Horizons ( Luke Skywalker )

chapter XXI

     Mara Jade has felt pain before. When she was five years old, she shattered her falling star globe on the floor. The pieces had pierced the soft skin of her palms as she tried to play with them. She screamed as her parents tried to doctor her bloody hands.

By the time she was 16, she had hardened considerably. It took a lot to hurt her. She had been on a mission for the emperor, a test; she returned with her back sliced open by a sword. It took a considerable time to heal, even with all the medicine and esteemed doctors. Mara knows pain.

This isn't pain.

Luke disagrees. He's been watching her, her mind, her movements, her face. What is he looking for? Perhaps he's waiting for her eyes to glass over with unshed tears. Maybe he's waiting for her face to flush with anger. It never comes. It never will. Mara Jade is stronger than that.

"You're staring," she says. Her eyes focus on the stars that shine so brightly above them. The observatory brings her the comfort of a big, vast, empty space. A constant reminder of how little everything matters. The stars will continue to burn long after she is gone.

"So are you," Luke says. He steps up next to her, shoulder brushing hers, and joins her in looking at shining constellations. He places his hands next to hers on the railing. Her grip on it is tight, as if its the only thing keeping her tethered to the ground. How nice it would be to drift away.

"I'm staring at a much more impressive sight." Her words seem to carry meaning but there is no emotion in her voice. There's no passion in the way she praises her view.

"It's not like you to be modest," he teases. She doesn't return his smile, so his own soon falls. Her force presence seems to have recoiled; she's hiding from him and from the rest of the world. She's alone. "Are you okay?" he asks, brow knitting in concern.

She already has a defense planned but she can't bring herself to lie. Is she okay?

"I killed my friend," she says instead. Still, her voice doesn't break. She doesn't say it like it's an excuse or that is should mean something. She says it because it's a fact. She killed her friend.

"After she tried to kill you," he argues gently, as if that makes everything better. Turning his body towards her, he leans down and tries to make eye contact. This is the only comfort he can offer; he knows better than to try to pull her to him right now. "She wasn't your friend, Mara," he says. "But you're not alone. You'll never be alone. I'll make sure of that." He sounds so much like his old self that it almost hurts. After a moment's hesitation, he brings a hand up to rest on her shoulder and and gives it a small squeeze.

But Mara hardly hears him, barely registers his words. These are empty promises from a man she no longer knows. Mara has learned not to rely on anyone but herself.

     . . .

     There's rage in her that she's never seen, and it all comes out during her training. It's there when she maneuvers her blades around her, when she throws them at the moving targets. It drives her as she battles like her life depends on it, as she weaves and ducks around the hologram that reenacts an attack. The ache in her muscles serves as the sweetest distraction and this, for awhile, is all she knows. But it doesn't last for long.

She's angry. She's so angry and she hates the world. She hates what their lives have been turned into. She hates the emperor and Vader and -