader would be there to feel, if not see, Tarkin’s shock when he realized that the Rebellion just overwhelmed the much larger battlestation that he had somehow put so much faith in. The heroic gizka and the krayt dragon, as his mother used to tell him stories about at night. And against all odds, the gizka slew the krayt dragon, and returned home to his people to boast of his daring and impossible deed…
And if a gizka could kill a krayt dragon, the Rebellion could defeat this monster, this imposter, that called itself the Empire.
And perhaps, impossibly, Vader thought, the others on the Death Star, the people who were innocent of Alderaan’s destruction…perhaps they would get out in time. They had to get out in time.
He couldn’t bear to think about what would happen if they didn’t.
***
The hangar was already busy even as Mara entered it. Everything about it, she thought, seemed to practically scream being on the verge of a greater change. On the verge of either crushing defeat or a sort of victory that they never would have truly anticipated. She could only pray that it was the former. After all, if Yavin got destroyed along with Alderaan…
Mara didn’t want to think about it. The Death Star laser, piercing through Yavin’s atmosphere as it fired. The entire planet going up in a wall of fire, consuming her friends, consuming the Rebellion, consuming everyone on that planet. And yet, there was something in her that couldn’t help but wonder if they would truly fire if they realized that two of their enforcers were down on the planet…
Would they? Or would they go through with it anyway, the matter of their enforcers be damned? Perhaps they’d do it anyway, if only to punish Vader and Terminus both as some sick sort of bonus –
Mara shivered, tried if only vainly to push away those thoughts. She didn’t want to think about something like that happening. She didn’t want to think about Vader and Terminus dying. She didn’t want to think about the Rebellion dying, or the crew of the Tantive IV, or Leia or Ben or just about anyone, damn –
It was far across the hangar that Mara saw Han and Chewie packing things into one of the armored speeders. Her chest clenched. So that was how Han was going to be? He was just, after everything that had happened, going to take the reward money and leave like it never mattered, like it was just another smuggling mission?
Mara, she chastised herself, Stop that. He probably has his reasons.
But what reasons could they damn be, in the end? The Rebellion – they needed all the help that they could get. And Han – considering that he was cunning, creative, ingenious, bold, and so many other admirable and awesome qualities, how could he damn think of just leaving them like this? The Rebellion needed all the help that they could get in this desperate hour, and Mara…
Though she couldn’t damn admit it out loud, she had become pretty fond of Han. Not necessarily romantically – after all, he was a cocky bastard. Hardly someone you wanted to get romantically involved with – but more like a friend that you didn’t expect you’d like, but somehow, you did.
Han raised his head in that moment even as Mara approached. “Hey,” he said. “How are you?”
“Good.” Mara looked up and down the boxes; even looking at them was enough to make her heart sink. The fact that Han was leaving, just like that… “You don’t have to leave,” she said, “I mean…I think you have a lot more to do before this is all over.”
Han snorted. “You sound like Lady Nemo, you know that?”
“Maybe I do,” Mara said, “But…we need you.” I need you, a part of her said, but somehow, she thought, it felt as if those words were frozen in her throat, refusing to come out.
“I’ve got debts to pay,” Han said. “My employer, Jabba…he’s going to murder me or freeze me in carbonite if I don’t get the reward money to him. That’s kind of one reason I decided to take you to Alderaan.” Beat. “That and the Empire isn’t worth the slime under a Hutt’s tail, but that’s another story entirely.”
Mara couldn’t help but laugh if only a bit even in spite of herself. There was something about at least that that was enough to make her feel better, if only slightly. Then she faltered. “So that’s pretty much it? After everything that happened, you’re just leaving?”
“I do what I’ve got to do,” Han said. “Besides…just look around you. Attacking a battlestation like that…that’s not courage. That’s suicide.”
Mara supposed that in a way Han was right. And yet… “Who else is going to stand up against the Death Star if not us? We have to stop it from destroying more planets. I mean, I’m certain that in time, there won’t be a Tatooine left to land on.”
Something seemed to flicker over Han’s face, almost as if, for a moment, he was hesitating. Mara took advantage of it, pressing on if only gently. “It’s not glamorous,” she said, “I think what we’ve seen thus far is proof enough of that. We’re just doing what’s right.”
Silence. “Honestly, kiddo,” Han said, “You deserve a better fate than this. They all deserve a better fate than this.”
“We’ll be going out doing what’s right.”
Han seemed thoughtful. Then, “Maybe. But I’m not…I’m not going with you.”
Mara couldn’t help but feel something flare up inside her. “Looking out for number one again?” she couldn’t help but say. She knew she was being terrible, she knew she was being cruel, but the idea of Han just leaving them like that…
“Maybe a bit,” Han said. “Besides…how else do we survive these days?”
Mara took a deep breath. “This isn’t all there is, Han,” she said. “I mean…you’re meant for greater things than this. I know it.”
Silence.
Then Han spoke. “No, you’re meant for greater things than this. Just…take care of yourself, kiddo. And everyone else.” A hint of humor came into his voice even as he said, “Wipe that smirk off the Empire’s faces for me.”
Mara grinned. “Will do. May the Force be with you.”
“You too, kiddo.”
Even as Han left, Mara could not help but feel empty somehow. She could hear Chewie grumbling something to him, and Han rebutting him, but she couldn’t say that she heard it very well. She sighed, trying if only to calm herself.
He’s just doing what he can, she told herself. No need to get angry about it.
And yet she couldn’t help but feel angry. After all this time, after everything they’d been through, Han was just going to leave like it was nothing? Like their entire lives weren’t at stake?
She hadn’t expected to like Han. And yet over the course of this journey, she had seen more to him than she had damn thought was possible. After all, for one thing, he was…quite a nice guy when one damn got to know him. Cocky, yes. A bit rough, yes. But there was plenty of heroism in him enough to make Mara admire him in spite of herself.
And now he was just leaving, just like that.
Mara took a deep breath. He had said to wipe the smirk off the Empire’s faces for him, just before he left. So that was what she was going to do.
It was on the way to her ship that she ran into Padme and Vader. Vader’s brows furrowed even as he looked over her. “You all right?” he said. “I mean…”
“Han just left,” Mara said. “I mean…” She sighed, ran a hand through her hair. “I should have seen it coming, but it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt. It’s like everything we experienced didn’t mean anything to him.”
“I’m certain it did.” Padme, this time. “Just because he left us doesn’t mean he doesn’t think anything of what happened.”
“You don’t know that,” Mara said.
Padme seemed to smile if only a bit. “You’d be surprised with instances like these. Sometimes the people who you think the least of can turn around and surprise you.” She gently touched Mara’s shoulder. “Come on,” she said, “We should get you to your ship.”
It was on the way to the ship that Mara saw him. Biggs. He was just standing off to the side, talking with another pilot, when he turned around to see her. He looked disbelieving if only for a moment before running towards her – and then Mara was practically engulfed in a hug so tight that she could barely breathe. And yet she couldn’t help but grin as well – she and Biggs were together, in the Rebellion. It had taken a long road to get there, but nonetheless – it was worth it, all of it. It was more than worth it.
Biggs drew away, grinning brighter than the twin suns themselves. “Mara! How did you even get there; I thought I’d never see you again!”
“It’s a long story,” Mara said. “And a pretty strange one. I mean, if I told you right now…” She laughed. “If I told you right now, you wouldn’t believe it.”
“I personally can’t believe that you caught Lord Terminus himself…”
Mara kept smiling, but on the inside, she was already wavering. She already wanted to tell Biggs so much about the wonders and the horrors she had seen. The horrors of Alderaan’s destruction. The wonders in the new companions that she had found. And the strange wonder and horror of Terminus simply…turning himself in. Because he felt it was the right thing to do.
“I think I’ll tell you more after the whole…thing.”
It was then that Red Leader approached. He was a friendly looking older man, probably around his forties, with a sort of open, handsome face. “You’re Mara, right? Mara Lars? The woman who helped capture Darth Terminus?”
We didn’t capture him; Padme decided to rescue him. And we didn’t bring him back to the Alliance, he turned himself in. Still, Mara nodded, trying at the very least to at least look modest. “I am,” she said.
“Have you been checked out on the Incom T-Sixty-Five?”
Before Mara could answer, Biggs stepped in. “Sir,” he said, “Just believe me when I say that Mara Lars is one of the best pilots out there.”
Mara smiled. Honestly, Biggs was exaggerating. The most piloting experience she had was racing speeders with him and Luke against the sunrise, or the sunset. Hardly piloting material.
A pang went through her heart even as she thought about Luke. She could only hope that wherever he was, he was all right. She couldn’t bear to think of anything terrible happening to him. Granted, Luke was pretty resilient, damn, and more than capable of taking care of himself, and yet there was something in her that could not help but worry…
Just be safe out there, Luke. Wherever you are.
It was heading towards Mara’s fighter that Red Leader said, “I met your father once, when I was just a boy.”
Mara stopped abruptly. Somehow, the idea that Red Leader had known her father… “You did?” Her curiosity was piqued now. To think that Red Leader had known her father, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Darth Terminus… “How, exactly?”
“I flew with him. During the Clone Wars.”
Mara could not help but laugh. “That’s…amazing.” Then she faltered. “What was he like?”
“Probably one of the noblest men you could ever meet. Always selfless. Always willing to sacrifice whatever he could for other people. Great sense of humor too. And, of course, one of the most phenomenal pilots I ever met…”
“He hated flying when I met him.” Padme, this time. A faint smile was on her face. “He got over it, of course.”
Red Leader looked over at Padme. “Somehow I can’t picture him being scared of flying.”
“Well,” Padme said. “He was.” A beat. “It’s very good to see you again, by the way,” she said, “Garvin.”
Things seemed to be getting stranger, and yet strangely, more fascinating, by the minute.
Red Leader turned back to Mara. “You’ll do all right. You’ll do better than all right. You’ll be amazing.”
“I certainly hope so, sir.” And yet there was something about his words that was enough to send a sort of warmth through Mara.
“You definitely will.” Biggs, this time. He grinned. “It’ll be like old times, Mara. We’re a couple of shooting stars that can’t be stopped!”
Mara grinned. “Yeah,” she said, “We are.”
It was heading to her ship that she turned around if only to see Owen and Beru looking at her. Beru approached her now, a look of utter pride in her eyes. “I knew that you’d make it someday,” she said. “I always did.” She took Mara’s hands. “Just be safe up there. Promise us that?”
“I’ll be fine,” Mara said. “I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Owen, this time. “It’s not fun, Mara. It’s not glamorous. There’s nothing glamorous about it. People…young people, like you, have just thrown their lives away in the name of some damn fool idealistic crusade. I don’t want something like that to happen to you.”
And even looking into her adoptive father’s eyes, Mara could see the truth of it in there. The fear that he had that Mara wouldn’t come back alive. That he had effectively failed to keep her safe.
But still, what did he have to worry about? She was almost an adult by now. He’d have to let her go sometime. Everyone had to leave sometime; otherwise, nothing would truly get started.
“Dad,” she said, gently, “Mom. I know that you’re both worried about me. I know that you have more than enough reason to be. But trust me, I’m going to be okay.”
“You don’t know that,” Owen said. “The Empire…it’s got enough ships to overwhelm you.”
“I know. And honestly…I’m worried about you guys too. I mean, if I fail to do this, you both are going to die. Everyone’s going to die. I can’t let this happen.” She looked into Owen’s eyes, into the fear and the care that he had in them, the worry that somehow, she wouldn’t come back alive. She looked at Beru as well, and saw the same in them. People who had done so much if only to try and keep her safe. She took a deep breath. “I know it’s not glamorous. It’s not fun. I kind of figured that. But all of us – if anyone’s going to stand up against the Empire, it’s going to be us.”
Silence.
Then Owen grinned. “Then give them hell, Mara. Just for us.”
“I will.”
She embraced Owen, and then Beru, before turning to embrace Padme and Vader. Because if this was the last time she would ever see them, she had to let them know, at the very least, how much they were appreciated. It was then that Ben, Leia and Ada approached.
“We thought that we’d say goodbye,” Ada said, “Just in case.”
“It’s not goodbye,” Mara said, “Not really.” She grinned. “I’m going to make it back here. Trust me.”
“Well,” Ben said, “Good luck then.”
“You too.” And by the Force itself, Mara thought, even as she made the necessary preparations, negotiating with the chief of the repair crew if only to have Artoo there (after all, if she was going to be going into battle against a giant space station, having Artoo at her side was definitely a good idea), saying their necessary goodbyes to Threepio, and putting in the flight equipment – by the Force itself, she was going to give the Empire hell.
They were going to give the Empire hell.
And even if they ended up dying in the process, they were going to give the Empire enough hell to be remembered as the ones who fought back when the Empire thought that no one else could.
The ships then lifted off into Yavin IV’s atmosphere, and towards an uncertain outcome.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Notes: This was another chapter I really loved writing. Mostly the interactions between Mara and Terminus, Mara and Han, and Vader and Padme. I always like character interaction, really. Also, the twist regarding Terminus turning himself in. That was awesome.
Yavin. Even as they neared the great scarlet planet, Mara looked out the window, unable to damn conceal her amazement. It was a huge planet, almost majestic in terms of scope, and a sort of deep red that reminded Mara almost of blood, or the light of Terminus’ saber. She tried to not think about it, tried to remind herself that whatever differences – to say the least – that she had with Terminus damn weren’t important at the moment, and yet at the same time, she could not help but be afraid. What was going to happen to them when they landed on Yavin IV? After all, Terminus was an enemy of the Rebellion. That went without saying. If they landed on Yavin IV, what would the Rebellion think, damn, of them basically carrying Terminus in their ship?
Even if they went the other way and decided to basically hail Mara and the others as heroes for capturing Terminus, Mara doubted that Lady Nemo would be happy either. Perhaps considering that she used to be a former apprentice of Terminus’ back when he was still a good guy, she seemed at least overly attached to him. Mara couldn’t say she knew what to think of it. While Lady Nemo was an admirable woman – and she would fight anyone who said otherwise – she couldn’t help but wonder if bringing Terminus onboard the Falcon would be a good idea. Saving a wounded man was all well and good, but what would happen after that?
Mara definitely had a feeling that Lady Nemo hadn’t exactly thought this through beyond “save Terminus, then hope things turn out for the best. Somehow.” Which probably didn’t say good things about them arriving at Yavin.
Stop worrying, she tried telling herself. You’ll be fine. After all…what’s the worst that could happen?
Then again, Mara thought, that was probably the problem. No, that was definitely the problem.
“I’m just going to have to leave the cockpit for a bit,” Mara said. “Just to check on Terminus. Make sure he’s okay.”
Han snorted. “First Lady Nemo, now you. You can’t possibly be feeling sorry for the bastard.”
Mara sighed. “Han, look – I don’t like Terminus being a passenger any more than you do, but at the very least…”
“I was saving Lady Nemo’s life.” Han shook his head. “I don’t see what’s wrong with that.”
“I know, Han,” Mara said. “Still…” She rubbed her temples. “I just need to check on him.”
Han seemed almost hesitant, thoughtful even, before nodding. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll just be up…making sure that the Rebellion doesn’t suddenly start firing at us or something.”
“They won’t, Han,” Mara said. “I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”
“That’s kind of the problem.”
It was going down towards the medical bay that Mara found Terminus – her father, more precisely. Even taking it in made no sense – sitting up at least somewhat. He seemed to have at least recovered somewhat from the grenade blast. He looked at her now, and Mara fought the urge deep down to avert her eyes. Something about the black eyes of the mask – they were enough to genuinely unsettle her. Someplace that was too much between human and machine. Even looking into those eyes, she couldn’t say which was which.
Still, she steeled herself. She couldn’t afford to be afraid. “Morning,” she said.
“Good morning.” Terminus’ voice sounded, almost, like it was as old as the Corellian hells themselves. A sort of rumble in it amidst its more metallic edge. “I trust you slept well?”
“Relatively.” Mara sat next to him on the bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. I have to commend Padme; I did not expect that she would show kindness, in the end.” Beat. “If she left me behind, it would be disheartening, but not necessarily unreasonable.”
Mara could not help but feel something flare in her chest. “Lady Nemo’s a great woman.”
“I don’t deny that. But she is Jedi. It is in the nature of Jedi and Sith alike to destroy one another.”
Sith. So that’s your name. There had been stories that Mara had heard, whispers from the cantina, from some of the local space pilots that came by, that the reason for Terminus’ saber change was the fact that he had once been a Jedi and he turned it red if only to symbolize that he was evil. She supposed that it was good to have some degree of confirmation on this. “Well, stars,” she said, if only sarcastically. “I do wonder why. It doesn’t have to do with the fact that you destroyed planets.” Her voice became angrier now even as she remembered the pain of it exploding in her head, Ben’s grief, and so much more. “You have no kriffing idea how much pain you caused, do you?”
“I am aware of the pain caused,” Terminus said, his voice almost completely calm (although it was almost hard to tell with the vocoder, Mara thought). “But I never wanted it to happen. I had nothing to do with it.” A beat. “I know that it is small comfort to the survivors, but I never wanted it to happen.”
“Then why didn’t you do anything?” Even if Terminus was completely innocent in this, completely innocent in all of this, why didn’t he even so much as do anything? Why didn’t he speak out against the people who were doing this, those monsters that seemed to if nothing else just want to destroy Alderaan for the sake of – sadism? A misguided sense of keeping the Rebellion in line through theatrical cruelty? Whatever the case, they failed. And they were going to pay the price. Mara had a feeling that would be their best solace in something like this.
“Tarkin,” Terminus said, “Is far stronger than I am. Far higher in rank. The Emperor hired him, so for all intents and purposes, I could do nothing.”
Huh. Mara supposed that she didn’t have to ask why the Emperor wanted someone as bloodthirsty as Tarkin. She had a feeling that she already knew. “But why would he outrank you?” Mara said. “You’re the Emperor’s…enforcer.” Even saying that was enough to make her almost flinch. Even saying the word “enforcer” was enough to call to mind the matter of terrible murders, atrocities that she heard broadcasted over the Holonet until either Owen or Beru decided to turn them off. “It makes no sense.”
“The bureaucracy has always been stronger than those such as me, at least in the Emperor’s eyes. He wants to maintain the bureaucracy. And he will do anything to make sure that it’s so.”
“So you’re saying that it’s been nothing but a bunch of political bantha poodoo.” Beat. “Why am I not surprised?”
“It was not meant to be this way.” And for a moment, Mara could swear that she heard Terminus’ voice grow more impassioned than she doubted she had ever seen him before. “Long ago, others believed that the Emperor, the Chancellor then, was an honorable man. The man who would lead us out of the corruption of the Senate and to greater glory. But he betrayed them.” His voice grew sadder now, and from the way he seemed to momentarily look away, Mara could only infer that this had been quite painful for him, to say the least. She could only infer that saying it all aloud, telling the truth, was even more painful than remembering. “He stripped away our rights, one by one. It started small, what with the request of more emergency powers, and then it grew larger as he continued making amendments to the Constitution, until finally…finally, he roped me into this.”
“Why did you do it?” If Terminus damn expected Mara to believe him, he – amongst other things – needed to at least tell her why he did all of this. All these heinous things.
“Because I thought at the time,” Terminus said, “It was the right thing to do.” He paused now; from the way he looked, he seemed to be almost remembering. “For the sake of those who had died in the Clone Wars, and for the sake of those who had suffered in the Clone Wars as well. To save a friend’s soul. To save others. I thought at the very least I could do some degree of right in all of this, but it didn’t turn out the way it should have.” And the way he said it – his voice didn’t crack, but it seemed to have gone softer in that moment.
In spite of herself, Mara placed a hand on Terminus’ arm. For all his crimes, for all his sins, he didn’t deserve what happened to him. No one, she thought, deserved what happened to Terminus. Becoming this creature, all because he wanted to save others. It didn’t justify his actions necessarily; they were still atrocious, they were still horrible, and yet…
“I’m sorry,” she said. “This shouldn’t have happened to you.”
Terminus seemed almost surprised at the touch, tilting his head a bit, but he seemed to ultimately accept it. “I can’t say that I’ve been…touched very often,” he said. “Thank you.”
Mara smiled if only faintly, sadly. No one damn deserved what happened to Terminus. Whatever his sins, whatever he had done, he didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve any of this. “You’re welcome,” she said. She couldn’t say what this was damn going to turn into, necessarily, what with the two Sith (even thinking about it, she almost couldn’t imagine that this was what they were called. No one had ever damn called them Sith. Mara had known of the Empire that had nearly wiped out the Jedi, but she hadn’t thought of them as being Sith. Even thinking about it was enough to make her sick, in truth; all this, all of this suffering, because of two ideologies that continually clashed, intent on completely crushing the others somehow, and not caring whatever damage they left in their wake) in their ship (and that was something that she doubted that she would ever truly say. This journey seemed to be getting stranger all the time), but whatever happened, they were going to meet it nonetheless. And that…that, she thought, was reassuring enough.
They headed now towards Yavin IV – even getting up, moving if only slightly towards the cockpit if only to get some degree of a better look, Mara could see that it looked more lush, more green at least from space than the gas giant that it now orbited. They seemed to be such a contrast, she thought – the scarlet planet next to one of its green moons. And even as Han brought the Falcon down on the planet…it was beautiful, Mara thought. Wide open blue skies, lush green trees, the red gas giant looming in the distance – it seemed to be a mixture between nature and technology that was almost, she thought, perfect. She headed back towards the medical bay now, turned towards Terminus.
“I didn’t think I was going to see the galaxy,” she said, and even in spite of herself, she felt a twinge of excitement in her chest. And yet it was a sort of excitement that hurt. Almost, she thought, as if she damn was the daughter telling her father – her utterly naïve, broken, ruthless and yet somehow-very-much-good-still father – about her excitement about seeing the wonders of the galaxy. Even seeing the wonders of the galaxy…there were plenty of horrors. Mara doubted that Alderaan was damn the last she had seen of the horrors of the Empire and its sadism. But it was things such as Yavin IV, just seeing it… “But it’s just…” She shook her head. “I doubt I can describe what I’ve seen. The wonders, the horrors. It feels almost…too much for me.” And even thinking about Alderaan again, something in her chest seized up and she found it hard to breathe. All these people, dead...
Terminus’ fingers now brushed her shoulder. They were almost cold, almost removed, and yet there was a certain sort of gentleness and warmth in them that she could feel through the Force. Something, she thought, that almost reminded her of Owen or Beru. It was such a confusing thing. She almost preferred it when Terminus was nothing but a monster chasing them. At the very least, it would have been slightly less confusing. She would have at least known to hate and fear him. But this…she couldn’t say whether to hate and fear him or love him.
Terminus’ voice was soft, almost gentle. “It always is. You’ve taken your first step into a larger world, after all. It’s guaranteed that you may find more wonder and horror than you could have ever truly imagined.”
Mara took a deep breath. “I don’t know if I could ever…” She trailed off; how was she damn going to explain it? “I’m not scared,” she said. “At least, not for myself. I’m just scared for other people.”
“The fact that you’re fighting against it is remarkable in and of itself,” Terminus said. “There’s no need for self-condemnation.” And Mara could swear that she could see a ray of light all but flicker across his machine eyes, giving him a sort of warmth that she never expected from Terminus. Almost like a father should be, Mara thought. Because he was her father in that moment, not the Dark Lord of the Sith, not the Emperor’s main enforcer, but her father, trying to reconnect with his daughter after too many years away from her. “I have admired the Rebellion, in a way. For all their sins, and there are many, they do not give up without a fight. As those who fight against the Empire should.” A beat. “I know I wish to do what they have done.”
“You do?”
“Why else do you think I was searching for you? I wanted you to help me.” It was then that Terminus’ voice began to swell with emotion – at least, as much emotion as the vocoder conveyed. “More than anything, I wanted you and Sabe and Padme to help me.”
“Sabe?”
“Elizabeth Nerus. Or more precisely, your mother.”
Somehow, Mara thought, after the bizarreness of today, this was one revelation that she couldn’t say bothered her very much. Elizabeth Nerus being her mother, Sabe…yes, she thought. She could definitely go with that. Sabe, after all, was a brave woman. Mara could only hope that she lived up to her – and Lady Nemo, or Padme’s – example. And yet somehow, there was still so much that she didn’t understand. “Why did she leave me?” Mara finally managed to say. She had seen flashes of Sabe in her dreams that no doubt suggested why, but she couldn’t say that she knew why.
“It was a necessity.” Elizabeth Nerus – Sabe – this time. “To keep both you and…your brother safe from the Empire.”
“I don’t have a brother.” This was getting more bizarre by the moment.
Sabe took a deep breath, before sitting on Mara’s other side – Terminus sat on the right side. There was something about it, Mara thought, that almost resembled some talks she had had with Owen and Beru. It felt almost, Mara thought, surreal. “I suppose it’s time to tell you everything. Padme and I…we never wanted to keep anything from you. If it were possible, I would have raised both you and Ben.” A beat. “Obi-Wan and I…we would have raised both you and Ben. But Padme and I thought, at least in the end, that separating you and Ben, sending the both of you to live on different planets, would be the best decision for the both of you. Just for the sake of keeping the both of you safe. Protected from the Emperor himself. It would have been very likely that you would have been captured and converted, and neither Padme nor I wanted this to happen.”
So Ben’s my brother. Mara took a deep breath. “All of this…I can’t say that it damn makes sense.” She shook her head. “It feels like some sort of holodrama that my…foster mother would watch or something. Or that Luke’s mom would watch.”
“It’s definitely understandable.” Sabe said. “Just…believe me that I never truly wanted this. For you, for Ben, for Obi-Wan. But there was damn no other choice.”
It was then that Han interrupted. “Sorry to sort of butt in,” he said, “But we’re landing on Yavin now.” He sighed. “We’re going to have to think quickly. I mean…how’s Terminus?”
“Perfectly well,” Terminus said wryly as he turned to face Han. “No thanks to you.”
“I was trying to save Lady Nemo’s life.”
“Brave,” Terminus said, “If foolish.”
Han shrugged. “It’s one of my talents. What can I say?” He turned towards Mara. “So what do you suggest we do?”
Mara sighed. “We’re going to have to keep him on the ship,” she said, “I mean…” She ran a hand through her hair. She didn’t want to think of what would happen to them all if he were found on the ship. How would the Rebellion react? What would they think of them? “We can’t risk him being found. I don’t want to think of what might happen to him.”
“Your concern is touching,” Terminus said, “But I will be fine.” A beat. “I’m turning myself in.”
Silence. The others in the Falcon looked amazed – and in the case of both Padme and Sabe, Mara thought, they seemed almost afraid.
“Obi-Wan,” Sabe said, “You don’t need to…”
“I do,” Terminus said. “After all…it is the right thing to do. If only after what I’ve done. Perhaps from there, I can try and make amends.”
Sabe took a deep breath. She seemed to be visibly trying to not shatter. Mara reached out now, placed a hand on Sabe’s shoulder – her mother’s shoulder. The best she could do was at the very least be there for her mother at least at this time.
Terminus, meanwhile, did something unexpected – at least, to Mara’s eyes. He placed his forehead – at least the forehead of his helmet – against Sabe’s. It was no more than a light touch; one would never have suspected that he was placing his forehead against hers. From a stranger’s point of view, they seemed to just be all but touching their heads together.
“Have faith, Sabe,” Terminus said. “Everything will be all right.”
“Yes.” Sabe seemed to be at the very least trying to convince herself, Mara, and the others with them. “Yes, it will be all right.”
The two of them drew away, and even watching, Mara was almost struck by the tenderness of the gesture. It was something that she, in truth, hadn’t exactly expected in regards to Lord Terminus. The man known as one of the most vicious enforcers of the Emperor. The man who had hunted down and slaughtered almost every Jedi in existence. Even watching it, she couldn’t say that she had any idea how to react.
Vader, meanwhile, placed a hand on Terminus’ shoulder. “You don’t have to do this,” he said, and for a moment, Mara could swear that there was a sort of childlike distress in his voice. Something that was childlike and yet more mature than she expected.
“I do,” Terminus said. “Take care of the others.”
Vader merely nodded.
It was then that they disembarked into the tangled jungles of Yavin IV. Mara looked around in that moment; even though they were all but hanging on the precipice of an uncertain future, there was something about the jungle around them that was almost enough to distract her from the fact that they might be imprisoned or executed. Mistaken for traitors. And even if they weren’t, the matter of Terminus, her father, being imprisoned…
Mara had been used to seeing him as the enemy. If this had happened previous to the matter of the revelations, if this had happened before the matter of all of this, she doubted that she would have cared. And yet somehow…somehow she did.
It was odd how one detail could all but change everything in what felt like a blink of an eye. He was still a monster, there was no doubt. He had at least done monstrous things. But this…did he truly deserve this?
Commander Willard greeted them first. He was a very friendly sort of man, with a warm, open sort of face. Like someone’s dad, or someone’s uncle. Even seeing him embrace Leia and Ben both, as well as Ada and the other Tantive IV crew members, it was enough to make Mara smile even spite of herself.
“Thank goodness you’re safe,” Willard said once he drew away from them. “When we heard about Alderaan…” He seemed to falter even as he said it. “When we heard about Alderaan, we feared the worst.”
“We’re fine,” Ada said. “We’re all fine.” She took a deep breath; Mara could see that she was quite plainly trying to steady herself. To try not to crack. “I think the gods were trying to protect us this day.”
“Yes,” Willard said. “I think you’re right.”
It was later that they dealt with the matter of Terminus. Willard reassured Mara that he would be treated well, and he’d mostly be sealed away until the matter of his trial for war crimes.
“For now,” Willard said, “We’re going to need to open this Artoo unit to see what information it contains. It might be our only hope in this war.” He sighed, ran a hand through his hair. “We’ve been on the losing side for a bit too long. Can’t believe that we’ve got this information. Or Terminus, for that matter.” He grinned. “You’ve done beautifully today.”
And even in spite of herself, Mara smiled. She then faltered as she turned to Terminus. Good luck. Terminus’ voice all but echoed in her mind.
She merely nodded, a quiet signal to him for good luck as well. She could only hope that Willard and the others would keep their word.
Then again, they were noble men and women. They wouldn’t do something like this. And they were kind. Perhaps, Mara thought, she was just thinking too much about this.
At least, she could only hope she was just thinking too much about this.
***
If there was one thing that Vader was absolutely certain of, it was the fact that if nothing else, the Empire had drastically overestimated the power of their superweapon. And there was something about that, at the very least, that was enough to make him smile even in spite of himself. There was a chance if only to take down the Death Star. To put an end to what the Empire was doing. He faltered even thinking about it. He didn’t want more Alderaans. And if nothing else, he knew that Tarkin wasn’t going to stop at Alderaan. If they were being still tracked to Yavin – which he knew was the case. He could feel it in the back of his mind; the Death Star, practically looming like some monster out of a nightmare. And Tarkin, his madness and his coldness and his brilliance and his sadism, all shining through the Force in a sort of piercing blue that reminded Vader too much of the ice of Hoth – Tarkin would most likely destroy Yavin as well. And he probably wouldn’t stop there. He’d probably destroy every planet in his path if it meant stopping Rebel threats, real or perceived.
Vader took a deep breath. He almost didn’t want to think about it. For all the Jedi had accused him and Ventress of being otherwise – and if Ventress was still in the Empire’s grasp…he almost didn’t want to think about it – he quite liked the galaxy. What was there to not love about the galaxy, in the end? Every moon, every star, every planet…he could still remember as a child when he had promised (practically boasted, damn) to see every planet, star and moon out there. Now, he thought, he was all but watching them die. Entire cities in flame on Sidious’ command. Freedom replaced with fear. Rocky graveyards replacing great planets.
And yet, even listening to General Dodonna, a bearded, wise man who, Vader thought, looked almost as if he belonged in the old Jedi Order, serving on the Council as a Master, guiding his Jedi students (whether it was to glory or to ruin, he couldn’t say. They seemed almost the same thing at times. That was what the wars, the Clone Wars and this war, did. Fused glory and ruin so closely together that one could not damn, truly, understand which was which), go on about the matter of the Death Star and its one weakness that the Empire hadn’t covered up (then again, Vader could only assume, considering the Geonosians that they had originally gotten the blueprints from, there had been some flaw in the blueprints that the Geonosians hadn’t noticed, and that the Empire had been too arrogant, too secure in their own power, to try and fix), there was something in his heart that could not help but wonder if there was another way. After all, Tarkin…Tarkin was nothing but a monster. If one asked “who would do something like that to a planet full of innocents”, the correct answer, Vader thought, was “the sort of person who deserves to die, or face at least some form of retribution”. That he did not deny.
But there were people on the Death Star who weren’t monsters. Their only crime was just being on the Death Star. True, there were some Imperial officers who were probably as sadistic as Tarkin, and some who were, frighteningly enough, almost moreso, but the rest of them…there were people who tended bars on the Death Star, for example, there were soldiers whose only crime was damn doing their duty to the Empire (for every Tarkin, there was someone who was just doing their duty. It was far from an admirable duty, and others would most likely scoff at Vader saying that they were just doing their duty, but it was the truth. They were no more evil than the soldiers surrounding Vader in this moment), and really, did they deserve to die like this if only for something that Tarkin had done?
Tarkin deserved some form of retribution, from the Force itself or otherwise – and it would be a suiting punishment for someone who was arrogant enough to think that he could order around a Force user. Just to be reminded that he was far from the biggest rancor in the pit. But the others…
It was then that another pilot spoke up. Wedge Antilles, more precisely. A tall young man, with brown hair that framed his strong-featured face. “That’s impossible,” he said, “Even for a computer.”
Vader had to suppress a smirk. Did this Wedge Antilles honestly think that firing a shot into a shaft and into a reactor system was impossible? Nothing was truly impossible. Impossible was just a word that others seemed to use as an excuse for “I’m afraid to do it, therefore it can’t be done”.
“It’s not that impossible,” he said. “It just takes aiming, training, and instinct. And knowing what you’re doing.”
Wedge looked at him if only quizzically. “Damn?”
“I’ve had experience in that area.”
Dodonna interrupted the both of them before, Vader thought, they would no doubt get into some sort of argument in regards to how possible or impossible it was for something like this to happen. “Man your ships!” he said. “And may the Force be with you.”
And as Vader got up, he could only hope that that was the case. They were going to need all the Force that they could get, he thought. And more than that.
It was then that Padme walked towards him. “Are you okay?” she said. “I could feel your anxiety all the way over to the other side.”
“I was broadcasting that loudly?” Vader made a mental note to at least not broadcast so loudly in the future. Then again, he had never been truly good at controlling his emotions. It had been something that Dooku had derided in him, back when the Sith Lord was still alive. It was hard to control those emotions, though, he thought. They seemed to all but swell in him like tidal waves. He could never truly get the sort of self-control that, say, Dooku had. Then again, Dooku seemed to be so composed that on occasion, Vader wondered if the older Sith Lord was carved from ice. Then again, he supposed that was a benefit of being trained first as a Jedi. Once you were Sith, becoming detached enough to do what was right – it didn’t mean, necessarily, that the Sith advocated self-restraint. It was a different sort of self-restraint, Vader thought. It was the sort of self-restraint that meant you were cold and calculating when you needed to be, and filled with rage when you needed to be. Actually, Vader thought, it was probably nothing like self-restraint at all – to do what you could to achieve your goals was all too easy.
Although even Dooku had his moments of faltering. He thought that Vader didn’t notice when he was slipping. He was wrong.
“Yes,” Padme said, but her voice was gentle. “You’re worried for the others, aren’t you?”
Vader checked to make sure that the others had left. Fortunately, they were already filing out towards the exit, towards their ships. And towards an uncertain outcome. He could only hope they weren’t throwing their lives away for nothing. Rebel soldiers that he, Terminus and Ventress had captured in the past seemed all too willing to throw their lives away if only for freedom. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have his own causes that he would willingly sacrifice his life for. Protecting those he loved, for example. And yet there was something about all these deaths that was so very senseless…
He took a deep breath. “It’s not that I don’t want Tarkin to face some sort of punishment,” he said. “He’s…all that he’s done, that’s not what the Empire was ever meant to be. Torture. Imprisonment. Murder. And what he did to the Omwati people…they were just children, Padme, and he made them watch as their homes were destroyed.” He rubbed his forehead. “I don’t think he’s even human, Padme. He’s a monster in human skin.”
Padme’s face – he almost wished that he hadn’t mentioned the matter of the Omwati people. The way she looked…though she tried to at least not break down on the outside, there was something in her eyes, still so very wide and innocent after all this time, that showed the anger and the sadness in her eyes. “I know,” she said, and she seemed to almost look down in that moment, the sadness in her face becoming all the more prominent. “I’ve always known.”
“It wasn’t meant to be this way,” Vader said. “It was supposed to be…” He took a deep breath. “Sidious talked about a better world. He talked about bringing peace to the galaxy. It was long after Terminus was brought in, after he was badly injured, and he promised us that from there, we’d be able to make things right again. But all this…he broke that promise. The sort of ideals that a Sith has; in a way, it’s like a promise you make. Kind of like the Jedi, I guess. But he broke that promise.”
Padme smiled sadly. “He has a talent for that.”
“I know. I guess I just…I want Tarkin to pay for what he’s done.” The anger continued boiling in Vader, almost like Mustafar’s lava itself. “And when he realizes that the Death Star isn’t as strong as he thought, I want to be there to feel it. But the others…” Vader ran a hand through his hair. “I saw them around a few times. There’ve been a few psychopaths, a few monsters, but most of them…their only crimes were just being there, Padme. Other than that, they’re not monsters. But they’ll die and…I don’t want them to die for Tarkin’s crimes. It’s not their fault.”
Padme placed a hand on Vader’s cheek. “I know,” she said. There was something about her touch, Vader thought, that was calming, just enough. It’s all right, the touch said. We’ll be all right. They’re all going to be all right.
“I just hope Ventress will be all right.”
“I don’t know,” Padme said. “But whatever happens…” She took a deep breath. “Whatever happens, just hold on. Hold on for Mara. Hold on for the others.”
Vader nodded. No matter how bad things got, he could do that. He could hold on, if only for those he had to protect. “We’ll be able to save them,” he said. “Won’t we, Padme?”
“Who?”
“The people on the Death Star,” Vader said, “And Mara and the others.”
Padme took a deep breath. “To be honest,” she said, “I don’t know. The Clone Wars…if there’s anything that I’ve learned from them, it’s that for all you try to prevent it, there’s going to be senseless deaths on all sides. It’s why I got disillusioned with it as it went on. There was no point to any of it. All these people dying.”
Vader couldn’t disagree with that. All these people, all those people who had died – and for what, damn? Nothing. Because all of this was a plan by Sidious to seize control. He had tried to tell Padme, to tell Obi-Wan, and yet they hadn’t listened to him. They hadn’t realized, at the very least, until it was too late. And that…that was one of the worst parts about it.
He placed a hand over hers now. “No matter what happens,” he said, “It’s not going to happen to anyone else. Even if I have to die trying, even if we have to die trying, it’s not going to happen to anyone else. Because…” He took a deep breath. “To make it all right again,” he said, “I would do anything.”
“So would I.” Padme returned his gesture in that moment. “And we are going to make it right in the end. I promise.”
And there was something in her voice, something in her eyes, where at least for a moment, Vader felt almost as if he could do it. As if they could do it. They would make everything all right again. They would stop Tarkin, and just for good measure, Vader would be there to feel, if not see, Tarkin’s shock when he realized that the Rebellion just overwhelmed the much larger battlestation that he had somehow put so much faith in. The heroic gizka and the krayt dragon, as his mother used to tell him stories about at night. And against all odds, the gizka slew the krayt dragon, and returned home to his people to boast of his daring and impossible deed…
And if a gizka could kill a krayt dragon, the Rebellion could defeat this monster, this imposter, that called itself the Empire.
And perhaps, impossibly, Vader thought, the others on the Death Star, the people who were innocent of Alderaan’s destruction…perhaps they would get out in time. They had to get out in time.
He couldn’t bear to think about what would happen if they didn’t.
***
The hangar was already busy even as Mara entered it. Everything about it, she thought, seemed to practically scream being on the verge of a greater change. On the verge of either crushing defeat or a sort of victory that they never would have truly anticipated. She could only pray that it was the former. After all, if Yavin got destroyed along with Alderaan…
Mara didn’t want to think about it. The Death Star laser, piercing through Yavin’s atmosphere as it fired. The entire planet going up in a wall of fire, consuming her friends, consuming the Rebellion, consuming everyone on that planet. And yet, there was something in her that couldn’t help but wonder if they would truly fire if they realized that two of their enforcers were down on the planet…
Would they? Or would they go through with it anyway, the matter of their enforcers be damned? Perhaps they’d do it anyway, if only to punish Vader and Terminus both as some sick sort of bonus –
Mara shivered, tried if only vainly to push away those thoughts. She didn’t want to think about something like that happening. She didn’t want to think about Vader and Terminus dying. She didn’t want to think about the Rebellion dying, or the crew of the Tantive IV, or Leia or Ben or just about anyone, damn –
It was far across the hangar that Mara saw Han and Chewie packing things into one of the armored speeders. Her chest clenched. So that was how Han was going to be? He was just, after everything that had happened, going to take the reward money and leave like it never mattered, like it was just another smuggling mission?
Mara, she chastised herself, Stop that. He probably has his reasons.
But what reasons could they damn be, in the end? The Rebellion – they needed all the help that they could get. And Han – considering that he was cunning, creative, ingenious, bold, and so many other admirable and awesome qualities, how could he damn think of just leaving them like this? The Rebellion needed all the help that they could get in this desperate hour, and Mara…
Though she couldn’t damn admit it out loud, she had become pretty fond of Han. Not necessarily romantically – after all, he was a cocky bastard. Hardly someone you wanted to get romantically involved with – but more like a friend that you didn’t expect you’d like, but somehow, you did.
Han raised his head in that moment even as Mara approached. “Hey,” he said. “How are you?”
“Good.” Mara looked up and down the boxes; even looking at them was enough to make her heart sink. The fact that Han was leaving, just like that… “You don’t have to leave,” she said, “I mean…I think you have a lot more to do before this is all over.”
Han snorted. “You sound like Lady Nemo, you know that?”
“Maybe I do,” Mara said, “But…we need you.” I need you, a part of her said, but somehow, she thought, it felt as if those words were frozen in her throat, refusing to come out.
“I’ve got debts to pay,” Han said. “My employer, Jabba…he’s going to murder me or freeze me in carbonite if I don’t get the reward money to him. That’s kind of one reason I decided to take you to Alderaan.” Beat. “That and the Empire isn’t worth the slime under a Hutt’s tail, but that’s another story entirely.”
Mara couldn’t help but laugh if only a bit even in spite of herself. There was something about at least that that was enough to make her feel better, if only slightly. Then she faltered. “So that’s pretty much it? After everything that happened, you’re just leaving?”
“I do what I’ve got to do,” Han said. “Besides…just look around you. Attacking a battlestation like that…that’s not courage. That’s suicide.”
Mara supposed that in a way Han was right. And yet… “Who else is going to stand up against the Death Star if not us? We have to stop it from destroying more planets. I mean, I’m certain that in time, there won’t be a Tatooine left to land on.”
Something seemed to flicker over Han’s face, almost as if, for a moment, he was hesitating. Mara took advantage of it, pressing on if only gently. “It’s not glamorous,” she said, “I think what we’ve seen thus far is proof enough of that. We’re just doing what’s right.”
Silence. “Honestly, kiddo,” Han said, “You deserve a better fate than this. They all deserve a better fate than this.”
“We’ll be going out doing what’s right.”
Han seemed thoughtful. Then, “Maybe. But I’m not…I’m not going with you.”
Mara couldn’t help but feel something flare up inside her. “Looking out for number one again?” she couldn’t help but say. She knew she was being terrible, she knew she was being cruel, but the idea of Han just leaving them like that…
“Maybe a bit,” Han said. “Besides…how else do we survive these days?”
Mara took a deep breath. “This isn’t all there is, Han,” she said. “I mean…you’re meant for greater things than this. I know it.”
Silence.
Then Han spoke. “No, you’re meant for greater things than this. Just…take care of yourself, kiddo. And everyone else.” A hint of humor came into his voice even as he said, “Wipe that smirk off the Empire’s faces for me.”
Mara grinned. “Will do. May the Force be with you.”
“You too, kiddo.”
Even as Han left, Mara could not help but feel empty somehow. She could hear Chewie grumbling something to him, and Han rebutting him, but she couldn’t say that she heard it very well. She sighed, trying if only to calm herself.
He’s just doing what he can, she told herself. No need to get angry about it.
And yet she couldn’t help but feel angry. After all this time, after everything they’d been through, Han was just going to leave like it was nothing? Like their entire lives weren’t at stake?
She hadn’t expected to like Han. And yet over the course of this journey, she had seen more to him than she had damn thought was possible. After all, for one thing, he was…quite a nice guy when one damn got to know him. Cocky, yes. A bit rough, yes. But there was plenty of heroism in him enough to make Mara admire him in spite of herself.
And now he was just leaving, just like that.
Mara took a deep breath. He had said to wipe the smirk off the Empire’s faces for him, just before he left. So that was what she was going to do.
It was on the way to her ship that she ran into Padme and Vader. Vader’s brows furrowed even as he looked over her. “You all right?” he said. “I mean…”
“Han just left,” Mara said. “I mean…” She sighed, ran a hand through her hair. “I should have seen it coming, but it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt. It’s like everything we experienced didn’t mean anything to him.”
“I’m certain it did.” Padme, this time. “Just because he left us doesn’t mean he doesn’t think anything of what happened.”
“You don’t know that,” Mara said.
Padme seemed to smile if only a bit. “You’d be surprised with instances like these. Sometimes the people who you think the least of can turn around and surprise you.” She gently touched Mara’s shoulder. “Come on,” she said, “We should get you to your ship.”
It was on the way to the ship that Mara saw him. Biggs. He was just standing off to the side, talking with another pilot, when he turned around to see her. He looked disbelieving if only for a moment before running towards her – and then Mara was practically engulfed in a hug so tight that she could barely breathe. And yet she couldn’t help but grin as well – she and Biggs were together, in the Rebellion. It had taken a long road to get there, but nonetheless – it was worth it, all of it. It was more than worth it.
Biggs drew away, grinning brighter than the twin suns themselves. “Mara! How did you even get there; I thought I’d never see you again!”
“It’s a long story,” Mara said. “And a pretty strange one. I mean, if I told you right now…” She laughed. “If I told you right now, you wouldn’t believe it.”
“I personally can’t believe that you caught Lord Terminus himself…”
Mara kept smiling, but on the inside, she was already wavering. She already wanted to tell Biggs so much about the wonders and the horrors she had seen. The horrors of Alderaan’s destruction. The wonders in the new companions that she had found. And the strange wonder and horror of Terminus simply…turning himself in. Because he felt it was the right thing to do.
“I think I’ll tell you more after the whole…thing.”
It was then that Red Leader approached. He was a friendly looking older man, probably around his forties, with a sort of open, handsome face. “You’re Mara, right? Mara Lars? The woman who helped capture Darth Terminus?”
We didn’t capture him; Padme decided to rescue him. And we didn’t bring him back to the Alliance, he turned himself in. Still, Mara nodded, trying at the very least to at least look modest. “I am,” she said.
“Have you been checked out on the Incom T-Sixty-Five?”
Before Mara could answer, Biggs stepped in. “Sir,” he said, “Just believe me when I say that Mara Lars is one of the best pilots out there.”
Mara smiled. Honestly, Biggs was exaggerating. The most piloting experience she had was racing speeders with him and Luke against the sunrise, or the sunset. Hardly piloting material.
A pang went through her heart even as she thought about Luke. She could only hope that wherever he was, he was all right. She couldn’t bear to think of anything terrible happening to him. Granted, Luke was pretty resilient, damn, and more than capable of taking care of himself, and yet there was something in her that could not help but worry…
Just be safe out there, Luke. Wherever you are.
It was heading towards Mara’s fighter that Red Leader said, “I met your father once, when I was just a boy.”
Mara stopped abruptly. Somehow, the idea that Red Leader had known her father… “You did?” Her curiosity was piqued now. To think that Red Leader had known her father, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Darth Terminus… “How, exactly?”
“I flew with him. During the Clone Wars.”
Mara could not help but laugh. “That’s…amazing.” Then she faltered. “What was he like?”
“Probably one of the noblest men you could ever meet. Always selfless. Always willing to sacrifice whatever he could for other people. Great sense of humor too. And, of course, one of the most phenomenal pilots I ever met…”
“He hated flying when I met him.” Padme, this time. A faint smile was on her face. “He got over it, of course.”
Red Leader looked over at Padme. “Somehow I can’t picture him being scared of flying.”
“Well,” Padme said. “He was.” A beat. “It’s very good to see you again, by the way,” she said, “Garvin.”
Things seemed to be getting stranger, and yet strangely, more fascinating, by the minute.
Red Leader turned back to Mara. “You’ll do all right. You’ll do better than all right. You’ll be amazing.”
“I certainly hope so, sir.” And yet there was something about his words that was enough to send a sort of warmth through Mara.
“You definitely will.” Biggs, this time. He grinned. “It’ll be like old times, Mara. We’re a couple of shooting stars that can’t be stopped!”
Mara grinned. “Yeah,” she said, “We are.”
It was heading to her ship that she turned around if only to see Owen and Beru looking at her. Beru approached her now, a look of utter pride in her eyes. “I knew that you’d make it someday,” she said. “I always did.” She took Mara’s hands. “Just be safe up there. Promise us that?”
“I’ll be fine,” Mara said. “I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Owen, this time. “It’s not fun, Mara. It’s not glamorous. There’s nothing glamorous about it. People…young people, like you, have just thrown their lives away in the name of some damn fool idealistic crusade. I don’t want something like that to happen to you.”
And even looking into her adoptive father’s eyes, Mara could see the truth of it in there. The fear that he had that Mara wouldn’t come back alive. That he had effectively failed to keep her safe.
But still, what did he have to worry about? She was almost an adult by now. He’d have to let her go sometime. Everyone had to leave sometime; otherwise, nothing would truly get started.
“Dad,” she said, gently, “Mom. I know that you’re both worried about me. I know that you have more than enough reason to be. But trust me, I’m going to be okay.”
“You don’t know that,” Owen said. “The Empire…it’s got enough ships to overwhelm you.”
“I know. And honestly…I’m worried about you guys too. I mean, if I fail to do this, you both are going to die. Everyone’s going to die. I can’t let this happen.” She looked into Owen’s eyes, into the fear and the care that he had in them, the worry that somehow, she wouldn’t come back alive. She looked at Beru as well, and saw the same in them. People who had done so much if only to try and keep her safe. She took a deep breath. “I know it’s not glamorous. It’s not fun. I kind of figured that. But all of us – if anyone’s going to stand up against the Empire, it’s going to be us.”
Silence.
Then Owen grinned. “Then give them hell, Mara. Just for us.”
“I will.”
She embraced Owen, and then Beru, before turning to embrace Padme and Vader. Because if this was the last time she would ever see them, she had to let them know, at the very least, how much they were appreciated. It was then that Ben, Leia and Ada approached.
“We thought that we’d say goodbye,” Ada said, “Just in case.”
“It’s not goodbye,” Mara said, “Not really.” She grinned. “I’m going to make it back here. Trust me.”
“Well,” Ben said, “Good luck then.”
“You too.” And by the Force itself, Mara thought, even as she made the necessary preparations, negotiating with the chief of the repair crew if only to have Artoo there (after all, if she was going to be going into battle against a giant space station, having Artoo at her side was definitely a good idea), saying their necessary goodbyes to Threepio, and putting in the flight equipment – by the Force itself, she was going to give the Empire hell.
They were going to give the Empire hell.
And even if they ended up dying in the process, they were going to give the Empire enough hell to be remembered as the ones who fought back when the Empire thought that no one else could.
The ships then lifted off into Yavin IV’s atmosphere, and towards an uncertain outcome.
