"If I have to watch the blade to know where it is then I'm abysmally inept, and I hate to disappoint you about my morning walk, but it's the principle of the thing." He said mildly, "I get tired of being followed around by my little red shadow."
The double meaning of that brought a wry smile to Luke's lips; he had been speaking of course of the scarlet-clad Royal Guard who accompanied him everywhere, but her blaze of long, gold-flecked auburn air had earned Mara a similar nick-name. If she saw the connection, she didn't voice it.
"They're there to protect you."
"Right." He said dryly- but then Mara hadn't really expected him to go for that. "You know I managed to get along just fine on my own for twenty-one years."
"You weren't Heir to the Imperial Throne then." Mara stepped just a little too close to Skywalker to in an effort to call his bluff and stop him spinning the blade, but he only took a half-step closer to her and adjusted the loop of the blade slightly so that it now included a slice to either side of her own body on the return loops around his. Mara raised her eyebrows, determined not to flinch before the whirling blade.
"I wasn't The Heir when they started following me everywhere either." He countered without animosity. "And are you trying to tell me that two guards would have been able to protect me when the bomb detonated?"
"I'm not trying to tell you anything." Mara replied, her tone beginning to sharpen again, uneasy at the low thrum of the swinging blade as it whipped past her head. "I really couldn't care less."
Skywalker stopped swinging the blade and glanced down at the lightsaber in her hand. Mara knew exactly what he was going to say; his previous caveat about her losing her temper too easily for him to be willing to teach her lightsaber stanza obviously foremost in his mind.
"This doesn't count." She claimed before he was able to speak, "We haven't started yet... technically."
"We're in the Practice Hall and you have a lightsaber- I'd say that counts."
"That's an interesting point." Mara allowed, not rising to the bait; 'No ill temper,' Skywalker had said- 'Come back when you can do that.'
Luke raised his eyebrows, a mix of scepticism and disbelief in his eyes, but Mara only imparted her most composed, serene smile. "See? No crabbiness. I'm the soul of discretion and calm. No more tantrums - whilst I'm holding a lightsaber."
He grinned, "None at all?"
"No."
"Whatsoever?"
"No."
"So is this a good time to ask you what was going on with your hair last week - with the weird braids and the..."
Mara lifted up her lightsaber hilt, "This works, you know..."
He smiled, tilting his head. "Tell you what, Red, I'll make a deal with you. I'll polish up your lightsaber skills and you teach me close combat."
She frowned, "What do you need close quarters combat for?"
"What do you need lightsaber skills for?"
And once again, everything boiled down to this, Mara knew; chances were, the only person each would need to use those skills against was the other- and Skywalker knew it. Like her, he was willing to trade a portion of his knowledge for a portion of hers- in more ways than one. He could have any instructor he chose come to the Palace to teach him close combat - had trained with the Red Guard instructors intermittently - but after three years, she knew how his mind worked, and knew that he probably figured that this also gained him the opportunity to familiarise himself with a possible opponent's strengths and weaknesses.
Or maybe, like her, there was something else as well... something too difficult to admit as yet. Things seemed to have turned about since his injury, everything shaken up - for the better, it seemed. There was something palpably different about him; some sense of commitment, of direction.
She grinned impishly, "I see our whole relationship to date condensed down into this moment." she uttered knowingly, repeating the words he'd spoken to her just a few days earlier.
He smiled disarmingly then stepped to the side, settling into a ready-position. "Well it's nice to have a little consistency in one's life." he murmured, eyes front, "Ready?"
Still smiling, Mara adjusted her own feet accordingly, bringing her hilt to the ready position, wondering how this easy-going, affable charmer could also be the mercurial, volatile Sith whom Palpatine deemed it necessary to invest so much in controlling.
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CHAPTER TEN
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Turned away from the door and apparently gazing out into space from his private ready-room to the rear of the Peerless' bridge, Luke watched General Veers enter in the reflection of the transparisteel viewport, eyes narrowing.
He had been given permission by Palpatine to return to the fleet only hours earlier and had done so immediately, his haste throwing his staff into pandemonium as they rushed to comply - why exactly he didn't know as he'd made it clear for weeks that the moment he was released from the Emperor's entourage, he would leave.
It was time to put his own house in order.
The Peerless was already on a course out of Coruscant's high orbit, the Dauntless, the Fury and the Dominant in close formation for the short hyperspace jump to Corulag where Karrde would be secretly waiting, before Luke had finally summoned his new General - or rather, Palpatine's.
Normally Luke would tolerate someone of Veers' seniority as a member of his staff even though he knew that the General was reporting directly to the Emperor, amusing himself by simply feeding or denying his Master's new mole information as he saw fit. It was a fact of life here, and he'd had every intention of doing the same with Veers.
Then he had seen the General on his bridge and the black knot that pulled tight in his gut had pushed all other considerations aside.
Veers had informed on his father, probably for years, and while once that would have instilled nothing more than detached amusement, now it seemed... intolerable. The General had remained outside of Luke's reach as long as he had stayed with the Rim Fleet, but now he had transferred to the Core fleet - to Luke's own flagship - and no doubt had the insolence to presume that he could do the same here with impunity.
Just a few words, Luke assured himself; nothing too contentious. Just to let the arrogant, self-satisfied General know that Luke was watching him. He shouldn't of course; should just play him instead- string him along for months with spoon-fed information and carefully-manipulated facts. Should use him before he disposed of him. He knew that.
Veers turned to Luke now, saluting smartly with a click of his heels. Luke remained motionless, neither turning nor acknowledging the gesture.
"Commander." Veers said confidently, "Thank-you for accepting my request for transfer. I understand that you had a good working relationship with General Reiss and I hope to maintain that tradition. I look forward to a long and favourable co-operation between..."
Luke turned just slightly, voice ice and steel, "Co-operation? There is no co-operation between us, General. You are my subordinate and you always will be - unless you intend to rule the Empire one day?"
"No Sir," the General faltered just slightly, "Forgive me, I simply meant..."
"Why did you leave the Executor ?"
"Sir?" Veers was floundering now, uncertain.
"It's a perfectly reasonable question. Why did you leave the Executor?"
"I felt... that... your style of dynamic leadership was more in keeping with my..."
"Stop there, Veers." Luke turned at last, locking hard eyes on the General, "I think the best that we can possibly hope to achieve from your assignment to the Peerless would be that we understand each-other, you and I. So let me explain my views, before you talk yourself any further into an undefendable position."