As it had unfurled, a small piece of loose flimsiplast was thrown free to float lightly down.
Han fumbled and caught it midair, turning it over. The short message was handwritten and unsigned, but Han recognised Luke's writing. It said simply:
.
Now we're even.
Han grinned from ear to ear, then carefully folded up the piece of flimsiplast and stowed it away in his breast pocket.
Chapter 16
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
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Mara knocked lightly on the Peerless' ready-room and entered without waiting for a reply. Skywalker was stood to the far side with his back to the room, feet apart, hands clasped behind his back, still looking out at the Fury.
She frowned, still uncertain why he remained in such a melancholy mood when the operation was a significant success. Yes there were unexpected complications, but he'd taken the leader of the Rebellion into custody, after two decades of the Empire hunting her, and he'd done so with a small force and minimal conflict or collateral damage, which made her capture that much more embarrassing for the Rebellion.
For herself, right now Mara felt... what? Buoyant; infused with confidence- certain that he would lead them to further victories, more convinced daily of his loyalty to the Empire and positive of Palpatine's faith in him.
She remembered when she had first seen him unconscious in the Perlemian Apartments - now referred to by all as The Heir's Apartments - and the Emperor said that he would lead the Empire one day. Remembered her indifference; her unconvinced disapproval. Now... now she simply couldn't imagine life without him; didn't want to. She had a vague memory of it being... serious and sombre; less stimulating, less energising. But then in the Palace it still was, she supposed- she'd always preferred to be out here in the galaxy... it was just that now, she preferred to be out here, in the galaxy with Skywalker.
With The Heir.
It had been a rocky road from that first wary meeting to his acknowledgement by Palpatine as the man who would one day rule the Empire, but more and more she had faith in his ability to do just that. More and more she saw in Skywalker the man worthy to be successor to Palpatine. They still had their disagreements, he and the Emperor, the friction often bordering on blatant dissent, and she didn't expect them to stop any time soon. But what she'd once seen as a stubborn obstinate flaw, she recognised now as part of his strength; he wasn't easily browbeaten or bribed, even by a Sith Emperor. In Vader, her master had always sought to create a savant; a loyal advocate - in Luke, he was moulding a leader. She saw that now. Saw the lessons he taught; the distinctions, the subtle adaptations and tolerance - though she doubted Skywalker had that perspective yet.
But he surely would, given time; she believed that absolutely now. Mara couldn't for one moment imagine anyone else in the role Skywalker had achieved. Nor, she suspected, could the Emperor.
Yes, she knew Skywalker still had ties- more probably than Palpatine thought. She'd played a hunch and gone back to check the security images from the prisoners who were transferred over to the Peerless from the scuppered Fury, and Han Solo had been among the prisoners taken onboard and magically, when Mara had checked again less than an hour ago, he was no longer in the manifest. What exactly Skywalker had done with him, she didn't know, but she could pretty much figure out the bigger picture - she knew that Skywalker had kept the Corellian smuggler's freighter in deep storage aboard the Peerless since about three months after he had taken command, and she'd bet a year's salary that it was no longer there.
But this was small-fry, unimportant in the larger scheme of things; one of those quirky little contradictions which made him so intriguing. Luke had taken prisoner all of those of value to their master; had been most conscientious in that.
It was that which she knew now as she looked to his reflection in the tall viewpane to the rear of his ready-room, Luke remaining still and silent, lost in thought, eyes on the hulking shadow of the dead Star Destroyer. It didn't matter, she knew; he had many more in his fleet.
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Luke stared at the crippled Fury, lost in his own thoughts, changing his focus just momentarily from it to the reflection of Mara Jade in the viewpane then back to the Destroyer again without speaking.
An awful lot of mess and loss in this last desperate tangle and nothing to show for it - on both sides. But at least his was by choice. Could he have caught Madine? Yes, easily when the Peerless had arrived, but he'd ordered them to leave the distant Rebel freighter alone, claiming no-one of value was onboard, telling his Admiral to let it return to its Rebellion with the full tale of their failure and Mothma's loss. The truth was that he wasn't prepared to risk Leia's involvment to catch Madine, and since they were together, if he caught one then he also caught the other. First rule of sabacc; never get pot-committed. So he'd let Madine get away; after everything he'd risked, the price was just too high - this time.
Some small part of him had been tempted to tell the Peerless to disable the tiny Rebel freighter and reel it in, firstly because he wanted Madine and secondly because he wanted to confirm what his Master wanted with Leia. But it would have required a massive editing of Luke's own plans to gain what was probably only a minor and, now that he knew what she was capable of, unsurprising piece of information. Presumably his Master wanted Leia Organa because she was Force-sensetive; he either wanted to train her or he wanted to kill her, and neither were particularly conducive to Luke's own plans.
No- he needed her where she was for now. And he'd needed Han to watch her- and hopefully intervene on Luke's behalf, when it came to the crunch. Leia was integral to his long-term plans and Han... Han was his insurance. That was the only reason for is actions today. He smiled just slightly, the action pulling at the scar over his lips;
And anyway, he couldn't imagine Han Solo without the Falcon - it set the galaxy to rights.
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Seeing him smile slightly, Mara returned the same, relieved that her initial reading of his mood had been wrong.
"Congratulations." She said; the first time she'd felt safe to do so. "I haven't contacted the Emperor yet. I thought you'd want to make this report yourself."
"No." He replied casually, turning back to walk to his desk. In someone else, she would have thought it false humility, but in Luke she knew it was more calculated than that; he was playing his political games, even now. "Make the report. Send it to..." he paused, glancing up at her without lifting his head, voice teasing wickedly, "...whoever the hell you send those things to that I'm not supposed to know about."
She set an unimpressed expression on her face, head to one side, but was prevented from making any reply by a quick knock at the door. Skywalker gave his best 'how convenient' look in return as he spoke out, "Yes."
Lieutenant Fallin, another relatively newly-appointed bridge officer entered, clearing his throat. "Sir, all the prisoners are logged and confined; just under a hundred in total. We're ready to make the jump to join up with the Executor at Nubia. Ops are asking what's to be done with the Bothan ship- the Attin'Cho."
Mara half-turned, reciting the Commander's usual order under such circumstances, "Set it adrift and use it for target practice. Have the gunners..."
"Wait." Luke interjected, "Is it still capable of life-support?"
"No Sir." Fallin replied, glancing down at his automemo which clearly held a 'tech run-down of the freighter before adding, "But I think engineering could get it made ready in a few hours if you require it."