Mara took a long look at the young officer; that kind of initiative wasn't common among his kind anymore; in the Imperial fleet it was more usual to keep one's head down. He was another one of Luke's finds, poached from the ISD Hurricane a few months earlier and given a promotion to earn him a place in the Peerless' bridge crew.
She hadn't failed to notice the recent turnover of staff onboard the Peerless - nor the subtle change in attitude which had accompanied it. There was a pragmatic, get-it-done mindset now; a sense of purpose, promotions depending not on who you knew or where you had trained, but on aptitude and attitude, less relevance placed on following the rules and more on achieving results. The consequent determined optimism was quietly contagious, spreading not just through the Peerless, but beginning to be whispered further afield. Skywalker was no longer leading someone else's forces; he was creating his own.
Luke nodded, "Do so, and leave parts onboard so that its comm system can be repaired."
Mara glanced back, confused, "Why do you want it spaceworthy?"
Luke turned mismatched eyes to her, "The Bothan crew presently held in the detention centre are to be returned to the ship when it's been made safe, then it's to be cast adrift before the Peerless goes to lightspeed."
Mara frowned, "You want to let them go?"
"I am letting them go." He stated simply, tone inviting no argument as he turned back to Fallin, "See to the freighter- quickly as possible; I want to be in lightspeed by the shift change."
Fallin clicked his heels as he bowed his head, "Yes Sir."
He turned smartly and exited, leaving Mara to stare at Luke as he sat down and turned his attention to the automemo on his desk. He remained silent for long moments, but Mara held her peace, and eventually he spoke out without looking up, "You disapprove."
She shrugged, "I simply wonder what you're doing."
"Perhaps I'm feeling generous." he evaded, eyes on the automemo screen.
She smiled just slightly, "Yeah, 'cos I would fall for that."
Luke sighed slightly, looking up. "Well then perhaps it's the fact that in the last three months I've take over sixty-five prisoners, all Bothan. The Attin'Cho was a Bothan ship with a predominantly Bothan crew- if I hold those who were onboard that will effectively double the number of Bothans who have been arrested on my command recently. I've no wish to alienate the Bothan species and create further problems for myself in the future over what's effectively nothing more than circumstance - that's not my objective here."
He turned back to his automemo, voice dismissive. "Plus there's a long-established Bothan spynet which serves the Empire and I don't wish to lose it- and neither dos the Emperor. More importantly, I'm not about to create a time bomb which will make all future dealings with the whole planet difficult simply for the sake of a few political miscreants. To do so would be to hand a moral victory to the Rebellion, and I won't give them something valuable to pull out of this defeat. Let them go."
Mara nodded slowly, very aware of the fact that more and more, Luke was thinking and acting with a real awareness of his future with the Empire - of his eventual position. He was becoming a leader.
"I'll make the arrangements." She said simply, turning to leave. She was at the door before he spoke again, bringing her eyes back to his own.
"Mara-"
He'd always had such flawless sky-blue eyes; now that wide segment of darkest brown left those perfect pale blue eyes mismatched so that when he looked at her, she often felt some vague uneasiness for several moments which she was unable to pin down, just as she did now. Then she would notice afresh the dark shard tainting them... and realise she was staring just a moment too long - just as she was now.
He paused just slightly and she looked away quickly, aware of those mismatched eyes on her, curious. Then he continued, all business again, the moment broken. "The Bothan leader Olin'yaa; he stays- I want to know how the Rebellion got the information about the Dynamic EMP from the restricted Invincible dockyard and how they managed to get the resources to build their own. And I want to know what the Rebellion intended to do with them, because it certainly wasn't for this."
She nodded and turned away, hand to the door release...
"Mara." His voice brought her instantly back round.
"Yes?"
He paused again; "You did well today. Thank-you."
She blinked, unused to praise from him, then shrugged, "We make a good team."
He smiled genuinely, the action pulling the scar through his lips to a crescent, "Yes... we do."
He held her gaze for a few seconds before turning back down to his work and she was left to stare at his dark hair for long seconds before wiping what was probably a very foolish grin off her face and turning to leave.
.
.
.
The two immense wedge-shaped hulls of the Super Star Destroyers made an impressive sight holding position close to Nubia, just beyond the well-travelled trade route crossing points of the Hydian and the Corellian Way. With the two Flagships were a total of nine Imperial-Class Star Destroyers, an outrageous show of force made more for political effect than to actually protect the prisoner they held.
This imposing squadron, a mix of Core and Rim Fleet Destroyers, remained in tight formation, ostensibly awaiting confirmation to make the last leg of the return to Coruscant together, synchronising systems so that they would arrive in orbit at the same time. In truth, the relative Fleet Admirals had made all arrangements hours ago and were simply awaiting confirmation from their Commander-in-Chiefs, who had spoken to each-other only briefly by inter-ship com several hours earlier.
It was common knowledge among the Fleet that Lord Vader and The Heir had a strained professional relationship bordering on hostility...
And they both worked hard to maintain that perception.
The Heir had continued to work through the changing shift onboard his Flagship, as was his habit, before returning to his quarters to continue working in his private office there, as was also his habit, Mara and Reece retiring for the night when he did.
So no-one noticed the man who slipped away in the carefully-timed gap between the patrolling guards' attention, the surveillance lenses along the corridors about The Heir's quarters always incidentally pointing the wrong way in their pre-programmed sweeps. He left the Peerless on a maintenance lugger, waiting for him in the off-limits bay occupied by the 701st, and landed in the docking bay of the Executor dedicated to Vader's own trusted troops, the 501st. He'd return the same way in a few hours' time, no-one being any the wiser. It wasn't the first time he'd done it and he doubted that it would be the last.
But it was of particular relevance because he had one stop to make, and though the arrangements had been made by his father, for once it wasn't him Luke was going to see.
.
.
Mon woke with a start to the near-darkness of the cell, staring at the blank wall before her. For long seconds she lay still and listened to her heart beat loud... then the slightest of sounds scraped through the darkness behind her, tingling up her spine as she twisted about.
There, crouched down and sat on his heels, leaning back against the far wall, was a hunched, dark-clothed figure who watched her through pale eyes, cold as ice in darkness...
"What do you want?" She had meant it to sound stern and unafraid, but it had come out as little more than a whisper.
"Nothing. Nothing at all." He said simply, eyes intent on her.
Mon sat up pulling the thin blanket to her, uncertain what to say, all her resolve bleeding away into the dim shadows. His eyes remained steady on her, face unreadable in the low light, and Mon couldn't help but look again to the deep scar which ran down the right side of is face. She glanced away, then made herself look back as those unsettling, mismatched eyes remained steady on her. Had they always been that; one eye blue, the other cast through with brown, so dark in the low light as to seem almost black.